A Wild Ride Across Africa

I was lucky, no goats. But the land crossing from Northern Kenya to Ethopia is one of the roughest roads I have encountered so far and not an easy go. Riding ontop of a cattle truck along with 20-30 people, with my legs wrapped around a railing and my hands gripping on the bars as my body is jostled everywhere is exhausting. I'm trying to avoid being thrown off the truck while ducking the occasional tree branch. It's sort of like an African version of bronco riding. If you get motion sickness easily or don't like rollercoaster rides, you might want to try another way up north. The truck was packed with people, luggage and heavy piping below as we left Isiolo at 1:00 a.m. for the cold night ride. Sleep was impossible, but it was reassuring looking at the stars to see the Big Dipper again and not the Southern Cross, and know I was in the Northern Hemisphere. I had crossed the Equator earlier around Mount Kenya.

Men were chewing and spitting out the semi-narcotic stimulant chat leaves all night and morning, and at times travel was slow to 20-30 km/h through this semi-arid region. We arrived in Marsabit eleven hours later, initially for a quick lunch. The town's population is a wide mix of Somalis, Msais, Ethiopians, and Kenyan tribesmen in brightly coloured atire.

Despite reassurances the road was safe and free of bandits and rebels, that morning and afternoon a tribal conlict suddenly flared up over a five-year old cattle dispute. Forty men attacked a village and gunfire was exchanged. As the police closed the road, we stayed the night in Marsabit with the other trucks and waited for morning for the situation to cool down and go as an armed convoy. This soon falls apart as any trucks that break down are left behind.

I found out later from a Kenyan police officer that there's also an Ethiopian anti-government group, the Oromo Liberation Front who often cross over to Kenya to steal cattle and has sporadic clashes with the police. Northen Kenya, neglected and less travelled sure has a wild west feel to it. You can pick up a AK-47 rifle for about two cows.

The stretch to the border of Moyale is only slightly less bumpier but definitely dustier and marked with deep pockets of sand. Everyone and everything is soon caked in a thin layer of dust. Another full day of riding ontop of the truck with the sun beating down. We finally arrived in Moyale around 5:00 p.m. and I quickly cross over the Kenyan border. Unfortunately, the posts are not co-ordinated and the Ethiopian side is closed. I was then presuaded to give a "present" of 20 Birrs ($3 Canadian) to an Ethiopian Immigration Officer to re-open the office and stamp me through or else it was back to Kenya and fork out money for another transit visa.

I am now in Awasa at a guesthouse in a Pentacostal Church. It's a peaceful place to rest and clean up. I met a Swedish missionary man who has been working in this country with his wife for over 27 years who gave me some helpful advice and directed me to the guesthouse. Ethiopia is very different from the rest of Africa but more on that later...