Selam Ethiopia

The madness started when we touched down in Burundi and the previously half empty plane filled up some of whom did not know the meaning of washing or of deodorant. They boarded and I held my breath because each time someone moved a waft hit me and made me want to throw up. We eventually took off and had an easy flight. 

The moment the wheels hit the tarmac they were up, opening lockers, walking to the front of the plane and preparing to disembark despite the protestations of the crew. Ha ha there were busses waiting so those that pushed their way up the aisle ended up on the same bus as us that didnt. Im glad I was one of the last to board as the stench was unbearable. 

I had pre applied for a visa and contrary to what happened to others with the same piece of paper (who were charged again for an on arrival visa - much like I was in Rwanda) I had my passport stamped and piece of paper returned to me. Ok cool. That was easy. 

I left the queue and stood looking lost. Lots of signs, and in English, but none said ‘this way’. So I asked and was told to go down the lane which was closed off. Climbing over the barrier I followed instructions, found my way through a myriad of cordoned off ‘lanes’ till I got to a group of people hanging out. No idea of what and why,  I asked someone with skin as pale as mine who told me to go straight ahead, no need to wait. That I did and arrived in the baggage claim area. 

Like most airports they had a screen showing which carousel the bags were on. Beaut. The screen showed it was on page 1 of 3 and as mine was one of the most recent flights my flight would probably be on page three. I waited and I waited all the while looking down at the chaos happening on the carousels. Ha ha. I am in Africa. !!!!!  Eventually I gave up with the screen and went to check each carousel and eventually grabbed my bag. 

Great. I’m away and the hotel has a free shuttle service so are collecting me.  As you would normally expect there would be someone waiting with a sign and your name on it. There wasn’t and after hanging around for a bit someone told me the hotel pickups were ‘down there’. I promptly dragged myself and bag ‘down there’ (about 100 metres away to a vast flat space) only to be confronted by one if the funniest and most frustrating experiences ever. 

There must have been about 50 vans from different hotels round town. The hotel touts were not only collecting people who had booked a transfer but trying to get business from the thousands of people looking for a ride. About 6 flights arrived at the same time as mine so it literally was thousands. A few drivers approached me and ‘helped’ me look for my driver. Of course they couldn’t find him but would take me to my hotel for USD10. Not likely sunshine. 

Only one thing left, to phone the hotel, so flight mode was switched off and I waited for the signal. Oh ‘no reception here’ Im told but if you go back into the arrivals hall you can get wifi there. 

Easy! Not. I walked back and because I was no longer arriving I could not go into the arrivals entrance. 

Ok I go to the departures entrance but because I am not departing Im not allowed in there either. Eventually I found a spot outside where I picked up a signal and rang the hotel. ‘Go back to the bus place where your driver was looking for you’. So I did and there he was with a crumpled sign with my name on it.  It took over 2 hours from the time I landed. 

Drama over we pile into his truck and in no time are at the hotel where I pretty much went straight to bed.  I woke to the sad news that my sister-in-law in Greece had been relieved of her struggle and died overnight. I said goodbye to her last week and it was not unexpected but nevertheless sad. My thoughts are with my brother today. 

Time for lunch and I set off asking for a map before I went. No such thing so luckily I have downloaded a google map but not much use to me as they don’t have proper addresses here. The hotel’s address is ‘near Tel Medehaniem Woreda 3’ and that is not on any map. It is on a dusty stony lane off Nairobi Avenue (but most people including cabbies dont know it as such). This is the street sign which as you can see gives no indication of the hotel address. Google maps is about as vague. 

The concierge did point me in the right direction for restaurants and taking photos of land marks I set off for lunch. 

Despite restaurant recommendations from the hotel (which I could not find) I stopped at a lovely looking place with sheltered outdoor seating called ‘food zone’. It was full of locals so I figured it would be somewhat traditional, and so it was. 

After questioning the items on the menu I settled on ‘Dekaj gel Tibis’ being assured that it was not raw meat which is a real delicacy here ( and not thin sliced or tartare as we do at home but thick chunks). 
 

My meal looked impressive but despite my new chompers I was unable to chew the very very tough grilled/fried meat. Most of the pieces I swallowed whole which probably accounted for the indigestion I suffered later. The injera (typical Ethiopian style sour pancake like bread made with tef - Ethiopias super food) was much nicer than that which I have had at home so that was a plus. Despite not loving my meal at least I tried and will continue to try the different flavours.  I shouldn’t complain. Including a coke it only cost me $12.00NZ

Lunch was followed by an excellent piece of banana cake and an Americano. The Ethiopian coffee having a distinctly different flavour to the Rwandan variety. I can see that I will be visiting ‘Garden of Coffee’ again. 

Back at the hotel the sun was streaming into my room. Perfect for drying my washing!!! I got myself sorted for a tour tomorrow and chilled out for the day.  
A little unsure of getting out alone at night I dined in the hotel on a steak sandwich without the bread!!  I heard shrieks from the chef when the waitress placed my order but he fronted and gave me my piece of steak with some super home made fries. 
There was one other person in the restaurant and I heard her trying to get directions for the grocer shop I had found earlier in the day. I offered to walk her there and so off we went. My tiny torch invaluable as we crossed the broken footpaths and watched for the potholes.  Shopping done we walked back and I realised it wasn’t so daunting out there anyway. Tomorrow I’m going to try the Turkish Restaurant round the corner. 
My day is over and despite the sad news this morning, and the fact that I have done very little it has been a lovely day. Very different to Rwanda but still with its own charm and anything but touristy. 
Night from Addis Abbaba.