North of Nairobi we pass the beautiful landscapes of Mount Kenya and Mount Meru, passing big farm lands that look like an area cut out of the biggest commercial farms in Europe or the States.
A couple of hours later we are in Isiola -a completely different setting. Desert landscapes dominate and people seem more Muslim than anywhere we have been yet. We are told that here they consider themselves Ethiopian. When heading to Nairobi, they say” going to Kenya”. Camels, goats, cows and donkeys are everywhere. We know that we are now going to the deserts of northern Kenya, rumours of bandits”The Siftas” are many, but we have talked to travellers that say that it is a thing of the past. After a night in Isiola, at Lotte and Davids oasis (MS colleagues), with Danish homebake, lasagna, red wine, and some good advice on the road through the Kaisut desert to Marsabit, we head North, stucked up with water bottles to throw out for the cattle herders along the way. This, we where told, was the way to avoid trouble and they also told us never to stop.
Without too much trouble, we managed to get to Marsabit, our only scare was at the small village where they at the local “cooler box kiosk” told us that a couple of weeks back, a truck had been shot at because it had refused to stop. Ok, no problem, we will stop. The tribes along the way, a mixture of Samburu, Randilles and Gabra, all nomads with camels and cattle.
Dressed prepared to war with spears and sticks, some should have AK47, luckily we didn’t meet any of the bad guys. In many ways people in this area are closely related to the Masais. The area has been known for fights between the different tribes, all related to the stealing of one anothers cattle. As usual we had a small chat with everyone we met about the British premier league. The common subject all over East Africa. And we haven’t got any insider knowledge on how best to drain blod from jugular vain, so soccer it is.
Another great MS experience, we managed to hook up with Eva, another colleague who is placed in this far away corner of Kenya. Impressive to hear about her work and even more impressive to see how far out MS reaches. A brave women and a great host. Thanks. Karl and Alfred hooked up with the guard and Barak, a small boy who visits often, to play soccer, again a fantastic universal language.
From Marsabit to Moyale we had to cross the Chalbi desert, known for nothing but stones and heat. A nightmare for travellers with sore butts and a swollen eye. Malin drove the 250 km´s, the toughest we have done yet. 80 kms from Marsabit, we have the first puncture, knowing that we only had one spare tyre left for the rest of the journey.
20 km´s left to Moyale and another puncture. Wheel of, the last spare on and then of again.. ups the front tyre has a bubble and will most likely burst soon. Mads on the back of a truck with the tyre, and the rest trailing after at low speed, trying to make it in to town. In Moyale we are releaved and gets the tyres fixed, while the goats watch. Karl and Alfred drums up the whole town for a soccer match, Alfred acting as Schmeichel.
In a few seconds the kids are so many that K and A retires to the car. Still the two blokes are closely marked by 40 kids with the nose against the windows. Scary for a person who is used to at least a couple of meters to breathe.
The town seemed drained for water, but we manage to find a small guest house with a shower and then went straight to bed. Next morning we wanted to proceed to Ethiopia.
This should become a very disappointing day. The Kenyans sent us across to check, they where quit sure that we couldn’t get in with out a visa. An hour later we had established that they where right. Contrary to all we had been told. You have to get visa in Nairobi, which now lies accross the two desserts. Hmm, who can we pay, who can we call. No way, after calling the embassy in Addis we found that there was nothing to do. Back to Nairobi. Meanwhile we had to get the best out of the time, taste the Khat, see an eye doctor (the picture in the picture folder will explain). Luckily there was an eye doctor in Moyale a town of mud huts and dirt roads. Pills, cream and eye drops should help. Quit the danish medication you are trying. Ok, i have no choice but to trust this desert doctor.
Meanwhile we had bought Chinese produced tyres that looked ok and almost fitted perfectly. The mecanic and the watching goats where at it again. With a better eye and two new tyres we where ready to challenge the desert.
Back in Marsabit we went to evas house, celebrating that the worst part was over we ordered take away from a hut down the road, really good food.
50 kms out of Marsabit the new China tyre start to sound funny. We all jump out to check. Ching Chong shit as we say in Zim. A peace of rubber has fallen off. We put on the old tyres and proceed. Another 10 kms down the road we suddenly get taken over by our own wheel and the drum. We all new that we where f..... . The left rear wheel on the ground and the tyres, nots and drum spread out in bandit country. Things could get scary. Luckely a car stops, the experienced desert driver explains how to deal with this. Put the tyre back on with out the drum and roll in to the nearest town, Laisamis, there you will find a mission with a workshop and a good mecanic. He helps us put the tyre on, but before he is done the Italian lady who he is driving insists that they have to go on. Bastards, five kms from help in bandit country, the driver finds some spare nots looks sad and says ”get out of here, its not safe”. Malin starts walking to town. Angry and scared i get the last not on while Stine, Karl and Alfred seems very calm under a tree. Its on, lets go. We roll off, Stine hanging out of the window to check that the tyre is in place. At arrival in town, we meet Malin with an Italian father from the mission, Mohammed the mecanic, who they picked up in the towns only bar, it is still only 10 am. In tough times you are happy with any help, Mohammed should later prove to be our saviour.
We get in to the mission station, and immidiately Mohammed and his helper Salim starts jacking up the car. Tree studs are broken, what to doo. No problem. We will weld new ones on the back. Hmm. A long day of monitoring and working closely with the guys enden with only one broken stud back and a tyre fitted somewhat ok. Next morning we were ready to go on, or we had to get to Nairobi to fix the car. A night without any sleep. I have never been as nervous as this in my entire life. Crossing a desert with bandits, on a tyre bolted on with what we could find and tools that you can buy better in a toy store. I had to send up the first prayer in my entire life. Ifthtis tyre flew off we would be in trouble.
To help us, Father Edward tells Mohammed and Salim to join us for the first 20 kms. Great. We head out and before we leve town they have offered to go with us to Isiola, bringing tools slightly better than ours.. Yeepeeh.
For 140 kms, we go at high speed. Mohammed says that the currogation will damage the car if we go slow. Every time we are in safe areas, we stop to check the bolts. The guys tell us stories about places where there supposedly often are bandit attacks. So we speed by several other people seemingly stuck on the road “don´t stop, Siftas” is the words from our saviours. Arriving at he tar road 20 kms from Isiola is the biggest moment yet. We all sing our favorit song about Jesus, not quite converted but close.
Mohammed and S,alim a bit surprised but in full understanding of this, try to sing along.
The trip to Nairobi is pure pleasure. We are back at Upper Hill Campsite, tired and releaved.
The car is at Toyota and we a hoping to find our way to Uganda soon. The two hours in Ethiopia, which we where granted by the officials, were a lifetime expirience. When we were a bit up the road to find diesel, we got chased down by immigration officials in a Taxi. They thought we were making a run for it up to Addis. Ethiopia for a day is not recommendable. But it really seemed like a fantastic country. Hey but, you only need two hours. We even met a desendant of Hailey Sal lassie.
On our way back we passed the Maximum Miracle Centre at the Equator, I wonder what they do? Where they performing miracles when we passed?
Iam enthralled!
Posted by: Linda | 18-05-09 at 09:34