Ethiopia (III.) - Simien mountains

After all it was a stroke of good luck that our backpacks got "misplaced" and we couldn't leave for the mountains as planned. Yes, unsurprisingly it turned out that there wasn't any hike group the following day that we could join as the organiser had assured me. But, surprisingly, he kept his word and did organise the hike - just for the two of us.

The start didn’t look very convincing though. Neither the “facilitator” nor the driver who picked us up in the morning seemed to have much idea about what to do or what was agreed. After two different drivers swapped in the car, we were eventually taken to Debark, a small town about 2 hours drive north of Gondar which is the gateway to the mountains. There we stopped and random people, who might or might not have something to do with the hike organisation, started to appear and disappear, arguing in Amharic with the facilitator and among themselves.

At that point I was giving a 50-50 chance that the whole thing would work out. My face must have shown it because we were parked away in a small restaurant to have lunch - presumably so that the arguing could continue unmolested by my worried glances.

And, incredibly, by the time we were finishing lunch, things seemed sorted out. The car came filled with items clearly related with mountain activities. A small old man with a blanket and a Kalashnikov appeared and hovered around - him we identified as the scout, obligatory to accompany any hike in the Simien. A girl threw a small backpack into the car and sat down obviously to wait for us. She turned out to be our guide - one of only three women among the 64 Simien guides! It made the feminist inside me very happy.

A coffee, and we were good to go.

Our destination for the first day was Sankober, a camp about 30km from Debark. The car dropped us on the way so that we could take a 2-3 hour walk along the escarpment up to Sankober, accompanied by the scout - who embarked on the 4-day hike carrying only the AK-47, a blanket and wearing transparent plastic sandals with socks. Later, observing other scouts, I realised that ALL of them were wearing the same plastic sandals with thick socks. Probably signature footwear for scouts in the Simien. He didn't speak a word of English, and by the time we reached Sankober he taught us the basic Amharic of "we go" and "yes".

Already during this short walk you could suspect it would be spectacular few days.

What we did not suspect was the all-encompassing care we were given on this trip. It's still hard for me to believe that we had a circus of 6 people looking after the two of us during these 4 days. The scout, guide, cook, assistant cook and two mule handlers. Plus the mules, of course. By the time we arrived to Sankober, the cook had already prepared the afternoon tea, coffee and snack.

And as he was preparing the dinner, we could take a walk around...

... before the 2-course evening meal at 3250m altitude.

The following day we started off, in our kingly manner, just with a small backpack. All the rest of our things were apparently taken care of by our entourage and taken to the next camp by mules, which were abundant on offer...

... while we continued along the escarpment.

One of the supposed highlights of the Simien are sightings of the endemic gelada baboons. After my traumatising encounter with a baboon, I wasn't particularly pleased about the idea of that unique experience. Fortunately, these ones turned out to be inoffensive. 

After following the escarpment for the first half of the day we turned inside the mountain, passed a waterfall and one or two remote villages...

... until in the afternoon we reached Geech, on a plateau at 3600m, where we spent the second night.

On arrival it promised to be a true luxury.

And though amenities such as (hot) shower didn't quite materialise, the view from those parts was incredible.

Shortly after our arrival it started raining and the night was very very cold, but the third day dawned with great weather, sun and blue sky.

After an early breakfast we set off through the almost eerie land of giant lobelias and altitude-and-sun-burnt grass. If I ever had to choose a setting for shooting a movie with aliens, it would be this place.

In mid morning we reached Imet Gogo, at 3926m. Here I think I'm starting to run out of synonyms of "incredible".

As we continued down from Imet Gogo along the ridge and then up again, the initially good weather...

... started turning cloudy, and by the time we reached the Inatye peak (4070m), we were shrouded in a cloud with freezing wind. Coming poorly equipped from equatorial Africa, not fun that part. How quickly one forgets the discomforts of iced fingers and running nose when living in an eternal summer.  

In mid afternoon we got to Chennek camp (3660m) for the last night in the Simien.

The plan for the next (fourth and last) day was to hike up the Bwahit peak before heading back to Debark and Gondar, and - together with the third day - it was the most beautiful part of the trip. 

Perhaps it's a bit unfair that with my complete disinterest in animals we managed to get very close to a herd of the endangered walia ibex. And more gelada baboons.

A mild confusion arose when, as we stopped on the way up for what I supposed was a photo-break on a rocky lump, our guide suddenly gave us high-five and congratulated us on reaching the peak. At the same time a man with assorted bottles of Coke, Fanta and similar and ethno craft souvenirs miraculously appeared out of nowhere (gahh!). I don't know if the guide really thought she'd convince me that the place we're standing on and the peak clearly visible some 200m above us are practically the same - but it certainly didn't work. I mean, I didn't come to the mountains to drink a Coke on a rocky lump with the actual top shining in a splendid weather a bit above me. 

It didn't take that much more, and by mid-morning we reached the real and actual Mt Bwahit at 4430m, with amazing views all around (and no Coke or souvenir seller).

Top of Mt Bwahit

We got down to the Chennek camp around noon, just in time for a freshly brewed coffee and before clouds started to set in. Not that it would matter that much, because we had to wait for another 4 hours for the car to pick us up. Am I too cynical if it would surprise me if we didn't have to wait? At least I could draw the scientific observation, as we navigated in the dark among the herds of cows on the (main) road back to Gondar, that there is more cattle wandering at night on the main road in Ethiopia than in Uganda.


More on Ethiopia:
Ethiopia (I.) - Coffee, food and uniqueness
Ethiopia (II.) - Mountains. Or not.
Ethiopia (IV.) - Churches and fleas