Foggiest recollections

Let’s recap.

Egypt: desert, brown, hot, no clouds
Sudan: desert, brown, hot, no clouds until crazy thunderstorm
Ethiopia: “hold my beer”

On the way south from “Storm City”, we were quite surprised to see the color green. At first it was a bit on a solitary tree, then some green leaves sprouting from the ground, and once we got across the Ethiopian border it was brown’s turn to go into hiding.

Imagine spending 3 weeks without seeing clouds or forests. Then you get in a car and a short drive later you’re surrounded by the most beautiful, lush valley you’ve ever seen.

And it just got better.

Once we got set up in our first stop of Gondar, we promptly signed up for a day-long mountain hike and went to sleep.  The next morning, we got into a shared taxi and drove a little way out of town.

We started out with a couple guides, one local and our driver. Soon we picked up a proper mountain guide. All of them were acclimated to the altitude. Hang on, altitude?

Yeah, the air was a bit thinner up there. To my surprise, we were somewhere above 2000 meters (6500 feet).

So what does that mean for our hike? On the downside, the air was getting thinner as we ascended.

On the upside, though:

We passed several villagers working the hills. Men and women alike were shepherding packs of sheep or goats or a mysterious Ethiopian beast called “walia”, while some were hiking to or from some job in another village. They were all very friendly.

Even though the view of the valley between the mountains was already breathtaking, the guides took us further up the ridge. The clouds seemed to sit at the summit of our particular peak. As we climbed, they closed around us.

We passed more fields of goats/sheep/whatever grazing, adrift in a green sea. I was once again reminded of a visit to Ireland, two decades past.

Not all the jobs in the mountains related to large animals. A hut we passed had a set of sturdy yellow boxes with white lids stacked innocuously. It turned out to be a colony of bees.

We took a much-needed (for me) break at the top of one of the peaks. The view was probably spectacular except all we could see was white.

As we waited and my breathing began to return to a merely troubled version of normal, the clouds drifted by and started to lift. Almost like a mirage in the desert, we thought we saw hints of green in the shadows, disappearing as soon as we’d point them out. It seemed like ages went by. A family we’d seen hiking up the mountains with a couple of loudly complaining teenagers came and went, not enamored with the vista. But our perseverance was at long last rewarded.

Within minutes, the clouds lifted and we had an amazing view from 2750 meters (9000 ft).

With the clouds parted, you could see charming pastoral scenes from high above, as if from a low-flying plane. I’m pretty sure we were near the max altitude you’d fly without cabin pressure or supplemental oxygen so it all made a weird sort of sense.

All good things must come to an end, they say, and so we began our descent. We could see our route better this time, passing next to small farms and through thickets of narrow trees.

I’m glad we had a guide, because I’m sure we wouldn’t have always chosen the route that we ended up needing to take.

Once we got off the peak and onto the backside of the mountain, it morphed into more wild pastoral scenes full of furry animals. Some of them even posed for a photo.

Suddenly we spotted a herd of baboons, probably the same we’d seen far below us on the way up. This time, they were on a mountainside just past the end of the farmland. Dave and I took off at a respectful run to a better vantage point.

I got out my binoculars and tried to take a photo through them, a sort of poor-man’s telephoto lens. Most of the results were too blurry to keep but a few came out and I got a decent look at what seemed to be the alpha of the group.  He didn’t seem amused at our antics.

We were exhausted but delighted as we hiked the rest of the way to our ride. Unfortunately, we didn’t meet much more wildlife…

Next time: a fall of brown water

P.S. Dave says: “Oh, the altitude?  Huh, didn’t really bother me.”