Whatever perception one has of Ethiopia (protracted by the mass media, war ravaged, famine, drought) it took us by total surprise. After the dusty border town we crossed the dry southern region. As we approached the highlands the landscape with the most extensive contiguous area of fertile land amazed us. There is not one iota of soil that is not tilled, planted, harvested, re or de forested. The road was generally good tar but not one minute of the slow and curving drive was without a human walking, working, lazing, kids shouting “you, you” or driving cattle & goats etc.
Our aim was the Bale Mountains but when we reached Awassa – the only town in the south, that could change money (and that was not at lunchtime!) - we had had enough and found a Hotel on beautiful lake Awassa , still a rift valley lake.
"Lake Awassa at sundown"
Here we could take stock of the damage done in the last week of dust, corrugation and rocks and to acclimatize a bit to these fertile surroundings and its people. We had a choice to either camp in the extensive grounds with huge trees & lots of forest birds or take a Banda (free standing room) in this worn 70’s style hotel. 
"At lake Awassa monkey power replaces solar power"
Colobus monkeys took an immediate liking to Konstantin and made him their playground and perch.
A taxi driver of an Indian three wheeler, spontaneously helped us find all the necessary places for welding and soldering of rattled equipment and tried to assist us getting setup with the internet connection, but no luck here. The state run ET ETA system does not link in easily with ours and is overloaded, so we have to rely on Internet cafes.
After a good clean up session we approached the local Branch of Toyota for an assessment of Konstantin who had developed a “sore throat”. But this was the filthiest, oil soaked ‘garage’ we had ever seen, with 10 and 13 year old youngsters assisting. We decided to rather take Konstantin’s precious innards to a more trustworthy place.
A lot of rain had fallen in the Bale Mountains and thus our decision was made to go to Addis Ababa and do the northern historical circuit first.
Upon leaving Nairobbery we enjoyed beautiful tar roads and Konstantin being the correct height at the rear axle. We headed to Meru National Park of Joy Adamson/Elsa fame. This Park, being recently promoted and upgraded, has new tar up to the entrance gate but is one of the rarer visited ones. As is normal by now, we are the only visitors of the self-drive type and only see two local cars. The Park is very dry except for small swampy areas and small rivers sustaining relatively small numbers of game. Here the Elephants are taking care of the thorn bush encroachment.
Next on was Samburu Game Reserve. This is a perfect example of how a game area should NOT be managed. 15 years back we experienced the same and to our disappointment, not much has changed since then. Every tour guide driver does as he pleases and the area alongside the only waterway, the Ewaso Ngiro River, is churned up to a powdery dust of up to 30cm deep around every single dry bush or tree.
Although this is home to an amazingly different variety of game like Grevy’s Zebras, the Reticulated Giraffe, the Beisa Oryx (as our Gemsbok, only 2/3rd of its height), an abundance of Vulturine Guinefowl and the comical Gerenuk. However, due to drought, this reserve has plenty of cattle and goats to look at and should be avoided at all costs.
"The great north highway crossing the Koroli Desert"
Early the next morning we tackled the infamous Great North Highway. The first 50 Km were tar or a good service road but then it deteriorated by the kilometer. High corrugation, sharp stones and fallen off parts and tyres of fellow drivers kept your attention at peak, it was slow going.
We managed OK, doing the 250km's in five and a half hours and decided Marsabit and Henry the Swiss’ campsite (without any sign, just GPS co ordinates and word of mouth!) would do just fine for a rest especially as we had been warned of worse to come.
Early, Sunday morning we started at a snails pace on a very rocky, car destroying stretch, again littered with abandoned tyres and even cars. The countryside changed from arid to rocky desert. Lots of camel caravans, cattle and goats were on the move, one wonders how they survive? A sand storm blew in from the east giving everything a surreal feeling in the morning light.
"Sandstorm at the Dida Galgalu plains"
The last 100 km had been graded recently (heavy corrugation before) and we managed to finish this section of 300 km in six hours, 9 hrs being the norm before.
The border crossing at Moyale was quick and easy on the Kenyan side but Ethiopia welcomed us to a Sunday 3 hour lunchtime wait and a jolting awakening to their time zone, border town touts and right hand driving- even in the between borders zone! Lunch hour is kept everywhere, in small or big towns every one downs tools. As it was late afternoon, we decided to take the ‘best’ recommended Hotel Bekele Mola and were allowed to camp in the back yard with three other cars who survived the Great North Highway that day. Ablutions were back to basics as there was a water and power shortage. At 20h00 the electricity stopped and the entire town was dark and started to settle down from a very noisy traffic, hooting and screeching setting.
The average Kenyan driver has either no license, bought one on the black market or never learnt basic driving rules to follow an organized flow of traffic.
Instead of robots, Nairobi prefers roundabouts which invites any style of entering, with the result that most of the time those that are in are not coming out anymore – or have to brutally force their way out - and those which want to go in block the traffic in such a way that it comes to a total standstill. Speed limits are 50 km/h, but only on paper. Any speed goes with a smile. The changing of lanes happens as they please and if they could overtake you underneath or over the top, they would do that as well! A millimeter sometimes decides between continuation of your trip or a total write off. The full day is peak time and you have to be thankful when you reach your destination.
Any SA taxi driver is tame by comparison. The only difference is the Kenyans do it with a smile, with very little aggression, shouting, or giving dirty hand signals. But they use your foreign number plate to challenge your driving ability, nerves and willingness to obtain scratches to go ahead. It was challenging!!!!
After our outing to cross the equator, last Chinese Sizzlers, final Schnapps, sad goodbyes from Marc and Lorna and patched up Mad one, it was quite an effort to get going again and to carry on alone with our mad travel.
We took it easy and started with
What a pleasure this park was with its masses of flamingoes and lots of white rhino and even more buffalo - But -- there is a severe drought and water shortage is very visible!
A news clip reported that the boreholes are dry and thousands of animals will die. We left all the milling tourists behind and found the remote dry waterfall campsite, which we had to ourselves with a troop of baboons. The leader wanted to intrude and showed us his enormous fangs, but when we respectfully drew the border line of a safety zone, he accepted and let his troop assemble around us and they started a relaxed grooming session with youngsters amusing us with their antics. Then the troop leader approached slowly to within five meters of where we were sitting at our campsite and flopped down on his stomach and knees and closed his eyes for power naps. For about fourty minutes we did have this honour. Then they all started to go for a late afternoon grazing session and settled in the huge fever and fig trees next to us for the night. Mr. Troop leader stayed in full view on his perch and kept watch over his troop and us on this full moon night, barking at the invisible odd leopard – an experience never to be missed!
Here we chose the remote fig tree campsite. A clear mountain stream runs through the campsite to enter the saline waters of the lake. Very few flamingoes could drink here as herds of cattle and their herders came in a continuous stream to drink here. This National Reserve is managed by the community. As soon as it got dark every single flamingo vanished to our dismay. But as soon as the full moon rose there was a huge migration of every single flamingo of
The next lake in line,
