Behind bars

24th-25th January – Days 117-118 – Lake Langano, Ethiopia to Moyale, Kenya

We got onto the first bus that drove past us on its way to Awasa via Shashemene, the Rastafari capital of Ethiopia which we had decided to skip but which we had to use as our transport hub like pretty much everyone wanting to move around in Southern Ethiopia does. At Shashemene bus station we swapped onto another bus going to Dila – we also had to skip Arba Minch, Konso and the Omo valley and head straight down south on the map due to time pressure - where we arrived just before sunset. Dila is your classic one street town with no attractions but a nice air to it, especially in the evening light. Sadly no picture though, so you'll just have to take my word for it.

We found a nice pension recommended to us by a professor of something at Dila University who rode on the same bus with us. We trekked down the street for some injera with bozena shiro (chick pea and meat stew) in double portions, as this was possibly the last time in a while that we'd get Ethiopian food. Based on what I'd heard from fellow travellers, I was also intimidated enough about the coffee in Kenya being of the instant, watery variation that I ended my meal with a double espresso at 11pm. I paid the price for this by not sleeping until I got on the bus towards Moyale the next morning at 6am, but I wouldn't say I regretted it one bit. You can take the girl out of Finland, and so on...

Happily the crowded bus bounced on and passed by gradually more arid landscapes, and we reached Moyale on the Ethiopian side around 4pm. We still had enough time to cross the border as the posts closed at 6pm, so we decided to hop onto the Kenyan side straight away, even if advised against by people telling us that the Ethiopian side of the town was nicer. We ignored this advice as we were eager to shake the Ethiopian dust off ourselves and embark on something new as soon as possible, and also to make sure we would catch some form of transport onwards first thing in the morning. Besides, the people advising us were Ethiopian anyway.

The process at both border posts was quick and easy, and we were the new owners of Kenyan visas (US$25 a piece for three months) within half an hour. On the Kenyan side of the border things definitely seemed to roll on at a slower, calmer pace. Buildings looked slightly more shabby and there were fewer signs for hotels and restaurants. There were also fewer people on the streets, and they generally behaved in a more polite and tranquil manner than what we had encountered in Ethiopia. We spotted a sign for a KWS (Kenya Wildlife Service) campsite right after crossing the border and were considering camping again, but were persuaded to go for a hotel instead by a man called Stephen who we met at a street-side shop while having a drink to ponder our options. Stephen hinted that camping might not be very safe unless we asked to put up our tent at the police station. Whether he meant to say this was because of the lions and hyenas that apparently were found at the outskirts of town from time to time (believe it who will) or the local shady characters, we were not too sure, but let him take us to the cheap and less-so cheery Hotel Mediina in any case. We quickly felt the increase in price level compared with Ethiopia as we paid Ksh 400, or the equivalent 100 birr as we didn't have any Kenyan shillings yet, for a room with no lights and a possibility for a bucket shower in the dark. In Ethiopia the price for a similar room with lights would usually be around half the price. The power cut was perhaps timed to show the place in a better light (mind the pun), as the lack of lights meant we couldn't see the cockroaches running around on the floor unless our flashlights brushed by them by accident.

Stephen was an engineer working on a project setting up a new bank branch in Moyale. We met him again a bit later on at the Prison Canteen, what he had titled as the place to be in the evenings in Moyale. This ex-prison converted bar-restaurant turned out to be a rather lively place despite the trouble we had finding it – either it was due to the power cut again or everything in Moyale just is badly lit. The evening stretched onto wee hours as we enjoyed our first taste of ugali (the staple food in Kenya, a porridge like thing usually made of cassava) with some meat sauce and what could be described as very similar to the concept of “green groceries” used in SE Asia, and quite a few rounds of Tuskers while conversing with Stephen about Kenya, wuzungus and Europe. Like so many times before, we ended up having to convince him about life not being all that glorious in Europe. “No, you won't find money lying on the streets everywhere. No, it is not true that there is no unemployment in Europe. Yes, wuzungus get sick too.”

We certainly do, especially if we've had a bit too much to drink and have to get up early the next morning. This time we narrowly escaped with just a mild headache each and a zillion itchy pimples for me from whatever crawled out from the bed at night and had a blood feast on my back. We really have to start carrying one of those big bastard sprays of “KILL-ALL” from now on. Welcome to Kenya – the promised land of wildlife.