Home » Kenya Ethiopia » Cycle to the Summit Part 15 - Addis Ababa to Nairobi

We visited our first WaterAid projects in Addis Ababa, and saw some impressive progress being made. We then cycled south through rolling hills and past fruit trees at the side of the road. After we crossed into Kenya, we had to hitch a lift on an overland truck for the northern part of the country where there is danger from Somalian bandits. Ruth climbed Mt Kenya, we crossed the equator, and arrived in Nairobi in time to celebrate Toby's birthday at the city campsite.

Cycle to the Summit Part 15 - Addis Ababa to Nairobi

Toby Hammond
2006-06-25 19:58:45

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source: http://www.cycletothesummit.org.uk

Addis Ababa (Ethiopia) to Nairobi (Kenya)

Highlights of Ethiopia's capital, Addis Ababa included visiting the incredibly luxurious Sheraton Hotel (only for a beer though), and a night demonstrating our finely-honed dancing skills at a city club. Addis was also, importantly, our first opportunity to visit some WaterAid development projects. For more info, read the visit report.
After a relaxing, (and as usual, longer than planned) stay with John, a kind cycle enthusiast working in the city, we headed south toward Moyale, the border town with Ethiopia. To our amazement we were recognised in nearly every town - people calling out "WaterAid" or "London to Johannesburg" - they had seen us interviewed on Ethiopian TV,and in the national press. Fame at last!!!
We passed fields of termite mounds - some with tall thin chimneys, others looking more like Henry Moore sculptures. The traffic (and towns) were thin on the ground, and we meet spear - wielding tribes herding cattle on the plains. At one place we rolled into a bizarre Rastafarian village. Instead of the barrage of YOU-YOU-YOU we are used to, we are met by slouching rasta-kids, calling "Yo mon, hey…what's up??". A spaced-out American guy living there believes Haille Sellassie (former Ethiopian emperor) is the immortal King whose coming the Rastafarian religion foretold. But the locals mock him, shouting "Haille Sellassie is dead!!" whenever they see him.
We pedal on and cross lush rolling hills that remind us of home. Each village we pass through seems to specialise in growing a particular fruit - and in succession we gorge ourselves on pineapples, mangos, guava, watermelon and bananas. Strangely, no-one seems to bother transporting fruit around - you can't get a pineapple in a mango-village.
In a village called Finchawa, it was still difficult to find ...