Green Ethiopia
The morning dawns hot again and I feel like riding, although my body is starting to tire. The profile of the stage is similar to what we’ve seen these last few days: a steady climb at the start, then back down to the riverbed at the end. The scenery, though pretty, no longer has the majesty of earlier stages, and the villages we pass through are starting to be more spoilt. The children no longer come out to greet us as before; now they amuse themselves with a bit of target practice, and never was a phrase more apt. I think our brightly coloured clothes help them not to miss a single shot. Things get pretty ugly and we decide to stick together, at least while we ride through the villages.
During a quiet spell before lunch I take the chance to chat with one of the Italians in the group, who at 70 is still riding at a very good pace. And I don’t mean a good pace for a 70-year-old, no. A good pace. As we talk, I find out he used to be a professional cyclist. Class is permanent, as they say. And on top of all that, he’s a great guy.
We reach the village of Gashena, the spot chosen for lunch. It’s an ugly village, but full of life. One of Ethiopia’s few tarmac roads runs through it, the first we’ve seen in several days.
We use our visit to the village to recharge our batteries and carry on north. The landscape becomes greener and greener and less poor, so to speak. At least people have more or less fertile land on which to grow their food.
It’s been a long way, but we’re very close to our destination. The Lalibela river is waiting to give us a lovely place to pitch our camp. The last camp of this trip.