Back to Khartoum and onwards to Ethiopia

Back to Khartoum and onwards to Ethiopia

Having recovered from our first breakdown, which had been resolved by changing the old fuel filter, we were still making good time through the expanses of Sudan, east of Khartoum. Our delay was rewarded with the infamous Haboob, a sandstorm that turns day into night, and that we had wanted to experience despite the unpleasant heat it generates in a car with closed windows. We crossed the border having completed the extensive paperwork required by the authorities. This was after we had already had our passports checked and recorded numerous times en route due to the web of frustrating and unnecessary checkpoints. Although by western standards the Sudanese border crossing was convoluted, the change on the Ethiopian side was marked. From whitewashed buildings and guards in some form of uniform, the immigration and customs offices were now mud huts and numerous askari sat around, the ubiquitous AK47 the only mark of their status as border officials. We quickly gathered a group of young hangers-on, eager to practice their English and possibly earn themselves a quick dollar for their help. It seems that everywhere we go the car gives people a false impression of our non-existent wealth and raises expectations of free flowing tips! The customs post is actually 35km from the border so we set off to register the car at Shendi. We also completed the task of changing our dollars for local currency having been let into the bank by yet another AK toting guard.

Once completed we departed for Gondar, a town that excited Rob due to the guide book description as the ‘Camelot of Ethiopia’. However we were in for another setback. Crawling up the steep roads of the highlands we once again began to lose power and eventually ground to a halt on the edge of the road. We knew that it was probably the same problem, caused by a blocked fuel filter; however it also confirmed that our main fuel tank was the source of the problem, rather than the residual build-up of filth in an old filter. We had been warned after our first breakdown that the fuel in Gedaref was unreliable, but we were about to find out how bad it really was! The two day old filter was in the same state as the old one had been and now we were unable to remedy the problem having already used our spare. We shook out the sludge that had accumulated and rinsed it with fuel from our reserve tank that we had kept from Egypt and knew to be decent stuff. Meanwhile team mechanic Harry had got to work on the pipes that undoubtedly were also troubled by the influx of water and grit. It seemed that the filter was not the sole problem but the fuel lift pump had also given up the ghost. Luckily we also had a spare, but after our initial joy at finding the problem and its remedy, the new pump did not fit the old pipes of the fuel lines. After much debate we settled on the only option left to us: Superglue and Quicksteel. A true bodging job was done but we had been there for four hours and it was now dark, a situation we had intended to avoid in Africa, unless absolutely vital. All shattered from the stress and effort that this had caused, we ground on for twenty minutes until the now familiar troubles began to reappear.

This time we found ourselves next to some road construction machinery, and decided to put up camp for the night rather than attempt to fix the problem again. We piled out and Rob and Harry had a look at a steam roller, having spotted that its fuel filter looked similar to our own. I sleepily was sorting out some personal gear at the side of the vehicle whilst Toby was collecting the teams’ sleeping gear from the rear of the car. Suddenly, from the still blackness of the shadows a harsh challenge was shouted and then we heard a sound that we are all familiar with from Hollywood. It was the cold steel clunk of a bolt being worked on an automatic rifle and was very real.

In the shadows several figures crouched nervously behind the thick steel roller of one of the machines and they hustled with the urgency of danger. Our reactions were quick and we all made sure we stood in plain view with our hands in the air, shining torches on ourselves to convince the guards that we were harmless white-skinned tourists, in a spot of trouble and not the shifta that they evidently thought we were. Toby quickly thinking, but moving with the deliberate movements required by the tense and potentially deadly situation climbed into the front to consult the language section of Lonely Planet to find ‘greetings’ in Ethiopian. With no working vehicle our only option was to make friends with the people who were at that point on the other end of a rifle. I cautiously moved forward to where these men now began to emerge from as Toby shouted in a friendly manner ‘ greetings in Ethiopian’, and we echoed his words eagerly, ensuring they got the peaceful message. The weapons were still held up in an aggressive manner but the barrels were now dipped, and I edged forward to shake their hands, still not sure how they might react. ‘Salaam aleikum’ I grinned at them in reflex having spent the last month in Arabic countries and being the first phrase that came to my lips. I shook their hands and saw their flashing white teeth in the dark as they came forwards in relief at our friendliness. I think they were almost as scared as we were, the danger being that their twitching fingers had been poised over the triggers and the possibility of a shot being fired was real, but now the rush of adrenaline relaxed us and we explained our situation.

I awoke in the morning to the rumbles as an excavator revved and poked my head out of the tent. The driver smiled down and soon I was chatting away. His colleagues crowded around us as we sleepily got ourselves together and one agreed to work on the Land Rover to see what he could do. We eventually drained half the tank to see what apart from diesel was in there. Litre upon litre of water and sludge poured out of the plug hole. Finally we were ready to depart and having painfully maintained the usual pretence of being an avid football fan to amuse our enthusiastic Ethiopian fan club, we hit the road.

One more time we pulled over and reluctantly drained the remainder of the tank having discussed the cost of money spent on fuel versus time spent fixing problems caused by the dirty fuel. The locals all crowded round and eagerly bottled the filthy stuff for their own use, as we failed to communicate the reason we were ditching it!

The hotel in Gondar was pleasant and we all enjoyed the first beer for a while that we had promised ourselves whilst we struggled to fix the vehicle. As time went by we all agreed that the attractions of the waitresses were growing, but it is not a problem as we all know that sleeping with a virgin cures AIDS…

Today we spent on a boat and on Lake Tana and visited one of its many monasteries. Tomorrow we are on the road again, next stop, the British Embassy, Addis Ababa.

Alexander Budge