OK so we set off north on Sunday 10 July with Graham and Marie-Claire, back along the road towards Uganda, then, at Gilgil, turned north towards Lake Turkana. We stayed the next couple of nights at a clean, spacious and, compared with Nairobi, peaceful Thompson Falls camp site at Nyahururu. Here we saw Kikuyu people, in full regalia, who charged us 200Ksh (£1) to take their photos and then a further 200Ksh to look at the Falls. The 2 bikers, Dave and Vince joined us after replacing Dave’s shock absorber and we had our first proper camp fire for ages, sitting well into the dusk putting the world to rights
The first stretch to Maralal was holed tar for half of the distance then reasonable gravel for the rest. This was our last opportunity to tank up for the 830km stretch of rough and remote tracks to Jinka in Ethiopia and the next available diesel. We had understood that there was a Nakomat (Kenyan supermarket chain) there but could tell as we drove into town on the dusty water cut streets that this was unlikely. Sure enough we caused a bit of a stir trying to find the things we needed in the low tin shacks that serve as shops and quickly collected a large entourage of children, beggars and the just curious that tried to push in to each shop we visited. Here we also bought small bags of rough chewing tobacco to swop for photographs (instead of money) further north, the first time we realised that photography could be bad for your health. What a surprise when a Kenyan business woman passing by told us that she, like Terry, is a Rotarian, so they had a quick chat and she was delighted to receive a Howden Rotary banner for the Rotary Club of Machakos complete with photo shoot alongside theLR.
We had been told that the usual camp site was closed so we had to talk Maralal Lodge into letting us camp on the lawn. They soon agreed and we had another quiet night there although later we discovered that Camel Camp had re-opened. Had we known we would have camped there in order to meet and swap info with other overlanders travelling north or south in this remote region. Planning the next section had brought back many memories and we were minded of Pete and Jakki (‘75) and Mick Rust (’72) as we discussed Baraloi, Baragoi, South and North Horr and Loyangalani.
The next morning we set off with two very overloaded vehicles carrying all our fuel, food and water as well as supplies, spares, excess clothes and water for the two bikers who can’t carry big loads on such rough roads. There are two roads north to Baragoi and we had been warned that the western route was all broken rock so opted for the eastern one. We weren’t disappointed - rough, narrow tracks wound their way high into the mountains, all the stuff 4x4s were built for. It was good fun but we both took it easy trying to preserve the suspension. The bikes need to travel much faster to keep momentum, we had agreed to travel in convoy due to a risk of bandits, so they kept having to wait for us, in the searing heat this was not very pleasant for them, though I suppose it gave them time to catch their breath after battling with the heavy bikes over rocks and through dry, often sandy river beds.
There was a long valley stretch of riverine forest with smooth sandy tracks – just what we picture Africa to be. We started to see Samburu people, beautifully adorned with ochre coloured cloth wrapped around them. Women with layers and layers of neck beads, bangles and head beads, the men, tall and slim with a wraps around their wastes and over their shoulder. Male headdress varied from village to village but always highly ornate using feathers and or shells with beaded strings around forehead, ears and chin. The men carry long slender spears and headrests for sleeping. No Western cast offs here. There were herds of domesticated camels grazing at the side of the road.
We caught up with the bikers in Baragoi and they had already found the local eating house. The four of us shared goat stew, spinach and chapattis for lunch – delicious and all for £4 with no shortage of locals to translate and advise about the road ahead.
That night we camped at a community camp site just north of South Horr. Again the site was great, the welcome genuine and the basic facilities more than adequate. There was another group at the camp staying in the simple bandas. They were zoologists from Nairobi carrying out a bird count around the southern shores. Apparently this is an important migratory route for European Raptors and they had been commissioned by Scott Wilson, a British Company, who are carrying out a feasibility study here for guess what………..a 6,600 hectare wind farm! Both they and the locals have very mixed feelings about the impact it will have on this unique and fragile part of the world when the heavy machinery moves in and the necessary roads are completed giving access to civilisation.
Another 80kms and about 5 hours took us to our first view of Lake Turkana otherwise known as the Jade Sea. Unbelievably beautiful and yet the lava boulder strewn terrain felt inhospitable as the surrounding desert is as desolate as any we have seen. There were a few Turkana bomas tucked along the lakeside, in valleys presumably to escape the strong winds that blew from late afternoon and throughout the night. The hot blast was much like facing a hair dryer. We proudly bought fish for supper from Turkana fishermen for £1 each, but when we tried to prepare them later we discovered that they were inedible for us. The oasis of Loyangalani was much more populated than in the 70s with a large village of Turkana, El Molo and Rendille people living alongside. Oasis lodge where we camped in 75 was ridiculously expensive (750 Ksh just for a dip in the pool) and very run down and not available to campers. We told the manager that we had floated about in the very same pool 36 years ago and that we had the photos on our lap top. He said he said that he would like to see them when we came for a swim, Jean said that it would cost him 750Ksh.so we stayed at Palm Shade camp for 2 nights. This was lovely and fascinating too, owned by a Rendille man, who has engaged locals to build traditional style huts (bandas). The men throw the earth with gypsum floor and build the hand made brick half walls, then the women take over, complete with beaded necklaces and brightly coloured sarongs, build the roof structure, clad it with hessian then waterproof sheeting and finally combed palm leaves for the top so it looks a bit like thin thatch. Graham is a great fisherman, so to celebrate his birthday the men went fishing in the hope of catching the huge and delicious Nile Perch. Some years ago the world record Nile perch was caught in these waters and our boat captain told us that he had landed fish in excess of 200lbs. We motored out to one of the islands and trawled lures for over an hour, David got a bite, but Graham hooked something that the captain said was a really big fish. Sadly, the catch was nil and the new world record lives to bite another day.
Our gruelling yet amazing journey continued in temperatures of more than 34degC mostly along the lake shore. The bikers struggled on for another day but after a couple of falls and punctures they decided not to come all the way to Ethiopia and opted to charter a boat from the opposite side of the lake to take them over there to head back south in the hope of easier riding. We later got a text to say that they were safe but had ridden 280kms of the worst roads they had seen in Africa. We spent the last night with them in a self catering guest house (for 6 people it was cheaper than camping) in Sibiloi game reserve , watched topi, and zebra grazing in the sunset over the lake. The 2 remaining cars drove on, visited a petrified forest, and Koobi Fora, the site which Richard Leakey and his team used in the 70s as they searched for early hominids. This is where the 1.8 million year old skull of ‘Turkana boy’ was discovered. Now this area is known as the cradle of mankind along with equally important sites in Tanzania and Ethiopia. It was really quite moving to walk the same ground and to see replicas of skulls showing our development to Homo Sapiens in this hot dusty desert miles from anywhere, even the staff are only posted here for a month at a time. We had to have our passport numbers recorded at Illiret police station where they told us that there are bandits,(mostly cattle rustlers), and that the only tourist related incident was recorded 7 years ago . Then we struck out, following T4A (on the sat nav), but no clear tracks through a few villages towards Ethiopia. There is no border town as such and we were well into Ethiopia before we realised that we were in fact there. We bush camped that night just short of Omorate town where we got our passports stamped into Ethiopia but there is no customs to stamp the carnet de passage. The Bailey style bridge which crosses the Omo river here (if you want to travel west) had its stanchions washed away four months ago at both ends so it now stands with one end in the river and the other 15 meters above the bank as it pivots on the centre stanchions like a giant see saw.
Following this route will take us into the South Omo valley in the remote south western corner of Ethiopia famed for its unsophisticated indigenous people.
Terry has just said that the driving was the best 4x4 driving that he can remember, and we both feel that this section has been one of the highlights of the trip so far.
We have just added more pictures to the blog.
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