Ah Lalibela.

We doubted you. We considered not coming. And we would have been right.

Every tourist who comes to Ethiopia eventually goes to Lalibela. It is here you can see the huge rock hewn churches. We didn't want to go just because we "were supposed to", we tried to evaluate whether or not we actually wanted to come. Our doubts came from 2 main arguments - it's 50$US each for a ticket to the churches, a price unheard of in Ethiopia, and it's where all the tourists are. But ultimately, we didn't think the country would be completed otherwise. Also helped that we were encouraged by other travellers to get the church tickets off other tourists because they were valid for 5 days...

We saved on an 8 hour bus to Waldia and 4 hour minibus over to Lalibela thanks to a lovely Dutch couple we met on the Danakil tour, who had already booked their private transportation straight to Lalibela and invited us along. Free ride. Well, I paid for the guy's lunch, 80 birr, and the ride only took 9 hours total. That includes a pit stop at the garage for a quick break fluid and pressure top up. Upon arriving in the town's centre, which isn't to say much - it's one street maybe 1 km long - we were met with, this time, adults, mostly men, asking where do we want to go? Where are staying? Do you need a guide for the churches? We literally just stepped off the minibus, no room to breath.

Jack usually enjoys the slower style of travelling where you can just walk around town with your backpack on, eventually stumble upon a hostel or hotel that you want to check out, see the room... Nothing rushed. But here, having your backpack on announced to everyone you're fresh bait so it encourages all the guides and people looking for commission to come talk to you. I may sound harsh about this, it may not seem problematic to some of you, but when you can't finish a single sentence amongst yourselves, you can't even discuss a plan for accommodation, without someone interrupting, trust me, it's incredibly rude, disrespectful, and simply put, annoying. So we made it our mission to find a hotel to drop our bags off.

First couple places we check out charged anywhere from 350-800 birr. We finally stumble upon what looked like a new hotel. Score! No English signage yet. We see the room - everything is new, small but sparkling clean, with a shared bathroom that's just as sparkling. 200birr. The next day, we asked to stay 2 more nights if she let us pay 150 (that's about 7.50$US), which she accepted. We rock at this hotel thing.

Bags dropped, off we go. Walking around town, we still get hellos from everyone, this time with occasional "do you need a husband"s and" hey sexy where you go?"s and the classic "male or female?"s.

We walked to what seemed like the very end of the world (I was hungry) to this restaurant Ben Abeba, to get out of the centre. Absolutely beautiful place, the architecture was beautiful, all open air and mountain's edge tables set in these floating pod like platforms. We had ourselves a beautiful sunset diner. All that was missing was the incredibly tempting hand holding, and even steeling a kiss from your partner while watching the sun set. At the end of our meal, we approached a table that had 2 girls, talking about the churches they visited. We not so subtly asked for their tickets which they gave to us! Two girls from Toronto actually, and believe it or, the name I now had to go by (since it's written on the ticket) was Genevieve. It's perfect, I already respond to that name. Jack being Debra was a little more challenging. For our ride back to town, seeing it was dark now, we tried taking a bajaj. Locals here pay 2-5 to cross the town in bajaj. We were quoted 50birr. Right. So we started walking.

About half way a bajaj stopped and said he would bring us to the center. Our first instinct, as we have now been shown is a must, is to ask how much. He looked confused and answered "it's OK, I'm going that way". Now we're confused. A helpful Ethiopian? So we said, "no really, how much?". Confused still, he answered "5-10birr". So we hop in, still incredibly skeptical of this person... And turns out, he dropped us in the centre, and looked confused when I gave him 10. Who would have thought. It's here that I needed to remind myself of the few positive interactions we've had with locals. They are just so few and far in between the negative interactions that I tend to forget about them. Like the lovely medical equipment guy on the bus. The next day we had a kid start talking to us during our walk again, but this time he seemed to just practice his English, was doing great at keeping conversation, and when we were ready to turn directions, he said nice to meet you and walked away. So pleasant.

Saturday went a little off track with what we had planned... We had a cooking class booked for the morning where we learner to make the traditional Ethiopian fasting dish. It combines 7 vegetarian dishes onto their classic injera. I've loved the food here, so it was perfect to learn! Shiro being my favourite, I got to learn how to make it! Their kitchen consisted of rocks on which to rest 3 pots, wood fire burning underneath. All the tools used were so simplistic and yet more then what we needed. You quickly realize the extent at which we can be materialistic. Our food was delicious if I do say so myself!

We then went to try and book our flight out of Lalibela for the 1st. The man informed us there was just 1 seat available but that the power was down. So there's nothing he can do for us. He also informed us flying from Addis Ababa to Kigali, Rwanda, was 729$CAD. What the hell. So off to the Internet Cafe we go. Turns out, flying to Kigali was at best 650$CAD, yet flying to Entebbe, Uganda, was 450$CAD. Change of plans!

When we eventually went back to the flight office around 2pm, we got him to book us the flight on the 2nd (at this point everything earlier was booked) to Dire Dawa, where we want to visit Harar. And then we went back to a Wi-Fi spot to book our flight from Dire Dawa to Entebbe on the 4th. We figure from Entebbe, we'll work our way down overland into Rwanda, and then loop back around.

That frustration over with (took around 2 hours to book these 2 flights), we decided to do the churches only the next day, seeing that Sunday is usually the perfect time to do so anyway. Instead we visited the market.

I needed a belt (sorry Pierre, the metal pin kept falling and I finally lost it). This market was not huge, but tons of people. An enclosure for the animal market. An area for spices, for clothing, for a bunch of plastic colourful things I will never understand, etc. Upon arriving, I asked a girl at a stall how much her belt was so I could use it as a price point for negotiations. She said 50birr. Now I know that's just 3$ once converted, but still for us that meant dinner. So we kept walking and explored the market. Once in the clothing area, all the stalls have basically the same items. So you ask the first person how much, then by the time your at the next one they already have to same belt out ready for you to inspect. Problem is - they started at 150birr for the same belt as earlier. Here comes the wallet again. I laughed and walked away. Next person says "OK OK hebasha price", which means local price, and quotes 100birr. And the next, and the next, all 100birr. Let's all keep in mind that if these belts were actually worth 100birr, no one in Ethiopia would be clothed. There's even a stall that when I approached looking at their belts, I asked how much, and the man asked the guy behind the stall how much it was. We then heard the man respond "forenji or habesha?". For once, just once, it would be nice to not be seen as rich. So I went back to my original lady, and asked if she could do better then 50birr. The girl next door says 100birr. I laughed and said that's more then my original quote, so she responded 60birr last price, while the girl I was speaking with stayed silent. So at this point, I paid the damn 50birr and bought myself a belt.

The rest of the day was spent staying away from people. Jack read for an hour at the coffee shop while I updated this new blog of mine at the Internet Cafe. After resting some more in the room, reading about Uganda, we decided we needed to go out! We dropped by to see if our cooking teacher wanted to join us for a drink. She had wedding preparations to attend to so off we went on our own. We went to Torpedo, a "traditional" tej house. Tej is a local honey wine here, very popular amongst the locals. It's 8pm, dark out, street had just a few people, enough to make us feel safe yet not enough to bother us at all. It was perfect. We got prime seating along the wall, was welcomed by the guy next to us with the usual pleasant bar small talk. We chatted around a bit. And got to enjoy the musicians and dancers entertain the crowd with traditional shoulder dancing. Fun, fantastic evening it a town where that seemed impossible.Read more