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AFRICAN EXCURSION Culture and Rugged Beauty on an African Road Story and Photos by Gordon Black “Elian! elian!” The children cried. “allez, allez,” in French. We’d fig- For several days nobody could figure ured out the adult greetings quickly out the meaning of this. Maybe, we — a friendly smile or nod and a reasoned, it was the equivalent of hearty salem, sometimes it was a a double-dip of friendliness and we naturally school.) We also came upon a criterium years later, though a border skirmish broke ored sweaters and, on occasion, jackets — bug bites on my body. Walt, my traveling those that employed a simple water-cool- reciprocated with “Salem! Salem!” race, one of three bike races we’d witness out a few months after we visited in 1997 even on the hottest days. companion from Seattle, had begun to doc- ing technique to keep the beverages cool. Then the next batch of Eritrean chil- over the coming two weeks. Bicycle racing is and escalated into a major dispute between Sleep came easily in the simple inns ument the inventive wiring arrangements Hydration was, of course, a major dren would hail us with elian and we’d smile the national sport in Eritrea, likely because the two countries. where we bunked, though mosquito slap- (while showering in Adwa, Barb had issue. Each night we ritually pumped well like big, dumb foreigners on mountain bikes. of Italy’s colonial influence. We sailed through the border formali- ping was usually a pre-nocturnal ritual. touched a bare wire that proved to be live.) water through our filters and carried four There were six us — five guests being Our route from the capital took us ties into Ethiopia and immediately noticed The quality of the accommodations ranged It’s a paradox of travel in this part of to five liters each. We compliantly lugged steered on a loop through Eritrea and directly south towards the Ethiopian border two things: the looming hills and the considerably. Some had flushing toilets the world that beer and the even more the heavy water as we pedaled through dra- Ethiopia by David Mozer, a Peace Corps vet- from where we’d continue south before absence of pavement on the road. Well, and and piped water while others had showers ubiquitous bottled colas are easier to matic landscapes of saw-toothed moun- eran who’s segued his youthful service into heading east across the Semyen Mountains, the fact that the day was warming to an SPF- which barely dispensed water. Even the obtain that safe drinking water. But we rel- tains, red soils, and endless blue skies. Bicycle Africa, a business leading bicycle then north and east, back into Eritrea and 45 rating, which meant careful application of most modest of inns offered electric light. ished every road-side stand selling Coca- From this rugged environment, farmers tours through African countries (and now a the Red Sea. We had been told to prepare for UV protective lotion over any exposed skin. One morning after a particularly rest- Cola or Pepsi. The ones that offered refrig- etched terraces into steep hillsides, impro- few others) from a base in Seattle, a moderate level of riding, with daily dis- Locals, we noticed, tended to sport dark-col- less night, I counted twenty harmless bed- eration were even more welcomed than vised simple irrigation, and employed road Washington. Over twelve days, we’d log tances in the twenty- to fifty-mile range. We about 400 miles through dramatic scenery knew to expect hills and heat, though by late and end up in the ancient, but now sadly rav- September daily highs would not be exces- aged, Red Sea port city of Massawa. sive. In truth, we were the first paying guests Our group of five were an eclectic mix: for the Eritrea to Ethiopia tour, and David Walt, a Boeing engineer; John, an Ottawa Mozer had researched the route the previ- computer programmer; Suzanne, a Seattle ous year, undertaking parts of the journey by marketing specialist; myself, a journalist; and bus. As we soon discovered, this meant that indefatigable New Hampshire retirees, Don the exact nature of what lay ahead each day and Barb, who were also veterans of the became more the subject of speculation than Peace Corp and other Bicyle Africa tours. hard fact. This made the adventure all the We met in the Eritrean capital of Asmara, a more interesting. charming city which was remade by Italians By the second day, we’d dropped from during the colonial period between 1880 the high plateau upon which Asmara sits and 1941, and, at 6,500 feet above sea level, and enjoyed our first night at Mendefera in a the air remained pleasantly cool and mos- simple but comfortable hotel. We began to quito free. It’s broad main boulevard and sense that the road beyond the border would tree-lined side streets retain a Mediterranean take us into the mountains we’d been admir- ambience, and there are still hints of Italian ing from afar. Before dinner, two of us wan- influence sixty years later. We soon became dered the town and fell in with Kidane, a familiar with the cafes and bakeries where friendly fifteen-year-old who knew some excellent espresso and a plate of pastries cost English and attempted to teach us some us less than would a regular cup of coffee at words of Tigrinyan, the dominant language Starbucks. of Eritrea (and the neighboring province of Our departure from Asmara was Tigrinya in Ethiopia). marked by smiles from the kitchen staff at That night, we dined on spicy zigini the hotel where we stayed, and much gig- stew and delicious flat bread known as gling from the groups of children who had ingera. The food was generally good, a mix- gathered outside the hotel courtyard. Six ture of pasta dishes and native Ethiopian cui- white tourists pedaling bicycles laden with sine, and the local beer was a pleasant lager- panniers is not a common sight in Asmara like beverage costing fifteen cents a bottle. or, doubtless, other African cities. But at With only a twenty-one–mile day least here bicycles are common transporta- ahead, we took the opportunity to tour the tion. We passed dozens of children and hill above town containing a scrap yard of adults riding stout black Chinese-made old tanks, remnants of the long war fought Flying Pigeon bikes. by Eritrea to gain independence from As we hit the road, we often waved and Ethiopia. The long war finally ended in traded many a friendly salem. This was the 1991, a year after the collapse of the Soviet pattern throughout the tour as we chanced Union dried up the weapons which fueled upon farmers in fields or children walking or the Ethiopian military. It turned out to be riding to school. (We noticed that only boys Africa’s longest civil war, lasting some thirty tended to have bikes. The girls walked to years. Eritrea became fully independent two Ethiopian mountain roads are not designed for skinny tires. Better to use a mountain bike or a donkey. 20 ADVENTURE CYCLIST MAY 2005 ADVENTURECYCLING.ORG ADVENTURE CYCLIST MAY 2005 ADVENTURECYCLING.ORG 21 black flies, and cobbled road surfaces and conditioning and flushing toilets commensu- steep inclines as causes for cursing. Of rate with its twelve-dollar-a-night charge. course, at three miles per hour, most of Mozer further redeemed himself by tak- your energy has to be directed towards ing us out to a restaurant which specialized in staying upright, but Walt did indulge in fish. It was the best night of the tour, and we some foul epitaphs towards all that irked dined uproariously while bon-homie moved him: flies, ball-bearing-sized rocks, the hill, easily around the table. Never mind that this and children in equal doses. It was the particular meal made me sick for the first hardest part of the trip and, divided into time, or that the Torino Hotel also offered a two days, culminated in crossing a pass roof-top disco with a limited repertoire of where, by providence, a young man was records which played at full volume until selling cactus pears. We devoured twenty 3:00 am, when the streets of Massawa began of the sweet and luscious fruit, only learn- to receive the early glint of day-long sun. ing later that they’re a mild laxative. Our bikes were stashed on a bus roof for Our circular tour included a side-trip the three-hour ride back uphill to the pleas- to the ancient city of Axum, where mono- ant climate of Asmara and it’s Italianate liths known as steles still stand sentinel, architecture. As for the cries of “elian,” well, even as the fortunes of the town itself have that’s a colonial relic, too. It’s a corrupted declined over the succeeding 3,000 years Blowing bubbles. African children enjoy their time with American bicycle tourists. form of Italian and, of course, the earliest since the Queen of Sheba ruled. This area bicyclists in Eritrea were Italians. is where the legendary Covenant of the cies that had generously funded the most depressing place on the whole tour, For more information about Bicycle Ark is reputedly kept. repaving project for the road, which was with men sleeping on outdoor cots. We Africa, visit http://ibike.org/ibike/index.htm We were shown through the city’s black, firm, and as smooth as a river peb- stewed in the heat a little longer as Mozer or call (206) 767-0848.

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