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Published: December 25th 2010
It's Christmas Eve (although not for the Orthodox locals who won't celebrate for another two weeks).
I spent this morning walking around seventeenth century castles, remnants of anther age, their round turrets and pointed battlements looking like they should belong in Morocco or Spain not sub-Saharan Africa.
For lunch, I had a sour brown pancake topped with various spicy stews, washed down with some thick rich coffee, whilst sat in an Italian built Art Deco cafe, while pictures of Selassie stared down at me from the walls.
The afternoon was spent in a sixteenth century church, decorated with a rich tapestry of paintings of saints, angels, devils, and the Virgin Mary. A turbaned priest, robed in white, with a large gold cross hanging from his neck, sat in the corner watching the world go by, and smiling for the obligatory photos as the tourists and their zoom lenses file past.
And now, I'm sat in flip-flops at the Goha Hotel, overlooking the town of Gonder far below, as vultures and red kites circle above, and the highlands of Ethiopia, resembling a scene from Lord of the Rings, rise and fall into the distance.
It could only
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