River Shaya Walk

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For the second consecutive Saturday, Hannah and I had intended to visit the Bale Mountains National Park HQ at Dinsho … but failed to get a bus. There was an Addaba-Dodola bus that we could have got to drop us off in Dinsho, but because we are Farenji, and the assumption is therefore that we are rich tourists, they told us that the fare is 20 birr. I happen to know that that is the price of a ticket to Addaba, and that to Dinsho, the fare is 10 birr. I was loathe to pay the inflated price as, being volunteers we are paid a similar wage to Ethiopian colleagues (in fact less than many of my colleagues!) and would be doing no favours for tourists, especially independent backpacker types, if we paid the inflated price.

In the end, we gave up - having got one of Hannah’s colleagues to talk to the bus guys and having tried to get a ride in a private car or truck going to Dinsho - although apparently, nobody was leaving the town of Robe on this fine day.

Plan B, as the rains have finally stopped and there was not a cloud in the sky, was to walk through Hora Boka to the Shaya River, a feature I had managed to miss on previous visits to the village. Once through Hora Boka, a long drawn out village with a very muddy main road, we dropped down to the river. How could I have missed it? We sat for a while and watched the comings and goings of a crossing point, before heading left along the river bank, stepping around colourful washing drying on the banks.

At a turn in the river, a waterfall provided a fitting backdrop for lunch - inevitably watched by some children. It is amazing how, wherever you walk, it is impossible to totally escape people! The nice thing in this area, though, is how little hassle you get, compared to some other places I have been in Ethiopia. We walked further along the river, and then used our finely honed senses of direction and bush craft skills (and a lot of luck) found our way back up towards the Robe-Goba road, via a pond teaming with bird life, and through the back streets of Hora Boka to approach Robe prison (a good landmark, along with a radio mast) from a slightly different direction.

Hannah lost her boot in the mud as we came back into Robe, much to the amusement of the woman watching us from her gate - the same woman who, as we were leaving Robe, had directed us around the worst of the mud, i.e. the part where Hannah got stuck.

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Photos

Hora Boka main road
A lot less muddy than last time I was here.