An average morning in Ethiopia

Sunday 6th December 2009
Day 161

I reckon our time in Ethiopia, well Africa in general can be summed up by the events of this morning. '7.30 will be fine' said reception when asking what time we should set off in the airport shuttle to Lalibela airport en route to Addis Abba to ultimately get our evening flight to the UK.

Little did we know a quarter of the way into our journey, the arse would drop out the back of the minibus!

You could tell the minibus wasn't the best, and it wasn't as though we were staying in a crappy hotel. Nevertheless we had no choice but to pile onto this tin can shuttle. The clutch had been burnt out, the suspension was none existent and we were later to find out from a Guatamalen couple on board that this same bus had broken down twice the day before visiting some out of town churches. In fact the Guatamalen guy (a Graphic Designer) had been left to try and fix it and to the joy of everybody on board, he succeeded. However this breakdown needed more than a Guatamalen Graphic Designer. The heavy clunk and subsequent scraping sound suggested a major organ had given up the ghost and dropped out of the vehicle.

There we were stranded in the hills of Lalibela's surrounds, on the side of the road with only a couple of farmers with their hay for company alongside driver and passengers.

We were told a mechanic was on his way but we needed more than a mechanic if we were to catch our flight. We needed a new vehicle and quick. The wait seemed to take forever but eventually the mechanic arrived quite nonchently, in no particular rush and we crammed on board his vehicle and sped off at breakneck speed airport-bound.

Lalibela airport seemed ten times the distance as the way from the airport but we played it cool talkin Seatle and Melbourne with the couple who were now based in the States. Inside we were a trifle panic stricken to say the least.

At last we got to the airport, showed our passports to airport security at the gates before Layla sped in while I grabbed the bags off the roof. An argument about payment for the minibus ensued (which we'd already paid for). I held my ground got our stuff and head in to find Layla still searching for the check in officer. Passengers were well checked-in and the last passengers were boarding the plane witnessed through a thick sheet of glass that separated the terminal to departures lounge.

Still no one in sight meaning no way through Layla made a last ditch attempt running through security and the departures lounge returning with an official in tow kicking and screaming. He was angry and hardnosed and said 'No- you are too late!' He wasn't going to budge even after our sob story. 'You should have left more time,' he said. No flight meant we'd miss our connecting flight to the UK and were pretty much screwed.

There was only one thing for it.....'Pleeeaaase' Ppplllleeeeaaassse let us on the flight' we begged pathetically. Much to our surprise, it seemed to be working. We could sense a change in his expression. A chink in his armour. He actually seemed to like it. We looked at each other in astonishment and continued 'Plleeeaase'. 'GIVE ME YOUR BAGS!' he shouted. We were on.

We rushed our bags through, got onto the already boarded plane and within five minutes of taking our seats we were off. Phew!