Getting Out of Bahir Dar

Our departure from Bahir Dar to Lalibela was an early one. After our trip to the Blue Nile Falls the previous day, the bellhop’s friend was waiting for us in the lobby of our hotel. It turns out that he was also arranging the bus for the annoying guys from Addis (to know what I am talking about, read our Bahir Dar blog post). He told us all to meet him in the lobby at 5am, ready to go. The guys from Addis made a point to repeat this to us like we were children, indicating that they did not trust us to be taking this seriously. 

When we showed up the following morning, the Addis guys were in the lobby freaking out that the bellhop’s friend had not shown up yet. By 4:59am he was still not answering his phone. Where was the bellhop when you actually wanted his help? They flagged down a tuk-tuk and said they were going to the new bus station. It did not seem to matter to them if Jon and I were getting screwed over and they took off as though we were competing in the Amazing Race. 

We didn’t follow them since we knew buses to Lalibela only ran from the old bus station. I had tried to tell them this, but they would not listen. Deep down I knew that the bellhop’s friend would eventually show up, no one passes up on a chance to make money in Ethiopia, but Team Addis had gotten us nervous. According to the travel guide, the bus was leaving at 5am and it was a few minutes past. We decided to head for the old bus station and try our chances there.

After just one minute of walking, someone emerged from a dark alley and yelled “Lalibela” at us. He waved us over and led us down a few dark streets to a nice bus. I asked the price and he said 150 Birr. I was surprised since that was what I had read the actual price was. Normally tough negotiations would be involved. 

It was soon obvious that everyone with a vehicle was cashing in on the Christmas rush for Lalibela and dozens of vehicles were circling Bahir Dar picking people up. All of our stresses over getting a seat on the one daily bus had been for nothing.  If anyone wanted to go to Lalibela, someone was going to take them. Luckily we were the second people on the bus and got good seats. By that I mean actual seats with window control and not an upside-down bucket in the aisle.

Someone came onto the bus and told us we needed to get on their SUV for 600 Birr each. The tout who had taken us to the bus agreed and told us to get off, keen to make a bigger commission off finding one of the few ferangies (white people) in town. We refused to move and were relieved when the other woman on the bus scolded the men and convinced them to back off.

Eventually, a tuk-tuk pulled up and Team Addis got out and boarded our bus. They were shocked to see us, asking how WE had managed to find a bus. Eventually, they admitted to spending way too much money on multiple tuk-tuks pointlessly driving them around until they ended up with us, two blocks from the hotel. It is actually nice to know it is not just the foreigners who get taken advantage of.

20 minutes after driving out of town the fare collection began. We handed them 300 Birr for the two of us, but they insisted on another 300. We said that the price was 150 and they got quite mad. When we continued to protest, the bus driver turned on the lights and started to pull over in the middle of nowhere.  They were serious. The women on the bus confirmed for us the price was in fact 300 Birr each. The tout had lied to us to get us onto one of his buses. There was nothing we could do, so we coughed it up. 

Welcome to Lalibela

The trip took 9 hours and we arrived during the height of Lalibela’s blistering afternoon heat. Loud music was blaring and everyone was out and about.  We checked google maps and walked in the direction of our homestay Jegoley’s Famly Eco Camp, or where we thought it was. The google maps location was incorrect! A guy,  introducing himself as Habte, asked us what we were looking for. We explained we could not find our place and when I showed a picture of our host Abraham, (this just happened to be the profile picture of his booking.com listing) Habte said he knew the guy from high school and would help us. He called the number I gave him and handed me the phone. Abraham answered and told me his place was 6km from town!

I was too hot and tired to process the information and told him I would call him back. Now more touts descended on us, saying they could get us a room for $75US, then $35US for a camping spot. They started fighting over who got to us first. Habte handed me his phone again, Abraham had called back saying he would pay for a tuk-tuk to pick us up. 

We told the touts we were being picked up, but they said that no tuk-tuk would come for us. At one point our driver did approach us, but we did not know it was him. The touts, even Habte, sent him away claiming he was no one. Habte had realized he could get a cut from the others by convincing us to stay somewhere expensive. I called Abraham again using WhatsApp, but could barely make out what he was saying over all the commotion. Finally, I picked out the name of a location we needed to head for. The touts continued to say he was lying, that tuk-tuk drivers were all on holiday.

We found the spot and there was our driver waiting with a Bob Marley Tuk-Tuk. Habte jumped in the front seat. We did not know why he was coming with us, but were too tired to care and loaded our bags. The drive was long up a winding road. Soon we realized we were heading up a mountain. Eventually, the tuk-tuk pulled over and we were told we would need to walk the rest of the way. Where on earth were we going?? After 5 minutes of following Habte and the tuk-tuk driver through a Eucalyptus forest, we arrived at a village sitting at the edge of a plateau. Abraham greeted us. 

You can’t stay at rock bottom while on a mountain top.

I felt bad for Abraham as Jon and I were mentally and physically at rock bottom. Luckily, Abraham could recognize the state we were in. He generously offered to let us stay in one of his eco-huts for the night for the same price as tenting, but we were determined to use our new tent.  We set it up and retreated inside, thankful for the cooler mountain temperature and tried to make sense of what had just happened and our situation for the next few days.  

Being so far away from town meant a $5 tuk-tuk ride each time we wanted to come or go from our place, but the price of tenting at Abraham’s was only $10 a night, a fraction of what a night in Lalibela would cost during Christmas. We emerged from the tent and stood at the edge of the plateau. The view was breathtaking and made us feel as though we were back in the Simiens. The town looked so far away, but the sounds of chanting and drums still reached our ears. We began to realize that we had found ourselves in the perfect place to stay during the craziness and intensity of Christmas. Not too hot and a peaceful refuge from the craziness happening below.

Abraham was patiently waiting for us. I am sure we came off as wild animals that needed to be approached with patience and caution. He was going to let us come to him on our own terms. Habte and the tuk-tuk driver were still there too. Habte was not as wise as Abraham and immediately approached us to organize activities for the next day. I said I couldn’t think about it so he made me take his WhatsApp number. Then he made me text him so he would have mine. This proved to be a big mistake over the following week.

At first, he texted about meeting in town so he could show us around. When I continued to ignore his texts the declarations of love started. Even after I claimed my husband (almost the truth) was pissed (the truth), he continued until I blocked him. Content to have my number, Habte and the tuk-tuk driver left. Abraham told us he had never met Habte before and he had only come up with us to demand money for bringing Abraham clients. We were happy to hear that Abraham had refused, especially after we explained that he tried to keep us in town with the other touts.

Abraham knew exactly what we needed at that moment and walked us to an amazing sunset spot on the other side of the plateau. He pointed out the footpath that led straight to town and offered to walk us down in the morning. When the sun had set, our dinner was ready. Both relaxed and full, we tucked ourselves in for the night, lulled to sleep by the beat of the drums.