The border to Ethiopia closed 15 minutes before we arrived.
The touts warned us. They suggested booking a hotel. We ignored them because— hey— they’re lying touts.
After walking the full-click there and back, we returned to the town square. Defeated.
So, booking a hotel? There was only one option: the Sharif. Clean rooms with insect nets for half what we paid in Nairobi.
That night, we explored and looked food. The local prison had a canteen serving decent ugali and beer. And our dinner conversation was enlivened by a Rastafarian explaining “mind, intellect and resolve.”
We were exhausted from our journey. But, our spirits were high! How could they not be? The hills of Ethiopia were right there!
Little did we know that we wouldn’t cross for a week. And, in less than 48 hours, we’d be back in a truck returning to Nairobi.
