Dodom

Leaving Afrera was surreal. A six-lane tarmac road, the biggest we have seen so far in Ethiopia, is leading to… nowhere, outside town we immediately end up on a gravel road where two cars have difficulty passing each other. Apparently, there is a road planned all the way to Mekele, 300 km away, right through the Danakil Desert. So far this trip has not been as adventurous as we had expected; in two years time, even Danakil can be done by comfortable sedan, and who knows, in a few more years, one can drive a touring car up the Erta Ale volcano!

(1) the six-lane highway out of Afrera, leading to a narrow gravel road immediately outside town

Anyhow, not yet, and for the time being, outside Afrera the real adventure does indeed start. There could be no more desolate landscape than this. We drive through more black basalt, in fact we are driving on top of a lava stream, black stone not unlike asphalt, as far as the eye reaches. You can just imagine this as it originally was, a liquid flow of molten rock, irregular undulating surface, perhaps not unlike waves, which then rapidly cools off, and literally freezes in its liquid form. Big cracks have appeared at the top of the crests, where further cooling has broken up the surface. Occasionally, whitish sand, filling in the irregularities of the surface, and in the distance the a few white dunes. The sand and clay layers have solidified, essentially they have been baked in the hot sun to form a thin crust. So once in a while the shape of a volcano appears at the horizon.

(2, 3) more grave hills, intricate structures carefully built up

(4) and the occasional volcano, one of the more than 30 that occur in this area, most of them less than a million years old (geological infants, as I saw it described somewhere)

As so often in the Danakil, although few and far between, there are small hamlets, small herds of goats fighting for a place in the shade of the only tree within sights; the occasional group of camels – apparently wandering off from the village on their own to find a grazing place, then cross to where they can find water, to return to the village at night, again. We get to Dodom, a somewhat more substantial village, with a school (127 kids between grades 1 to 8: where on earth do they come from?!), some corrugated iron sheds. Further out there is a whole range of huts, built on the black lava surfaces. I am being told that, in July, it rains here, and that the valley then turns green, good pasture for the cattle. But that cannot last long, in this heat, and all those other months of the year the cattle is actually being taken far away. Why come back at all, then, one could ask?

(5) a group of camels, or (6) some cows searching for shade, in the middle of noweher, really

(7, 8) and outside Dodom this collection of huts, built on a solidified lava surface, with the Amaytole volcano in the back

From Dodom we continue, now turning onto an unclear path right across the lava surfaces. Adventure, for sure, the vehicle is bouncing slowly across the rocks, trying to avoid the sharpest corners. Black, black, black, everywhere; come to think of it, this is how the bottom of the ocean must look like. Actually, we are driving across a proto-ocean bottom, I guess. Another volcano dooms in the distance, would that be Erta Ale? Luckily, it isn’t, it would have been quite a walk up, this one, called Amaytole. On the other side, another big volcano, Boreale, can just been seen through the haze. In fact, Erta Ale is a rather small, minuscule volcano, amidst the big boys. Piece of cake, really.

Ascending the volcano is normally done starting early evening, when it is a little – only a little – cooler. Somebody has established a number of round huts at the base, where we can find some shadow, and wait out our time. In the high season this could well be a busy place – well, everything is relative, perhaps 30-40 tourists, plus their entourage. Around the huts, even inside the huts, traces of that high season are well visible. Rubbish in the corners, plastic bottles - especially the broken ones, which have no economic value anymore -, rusty tins, paper. Some of the huts have been used as toilets, disgusting really. How difficult can it be to employ two or three people – from those hefty fees tourists are required to pay - to clear the compound, and burn the rubbish regularly?

(9) the "lodge" at the base of Erta Ale - the table and chairs are our own contribution

(10) our police escort preparing for the ascent, too

Lake Afrera

(you may have noticed, the last few days, that it is just very dificult to produce colourful photographs in this environment, so you'll have to do with mostly brown, black and grey, for a little longer...)

Where we had expected to enter a set of vague desert tracks into the Danakil area, a clearly signposted turn-off from the main Djibouti road points to a new tarmac road all the almost 200 km to Afrera. Progress is unstoppable, that’s clear. The road provides access to the Afrera Lake, a huge expanse of salt water in the middle of nowhere. Well, except that on the edge of the lake another salt works has developed. With the salt works, a village has developed, too, all corrugated iron and bamboo mats, and satellite dishes. We have reached the end of the world several times already, this trip, but here is definitely another one.

(1, 2) salt works at the edge of the lake

(3) and a jetty and hose that transports salt ater into the shallow ponds

(4) of course, there are also birds at the lake edge, but somehow they share in the absence of colour, here

(5, 6, 7) and Afrera, the village, the pits, really, is just as colourless, grey, with very few exceptions

On the way, lunar landscape – if they have volcanoes on the moon. The road goes through never-ending packages of basalt, stack after stack after stack, occasionally interspersed by a dry wadi, or the occasional sandy patch. I have never seen anything like this, for hours on end. At one time we are driving near the centre of a volcano, long ago blown away: what is left are the lava streams, clearly having flowed in a radial pattern away from the core: textbook stuff. Another area is covered by a thin lava package, its surface looking more like torn-up asphalt, something like a huge bombed airfield, or so. Surely, nothing can survive here.

(8, 9) the landscape on the way to the lake, variations in black and grey, including lava surfaces that look like torn-up asphalt

(10) yet, even here you'll find the occasional bird

Wrong, of course. Even in this absolutely deserted landscape small hamlets exist, along the road, the standard round huts, sometimes with a base of rocks. In other places the traces of abandoned villages are evident from the round animal pens of basalt blocks that once contained goats or camels. Some of these villages also have traces of an old school, once built by the government, but not enough of an attraction for villagers to stay. Imagine the capital destruction, building a new school building every few years – many of these villages apparently move every 2 to 5 years, due to lack of rain, or exhaustion of the scarce water sources that, however unbelievable in sounds, still seem to be around here, somewhere.

(11, 12) and even here, there are people living, in the small round huts

To be fair, not everybody survives, and the countryside is dotted with graves. Here they don’t bury the dead, they cover them with rocks, and build a tomb-like structure on top.

(13) burial ground with graves of important people, suggested by the size of the tombs

There are also two more permanent settlements, aptly called “60” and “140”, after the number of kilometers from the main road. In fact “140”,is only 130 km from the main road, thanks to the new tarmac road taking a shorter route than the old gravel road. I have no idea what these people are doing here, apparently they are involved in the usual Afar activities, herding cattle, camels and goats, and perhaps a little trading, too, but how you keep some 5000 people – allegedly the population of “60” – busy here, it beats me.

(14, 15) the settlements "60" and "140" - or the other way around, I cannot remember, and it doesn't make a lot of difference

Anyhow, we ended up in Afrera. And although the village is the pits, really, the camping side on the shores of the lake with the same name is absolutely divine, under a few palm trees, next to a hot spring. Finally, we have hot water again!

(16) sulphur spring at the edge of Lake Afrera, hot water for our camping site!

Dichioto

If Assaita is the end of the world, what must we call Dichioto? Seldom have I seen a more desolate town, consisting of two rows of corrugated-iron buildings – walls and roof, and almost no other building materials used – lining the main Djibouti road. In fact, most of the buildings, a selection of sleazy bars and restaurants, and the occasional very basic hotel, are hardly visible, because truck after truck is parked, on both sides. Yet, some people have taken the trouble to paint their sheds in bright colours, or with flowers, to make it look a little more attractive. They failed, but I do appreciate the effort.

(1, 2) the landscape in the northern Afar region: basalts and more basalts

(3) the police have listed the help of local artists to boost their numbers...

(4, 5, 6) Dichioto is built off corrugated iron houses, nothing else; some take the trouble to paint them, others don't. In most cases it makes no difference, because the view is usually blocked by parked trucks on both sides of the road

Past Dichioto is the so-called Eli Dar salt lake, a flat expanse in between stacks of black lava flows. Well, salt lake it isn’t, in fact there are salt works as far as the eye can see. Water is being pumped from 10 meter deep canals, which seem to refill overnight from surface seepage, into shallow square basins, of perhaps 50x50 meters. This is then being evaporated – no lack of natural heat here! - to leave a flat of loose salt, which is scooped into colourful bags for transport. The potential, in this hottest of hot regions, is enormous, and there are indeed hundreds, if not thousands, of basins, but most are empty, not being used. I am not sure why, lack of water, or lack of man power, or just lack of incentive. Further away, in the Danakil area, salt is being mined in huge blocks, from real salt lakes, which may be difficult to compete against?

(7) the salt works, neat little rectangular basins, and (8, 9) the harvest, packed in colourful bags - the only colour in a vast grey environment

(10, 11) donkey carts and camels remain the preferred means of transport, even though water - fresh water - is not easy to find. camels, however, can tolerate a certain amount of salt in the water

(12) mud cracks, makes for a pretty picture

 (13) the ground is often so hard that people cannot be burried, instead rock graves are built on top of the dead body