I write to you now sitting in a beautifully air conditioned hotel room. Upstairs with a view overlooking the Nile, the pool laps against the sides in the 47 degree heat. But let me back track to how I got here.

From Addis Ababa we headed to the famed rock hewn churches of Lalibela. It was a tough 2 day drive but we had done our homework and smugly knew which roads should be taken. Even so our recommended ‘short cut’ became a 6 hour windy, bumpy, 30kph ordeal even with some fabulous views from our 3500m height. It was only when driving away from the churches two days later that we decided to brave the famed awful road that we discovered it was a one and a half hour fairly smooth mountain pass. We felt a little silly.

The churches themselves were quite remarkable. Unlike at Petra they are carved down into the rock but so that they are completely free from it.  It is amazing to wander at how this feat was achieved almost a millennia ago when today the Ethiopians seemed largely to sleep, eat and hound tourists. The answer apparently was simple – the angels helped. Hard to disagree. I was especially pleased to see that Bet Georgis (House of St George) was the largest and most impressive of the churches. It is carved into the shape of the cross and rears from deep in the ground – great for photos.

The 11 churches are connected in various groups by a series of tunnels and entrances. In some it is a necessary ritual to battle the evils in pitch darkness, others lead round corners and through arches that all look similar till you are completely bewildered by where you have ended up. That morning we had been woken at dawn not by the usual sound of a mosque calling prayer time but by the sounds of chanting accompanying a steady beat. It was with delight that we finally arrived at Bet Emanuel and found that the source of the chanting resulted from the fact that it was Emanuel’s saint day. The hum of the voices mingled with the incense and the drums and made the church seem quite magical. 

But enough about Ethiopia. Whilst a country blessed with numerous World Heritage Sites, great Italian cooking and wonderful coffee beans, it is also an extremely tough place to travel happily.

Now Sudan on the other hand….

I loved Sudan. It is so different from all the other African countries that we have visited. The people are possibly the most generous we have come across, (even the police let us camp outside their station in one town), the food is delicious and there is a general atmosphere of getting through the day through relaxation.

The highlight of our week in Sudan was the Whirling Dervishes. This group has been mentioned in virtually every Africa travel book that I have read, not to mention Dad’s Army and it was a spectacle that I was not going to miss.

We arrived at the Nil El Hamid Mosque at half four and found a mosque, a crowd of people dancing to the beating of drums and scores and scores of tea ladies. Even with my head, shoulders and legs covered I was still feeling a little conspicuous so it was relieving to be able to site with a cup of highly sweetened ‘shai’ while we watched the events unfurl before us, if in some slight confusion.

It was only after 2 cups of tea and one of coffee when we were heading back to the car for some water that we were informed the main ceremony had not even begun. Within minutes of us returning from the car a huge circle of several hundred people had formed around a few central men who sang/chanted, beat drums and danced. One excitable youth even repeatedly bit the palms of his hands. A large man with dread locks wearing a green robe walked the inner circle whipping people into a more circular shape and ordering them to sing by singing the initial line of the chant right in their face. Before our eyes the entire circle began to move, swaying backwards and forwards accompanied by arm swinging and whole hearted singing. Children stood in small lines in the middle in a manner that was strangely reminiscent of Covent Garden, mimicking the men.

There were more men with dreadlocks dressed in leopard print robes, some armed with fake AK47s to represent themselves as part of the army of the Sufis. A man next to me explained that the men with whips are the ‘keepers of the ring’ just as we were beaten back to make way for more green and red clad men who danced and sang energetically back and forth directly in front of us. Incense was wafted around the circle and we were invited to take great deep breaths of it. Then in the centre of the circle the drums took on a slow and steady beat and the singing became restrained. Slowly the beat swelled and hastened till the circle became a frenzy of movement, the singing crescendoing urgently and at this point, right in the centre the green robed men whirled in abandon.

It was a truly amazing experience and I found myself becoming totally caught up in the whole experience, bobbing along with the old lady next to me in spite of myself. The only thing preventing a more energetic dance was the fact that I was pinned between Rob and the green clad men.

Sweaty by exhilarated we finally retreated from the circle and were invited to sit on a low stool at yet another tea lady. This lady was frying fresh doughnut type things which tasted fantastic. Ahmed our new acquaintance refused to let us pay for them adding to the feeling of content.

The rest of our time in Sudan has flown by. We managed to get an oil change done at the Toyota Garage (no jokes please), we found the most wonderful café in Khartoum. It is a place called The Zone and is set on a flower covered roundabout in the middle of the city. Not only was the coffee and cheesecake divine but each table is surrounded by a serious of pipes at head and foot level that ‘mist’ water sprays over you to keep you cool. In the 44 degree heat it was heavenly and a tough call to tear ourselves away from the place.

From Khartoum we headed to the pyramids at Begrawiya. They were rather smaller than I had imagined but fun to play on all the same. Three nights of desert bush camping, an exploration of the temples and pyramids at Jebel Barkel, lots of beans and traditional stews with bread later and we were at Wadi Halfa waiting for the ferry to Egypt.

This ferry is another thing that is written about in even Africa travel book and the accounts are usually no where near complementary. We were amazingly surprised. Mr Mazir, the booking agent made it all so easy for us. He took our documents and money and set out at 6AM to sort out customs while we sheltered from the sun in his garden with his sisters serving us tea and apples! Having arrived so late in Wadi Halfa there was no chance of a first class ticket so we travelled as all the Sudanese do and after scoffing our free meal, slept under the stars on deck next to the Captain’s box. Sleepy and craving coffee I was heaved to my feet the next morning to witness one of the most spectacular sun rise’s I have ever seen.

It was a good thing that Rob and I have already accepted the mentality of in’shallah (very similar to manyana manyana), as though we docked at mid day we weren’t actually allowed to disembark till 4PM.

So now I sit in my hotel room in Aswan, writing to you all while Rob is being chauffeured round this boiling town sorting out customs, traffic police and insurance for Daphne. Touch wood we should make it for the afternoon convoy to Luxor.

The final stretch has begun…see you 5 weeks :)

Georgie