Now back in Nairobi, after a two-week bonding session with my brother, it was time to kick back into planning mode for a few days till Shea arrived. Ethiopia was the next country on our hit-list and their website confirmed we would get a visa on arrival. Perfect. Unfortunately, we had overlooked the fine print. The “visa on arrival” perk only applies for entry by plane. Overland travelers need to apply in advance in their home countries. Crap! Luckily, there was an alternative process involving the Ethiopian Embassy in Nairobi, a letter from the South African / US embassy and the signature of the Ethiopian Ambassador. It all sounded easy enough.
Around this time, I met fellow vagabonds Polo, a Spaniard who had been travelling the world for over two years, and Will, an Englishman doing a circumnavigation of Africa. They were in a similar situation to myself, hoping to get an Ethiopian visa to complete their travels. The three of us made a daily pilgrimage over the next week and a half to the Ethiopian Ambassador’s pad hoping for a glimpse of his holy face. Each day we were told he was not around but would be returning within two weeks. Eventually we gave up and I switched to plan B, sending my passport back to South Africa via DHL*.
All the while, Shea was having similar problems trying to organize his Ethiopian Visa from Dubai. After a bit of brainstorming we concluded that the most efficient solution was for Shea to fly into Addis Ababa, cash in a “visa on arrival” and bus south to meet me near the border. I would put on my big boy pants and drive through Northern Kenya alone once my passport arrived back.
In the interim, I moved in with Calden and Bridget, fellow South Africans, who were willing to give shelter to a dirty vagabond like myself while my passport jet set around the continent. The little green book made it safely into the hands of a visa agent in South Africa. It was basted with a beautiful Ethiopian visa and handed back to the friendly DHL deliveryman to escort back to Nairobi. And that is where everything started to unravel:
After the mad dash for my passport, I was finally ready to head north for a stopover at Marsabit Nature Reserve, before meeting up with Shea in Ethiopia. When I finally reached him in the tiny town of Awassa, his first words to me, after a month of separation: “Why is bubbles so dirty?” Priorities…
* Dear DHL. Please notice this lovely piece of free advertising. If you would like to compensate me with money or free things please feel free to do so. Much love. Ross.
Joburg to Scotland 