The alarm went off at 5:30 and as the sun was still working its way up from below the horizon, we stayed in bed a few more minutes. With the first rays we got up and quickly packed the car. The hotel was mostly asleep as we drove out of the gate. The 40 km to the border on dirt road was a wonderful drive with the grass huts lit by the morning sun. Incredible to think that people can live under these circumstances.
Ogf ggbsfokoef dgese5rtwc455gpikt..,76nut,tu (Eowyn took over the computer and wanted to say a few words as well).
Arriving at the border we found the immigration office pretty easily and with some charming looks from Eowyn, we were out again. Ethiopia done. We drove around the town to finish the last Ethiopian Birr and spent it on a tea and dry bread breakfast.
Across the bridge and we were in Sudan. Exciting. We started in the immigration office. Presented the passports, answered some questions and we were handed some forms to fill in. We filled in and returned to the officer. He then had to transcribe this info into another form which took so long that it ran into the tea break and he stopped the transcription to take tea with his colleagues. We wait… Then someone came up to say that we needed to pay 130 Sudan Pounds per passport (approximately 70 USD pp) for the ‘central registration’. Julia new that this procedure was best done at the border as this could take us days in Khartoum. We therefore eagerly agreed to pay the registration fees in USD.... Not possible. A bank maybe? Yes, but 150 kilometers away in the next town!
After some negotiations, Stanley agreed to go with a local guy to a shop to exchange some money. However, at both the first and the second shop the shop owner refused to change saying: ”not here”. Stanley returned to the immigration office without success. Some officials said we could change at the black market on the other side of the border (Ethiopia) while some other uniformed officers basically said all this was not allowed. A strange situation occurred in Arabic between the officials resulting in the uniforms walking off. We guessed that the black market deal was on. Meanwhile Julia started with the customs papers. She walked into the customs house and was greeted in unison by 10 men “good morning!” all smiling. “We’re having breakfast! You’ll have to wait!” the chorus sang out. They were divided 5 and 5 each group eating with their hands off a huge metal plate filled with bread and 3-4 bowls of stews. More men came in to join them before all the bowls were empty. Everyone washed up and business resumed. Customs was straightforward and only delayed because they needed to see the passports which were with Stanley back at immigration. Forty-five minutes went by, with the uniformed officials refusing to sit next to or talk to Stanley. Finally, the middleman came back with the cash. The exchange was done out of sight and the money immediately hidden in the cuff of his pants. Great, now we only needed to give the money to the uniformed officers for the official registration papers: 20 minutes, but no problems. We all left the immigration office smiling and greeting each other. Finalization of the customs was easy from here on and soon we were back on the road to Gedaref. Remarkably, the Sudanese kept their part of the agreement to build a tarmac road from Port Sudan to Addis Ababa and we were cruising to Gederef in 2 hours.
In Gederef we saw a new Africa with lively suqs and street life. Julia’s Indian outfit with all but the head covered (Thank you Mrs Mandaliya) was a useful attribute. Because it is so hot, hot, hot things are pretty quiet in Gederef until 4-5pm. We found a hotel with big spacious rooms opening onto a central terrace complete with fans (although no water – you can’t have it all…). After unloading we went around the corner to get some food. This luncheon place had HUGE pots of mystery food and Niels and Julia pointed at some things and were just given others in small bowls all loaded onto a big metal tray and served with fresh rounds of bread. We finished at 4 and it was still too hot to be wandering around. We took a siesta until around 6pm when town seemed to be waking up again. Just behind the hotel we stumbled on the milk market. There were men sitting in plastic chairs in the square with their stashes of milk. Milk was being decanted from big metal jugs into just about anything (plastic buckets, empty water and soda bottles, tin cups) with funnels and sieves. Moving on from there we passed small coffee shops, clothing sellers, butchers, nuts, candy, and beautiful fruit and vegetables. The drive from the border was so hot and dry it was surprising to arrive here and see stacks of watermelons, oranges, bananas, tomatoes, greens, egg plants, etc being sold in the street stalls but maybe that is what that beautiful tarmac road is bringing them.
Ogf ggbsfokoef dgese5rtwc455gpikt..,76nut,tu (Eowyn took over the computer and wanted to say a few words as well).
Arriving at the border we found the immigration office pretty easily and with some charming looks from Eowyn, we were out again. Ethiopia done. We drove around the town to finish the last Ethiopian Birr and spent it on a tea and dry bread breakfast.
Across the bridge and we were in Sudan. Exciting. We started in the immigration office. Presented the passports, answered some questions and we were handed some forms to fill in. We filled in and returned to the officer. He then had to transcribe this info into another form which took so long that it ran into the tea break and he stopped the transcription to take tea with his colleagues. We wait… Then someone came up to say that we needed to pay 130 Sudan Pounds per passport (approximately 70 USD pp) for the ‘central registration’. Julia new that this procedure was best done at the border as this could take us days in Khartoum. We therefore eagerly agreed to pay the registration fees in USD.... Not possible. A bank maybe? Yes, but 150 kilometers away in the next town!
After some negotiations, Stanley agreed to go with a local guy to a shop to exchange some money. However, at both the first and the second shop the shop owner refused to change saying: ”not here”. Stanley returned to the immigration office without success. Some officials said we could change at the black market on the other side of the border (Ethiopia) while some other uniformed officers basically said all this was not allowed. A strange situation occurred in Arabic between the officials resulting in the uniforms walking off. We guessed that the black market deal was on. Meanwhile Julia started with the customs papers. She walked into the customs house and was greeted in unison by 10 men “good morning!” all smiling. “We’re having breakfast! You’ll have to wait!” the chorus sang out. They were divided 5 and 5 each group eating with their hands off a huge metal plate filled with bread and 3-4 bowls of stews. More men came in to join them before all the bowls were empty. Everyone washed up and business resumed. Customs was straightforward and only delayed because they needed to see the passports which were with Stanley back at immigration. Forty-five minutes went by, with the uniformed officials refusing to sit next to or talk to Stanley. Finally, the middleman came back with the cash. The exchange was done out of sight and the money immediately hidden in the cuff of his pants. Great, now we only needed to give the money to the uniformed officers for the official registration papers: 20 minutes, but no problems. We all left the immigration office smiling and greeting each other. Finalization of the customs was easy from here on and soon we were back on the road to Gedaref. Remarkably, the Sudanese kept their part of the agreement to build a tarmac road from Port Sudan to Addis Ababa and we were cruising to Gederef in 2 hours.
In Gederef we saw a new Africa with lively suqs and street life. Julia’s Indian outfit with all but the head covered (Thank you Mrs Mandaliya) was a useful attribute. Because it is so hot, hot, hot things are pretty quiet in Gederef until 4-5pm. We found a hotel with big spacious rooms opening onto a central terrace complete with fans (although no water – you can’t have it all…). After unloading we went around the corner to get some food. This luncheon place had HUGE pots of mystery food and Niels and Julia pointed at some things and were just given others in small bowls all loaded onto a big metal tray and served with fresh rounds of bread. We finished at 4 and it was still too hot to be wandering around. We took a siesta until around 6pm when town seemed to be waking up again. Just behind the hotel we stumbled on the milk market. There were men sitting in plastic chairs in the square with their stashes of milk. Milk was being decanted from big metal jugs into just about anything (plastic buckets, empty water and soda bottles, tin cups) with funnels and sieves. Moving on from there we passed small coffee shops, clothing sellers, butchers, nuts, candy, and beautiful fruit and vegetables. The drive from the border was so hot and dry it was surprising to arrive here and see stacks of watermelons, oranges, bananas, tomatoes, greens, egg plants, etc being sold in the street stalls but maybe that is what that beautiful tarmac road is bringing them.
