Exit Windhoek enter Addis Ababa...

*** Bakc in rainy and storm-ravaged BC, will continue posts and should have some pictures later in the week. ***

Day 24 Oct. 30

I'm sitting outside Windhoek international waiting to check into my flight and reflecting on my time in Namibia.

I went for a sun-downer with 2 British tourists and Mack, a black fellow of about my age who works at the resort. As we sat and watched the sun go down in a cloudless sky, Mack sang the Namibian anthem for us and said he was proud to be a Namibian. Reflecting, I remarked that Namibia is similar to Canada in the respect that the two are countries of shifting landscapes. The main difference is that in Namibia you can drive through four or five of these uniquely different landscapes in the space of a day whereas in Canada many more days are required.

My favorite landscape in Namibia would have to be Sesriem and the Sossusvlei. Sitting on the pink dunes of the Namib expanse and watching the sun's rays bring out the iron-red of the mountains and the radiant yellow of the grass plains and the deep green of the Camel Thorn trees was spectacular.

Also, the juxtaposition of the curved dead trees, the grasslands and the huge salmon-coloured dunes rising behind was quite striking and made for good photography.

Learning of the Bushman culture has stirrred me to learn more and one day visit the Kalahari desert.

The landscape around Sesriem and Sossusvlei screamed Africa to me and was unfortgettable.

My experiences in Etosha highlighted the otherworldliness of this place. Watching the African giants lumber about or group silently at the waterhole was amazing. It was a grand time I had in this country and hiking in the Tsaris canyons gave me more time to appreciate its hidden beauty. Now it's off to Ethiopia for Halloween.

Day 25 Oct. 31

I slept on the flight to Nairobi and I slept most of the way into Addis Ababa. Coming into the airport was amazing. Gone were the dry colours of Namibia, they were replaced with a broken and slivered chessboard of lush green farmers' fields. Olive, hunter, and saphire green fields as far as the eye could see. The city was hemmed in by completely foliated dark green mountains.

I changed my money at the airport and was ushered to a cab by a helpful man. Tipping was the norm.

You can feel this country's poverty from the start. As my cabbie drove through gridlocked streets my cab was approached by all ages of beggars: an old woman, a young woman with baby on back, and childreen selling kleenex.

The city as I have seen it is a hodge-podge of low rises, giant squares, and dillapidated shack stores that are the same in description as the ones in the Cape Town township tour.

This is the sub-Saharan Africa I came to see. The poverty is everywhere but so is the heart and the otherworldly beauty I've yet to fully come to understand yet appreciate a great deal.

I was a bit overwhelmed so I'm hiding in my hotel room at the old and basic but comfortable Itegue Taitu hotel.

I get the feeling that I'm one of very few tourists in this city.

Day 26 Nov. 1

I ended up sleeping off jet-lag and not exploring last night. Early this morning Shehebo Halil, my cab driver from the airport, showed up to take me to the Mercato (reputed to be the largest open-air market in Africa).

We drove straight into the madness and Shehebo offered his services as a guide. Donkeys laden with produce, herds of goats, lines of cars, and a roiling mass of people all shared the main thoroughfares of the market.

The ground was mud in some places and wet cobble-stone in others. We walked the narrow alleyways of the market through the used materials section where plastic containers, bits of metal, bits of leather, and rubber were all transformed from their prior uses into some new thing of use.

I didn't find the market intimidating by my guide advised me to keep a good hold of my camera.

In the cramped passageways of the marlet we brushed by men, women, and children all going about their business. We travelled through the woven district, the metalworks district (where nothing was heard save the clanking of hammers), and the leatherworks area. We also visited areas with sacks of coffee beans, spices, and garlic. At one point I was offered hashish.

It was an exhiliarating experience and in the cramped but alive alleyways and streets I got a taste of true sub-Saharan African daily life.

Tomorrow Shehebo is picking me up to take me to the mini-bus that goes to Bahir Dar.