Simien Mountains World Heritage Site


Dinner time at Chenek


Chenek camp (we had walked here along the ridge on the skyline the previous day)


Gelada Baboons


Ayeho, the master chef of basic ingredients


Mahbo, the "scout"


Giant Lobelia


Dawn over our tent at Gich campsite




A mountain village


Bemused onlookers

Simien Mountains National Park will stand out for me as one of the amazing non-working experiences of my time in Ethiopia. Memorable features included the scenery, feeling fitter and stronger than expected, camping in the mountains, good company in the form of Gemma, Steve, Shira (Gemma’s sister) and Jen (Shira’s friend), being eaten by fleas, fantastic food and being in an amazing environment.

The dreaded Amoebae behaved themselves and dutifully died in the face of a drug called Tinidazole, which left my mouth with a bitter metallic taste for days afterwards. The six of us shared a minibus for the two hour journey north to the town of Debark, the gateway town for Simien Mountains. The unsurfaced rubble road contributed to the mood of heading off for an adventure. In Debark we were joined by Tadelle, a guide, and Mahbo, a “scout” who has to accompany all visitors. Completing our party were Ayeho, cook, and Mesfinant, cook’s assistant. This was to be a luxury trip where all the cooking was done for us and this turned out to be an absolute treat. During the walk to the first campsite (Sankaber) we were stunned by the views and the hundreds of Baboons which are native to the Simien Mountains. The campsites were good and had enough space to accommodate the other groups of Ferenji tourists. After more than a year here the pit latrines were just part of the charm, and our first experience of Ayeho’s cooking threatened to become the highlight of the whole trip. He used the same ingredients you can get in Gondar but managed to add something special (minestrone soup, pasta with garlic & tomato sauce, steamed spinach with onion and garlic, followed by banana fritters – all prepared from scratch in a thatched hut at the campsite using an open fire and a kerosene stove).

The second day was breathtaking (sometimes literally with altitudes of over 3500m) and ended with Gich campsite, which was for me the best: open and exposed. The unbelievably violent and sudden hailstorm just as we finished pitching our tent was mesmerizing. The heavy rain that followed led to us to spend the evening in a building which could have been a bothy in Scotland. The place filled with wood smoke, but through stinging eyes we managed to enjoy another stunning meal (coleslaw being one of the highlights!) and play cards. The night ended with us watching and clapping as the Ethiopians spontaneously broke into traditional dancing and singing round the fire.

Despite the views the part of the trek that really moved me was Sunday morning as we walked away from Gich towards the final campsite of Chenek. We walked through a grassy high altitude landscape dominated by Giant Lobelia plants. I managed to walk alone behind Tadelle, Gill and Steve, who were several hundred metres in front and the others, several hundred metres behind, and had one of those spiritual moments of pure happiness and complete connection to the landscape. The beauty of walking alone is being able to stop and really hear the small sounds, such as the breeze in the lobelia leaves and the distant cries of birds, that just get lost in the chattering and rustling that people make when walking together. I enjoyed the company of a group, and we had a good laugh in the evenings, but it was the moments of not talking and silently drinking in the landscape that were really special for me.

We spent the final morning exploring around Chenek campsite, accompanied as ever by Mahbo with his Kalashnikov. I doubt he’s ever fired his gun but despite poor English he was a great guide. This guy spends more than 330 days a year walking with groups in the Park and had the uncanny ability to spot a Walya Ibex or Menelik’s Bushbuck (two endemic species of antelope) without binoculars several hundred metres away. He could “tune in” to the landscape and animals in the way only somebody born and brought up there can do.

While we had been walking to Chenek, Ayeho had not only baked a cake using the open fire (a good cake as well) but had covered it in “icing” improvised from mayonnaise mixed with lime juice and sugar.

Ah yes, there were also the fleas and/or bedbugs that invaded our sleeping bags.

The traditional dancing and singing during the last evening by people who really know how to spontaneously enjoy themselves had to be experienced instead of described. The fact that a nearby local complained that we were “disturbing the sheep” simply added to the slightly surreal atmosphere.

After four days of camping without washing (the smells…) the minibus picked us up at Chenek and somehow managed to survive the sort of rubble-surfaced and steep road to Debark that you would only contemplate taking a landrover onto in the UK. After dropping off Tadelle and Mahbo in Debark we made it back to Gondar by Monday evening for the usual post-camping explosion of dirty kit in our house.

Sharing the trip with four other people, two of which we hadn’t even met before, added a whole layer of interest and complexity, and evening entertainment. I feel spiritually lifted and reminded of how much I love the whole mountain experience.