In the morning we were to leave for Somaliland we headed to the internet shop in the European Quarter. On the way we saw lots of students in the middle of the road and they were shouting and waving their arms in the air. We wondered if they were celebrating the resignation of Mubarak. Further on we saw a huge group of students in the square surrounded by police carrying shields, in full riot gear. We scooted around the group just in case it all turned nasty.
When we returned to the hotel, everyone had gone and torn up bits of paper were the only sign that something had happened there. We asked Mohammed, the hotel receptionist, what was going on. He told us that they were university students and they had just got their latest exam results. He also told us that only 10% pass and so those that didn't, were protesting.
Our guidebook showed us where to get a 4x4, the only public transport, to Somaliland. Mohamed phoned the 4x4 owner to book us a 'good seat' because they put 2 or 3 people in the front by the driver, then four people in the seat behind the cab, then six on the two side seats in the back. He assured us our good seat was the seat with only four people on it. A taxi picked us up from the hotel and took us to the street where we could see the 4x4 s, all easily identifiable by their dual number plates- Djibouti and Somaliland. There were about 13 of them waiting for passengers. There was no station or building for us to wait in and a spare parts shop owner gave us a couple of white plastic seats to sit on, in the shade, in front of his shop and not far from the local public toilets, where, every now and then we got a whiff of the sewer smells.
We had to wait about three hours and watched the goings on in the street around us, and chatted with anyone who wanted to practice their broken English on us. In this time the qat, arrived from Ethiopia and the locals spread out cardboard onto the footpath and sat to chew their 'cud'. In no time at all, a steady stream of local kids came along to pick up the discarded twigs and tough leaves that the chewers had left. Some kids had huge bags full and would chew some themselves and probably sell some to get money.
A lady had a tea stall set up on the median strip in the middle of the road and used the abandoned truck to provide anchorage for her umbrella.
At one point the shop owner ordered us into his shop. Lots of boys were throwing stones in a stone fight between a gang from Section 2 and Section 5 area. Lots of police vehicles arrived to chase them off as well as the riot police we had seen earlier. Luckily the shop owner shut his steel doors and window shutters as some of the stones ended up hitting his shop. In that time the stall holders on the street and shop owners shut up shop and went home. As fast as it had started it stopped and life was quiet on the streets.
At about 5 pm all the passenegers arrived for the 4x4 and all the gear was piled on the roof. We shared our good seat with an elderly man, a young plump Muslim woman who sat neat to me and then John by the door and half of his seat was the unpadded wheel arch. There was no room to move our feet as the space under the front seats was jammed packed with spare parts in case the vehicle broke down. The 4x4 left at night to avoid driving in the heat of the day through the scrubby desert.
Outside Djibouti city, on the way to the border, we passed through an area that looked like a rubbish dump. There were plastic bags and plastic bottles everywhere, as well as dead cars and electronic appliances carcasses. At the border we exited the Djibouti immigration post and were surprised that they processed everything on paper. A short stop away we went through Somaliland immigration where they had passport scanners and processed us electronically. We did however have to unload all our gear and have it checked although they were not interested in our packs. All the 4x4s had to get to the border before it closed and so they all left at 5pm and the baggage checkers were working up a frantic sweat getting through all the luggage.
There was an area, on the Somaliland side of the border, where they reduced the air pressure in the tyres to travel on the sand, and used an air hose to clean the air filter, and even carry out any last minute welding repairs if needed. This young man on our roof, checked the oil and water, dusted the windscreen and kept an eye on the gear on the roof. He spent the whole journey on the roof rack wrapped up in his ski jacket as it was pretty cold.
We stopped in a village for a meal. They had generators to supply lighting and run the TV. The toilet was anywhere in the desert. The boys in the back took their shoes off and ate their food on the mat that was put in the sand. The one dish supplied was spaghetti and meat sauce, which was eaten with their hands. As soon as the diners left the mat the family sheep moved into drink the tea left in the cups or to scavenge any food left. We ate French cheese, mustard mayonnaise, and tomato bread rolls that we had prepared.
We managed to doze on and off during the night, and about 3.30am we stopped at a small village. Although the driver ate bundles and bundles of qat, and smoked two packets of cigarettes, drank bottles of coke, he couldn't stay awake any longer. The locals spread themselves around on platforms in the front of a house and we were given two beds in a huge room to sleep on. The bed was a frame without a mattress and we slept on a thin fibre mat with a rock hard pillow stuffed with hay stalks. The room had painted mud brick walls and a roof of branches, grass, leaves, plastic bags, old refrigerator parts, tin cans, and bits of old clothing. The ceiling was lined with a huge sheet of plastic with the UNHRC logo all over it. As soon as we heard the mosquitos, we plastered ourselves with repellent and had a short but deep sleep till 7am.
In the morning it was great to be able to see the landscape. We also caught a glimpse of some long-necked antelopes, dik diks, a couple of troops of baboons, several camels, and a desert fox as well as a few birds. That was a whole lot more wildlife than we ever saw in Ethiopia.
We knew we were approaching Hargeisa as soon as we saw the piles of rubbish increasing.
