Danakil Depression: Journey into Uninhabitable Lands

The Afar region, north-east of Addis Ababa, along the border with Eritrea, is a domain of extremes, holding the hottest, driest and lowest places and the worse roads on the continent. Camels number more than people, or any other living thing. Moges, our driver, took us farther and farther from Mekele and civilization, out into the desert, with altitude dropping, temperature ever increasing, and greenery becoming more and more scarce. We were a group of seven tourists (from the US, Israel, France, Slovakia, Germany, and Mexico), two drivers, and a cook in three kick-ass 4WD vehicles—nine men plus me. The two-day drive to Irta'ale, an active volcano, took us down mountain valleys, across long stretches of desert—flat and lifeless for as far as we could see—and through dust storms in which visibility was less than two feet. We frequently came upon camel caravans, using the same route to carry salt from the mines to Mekele. After the first full day of driving, we slept on cots in the open air. Hot breeze blew over us all night.

camel caravan

coffee (buna) stop

first night

I woke the next morning with a mix of excitement and trepidation; I was apprehensive to venture into Afar region because of a recent attack on foreign tourists at the rim of the volcano by Eritrean groups. Yet, I knew that I could not pass up the trip. We drove many hours with the “road” becoming increasingly treacherous, through more dust storms and then over bumpy volcanic ash as we neared the base of Irta'ale. Soldiers rode on the roof of our car—I do not know how they avoided falling off! We stopped at a camp, enjoyed tea (shy), dinner (erat), and a restful few hours before we began the three-hour hike to the volcano at 6:00pm.

roof-top riders

camels in the dust

hut along the route

rest before hike

dustttttt

  
We hiked over volcanic ash and up toward the steamy summit as darkness descended. At the top, we were welcomed by soldiers that were stationed to provided added security following the terrorist attack a few weeks earlier. The volcano glowed bright orange less than half a kilometer from our new campsite, a cluster of little huts upon the mountain. 

summit camping

security

We walked to the volcano, accompanied by four soldiers, and as we got closer, we we struck by blasts of hot, sulfurous wind. The volcano itself was a sputtering, angry pit that bubbled away with unfathomable energy. We returned to our huts only to wake early in the morning to get another peek of the volcano. 

 

The next day we hiked down and returned to our dusty, trusty cars to visit the brilliant sulfuric acid springs. We walked through a forest of sulfur pillars to a valley of glowing yellow, blue, green, orange and red sulfur deposits. Crystal-like sulfur deposits covered the ground like a coral bed. It felt as if I was on the sea floor, on the Little Mermaid's home turf. Steam and spouts of acid came through holes in the deposits and a bubbling came from underfoot; only the deposits stood between us and the acid boiling under our feet.

sulfuric acid

sprouting acid

 At 116m below sea level, Dallol marks the lowest and hottest place on earth (year-round average temperature of 94 degrees F). Pillars rose up like monuments from the dusty, red earth. 

camels, camels, camels!

Dallol, the lowest point

Not far from the springs, we came to an oil lake. It, too, was boiling. We drove on through shallow water—after not seeing naturally-occurring water for days. On the ground, large pentagons of salt (due to its crystal structure) were drying, the edges curling upward toward the hot sun.  

drying salt

oil lake

Off in the distance, a assembly of camels, donkeys, and salt cutters were working away in the shallow, salt-rich waters. Men cut the salt into clean squares and stacked them to dry further, the camels and donkeys waiting patiently to be loaded and begin again the long walk back to Mekele.

salty "road"

cutting salt

We returned safely to Mekele only to find that flights back to Addis were booked for the next week! I went to the airport, hoping to get on standby and return to Addis to watch the Superbowl the next day (I found a TV in Addis with a channel that planned to broadcast the game). No luck. That afternoon, I went to the bus station to get on a bus that was scheduled to arrive in Addis the next day. Twenty-one people loaded into a thirteen-passenger van, including a deaf woman that appeared to be nearing 100 years old, a screaming baby, and a mentally and physically handicapped man accompanied by two women, each with a arm around him, securing his head from flailing around, and routinely wiping the drool from his face.

About 40 minutes into our 15-25 hour drive, just as I had started to nod off to sleep, wedged with three men into the very back seat of the van, we were pulled over by the police. The driver got out and policeman took the driver's seat and turned the van around, headed back to Mekele. I have learned that “why?” (lemin) is not an appropriate inquiry in Ethiopia. However, I couldn't help myself. From the two English-speakers in the van, I was given a multitude of reasons: the van was too full, the driver did not possess a license, the driver was going too fast, it was not legal for this type of minivan to make a trip of more than 150km. No one really knew the reason or seemed phased by the incident; Ethiopians live in the moment, unconcerned about future plans.  

negotiations

After 15 minutes of driving, the policeman stopped the van at a gas station and everyone got out and unloaded the luggage. We waited beside the road for 30 minutes, unaware of what we were waiting for, until two more minivans arrived to take us back to Mekele. We started toward Mekele, but then stopped abruptly only to turn around again! We then pulled over for another stretch of time. I had ceased asking questions and played peek-a-boo with the baby next to me, sitting on its mother's lap. Finally, we backed up to begin the return trip to Mekele. We slammed into a pile of jagged rocks behind us. This brought about another period of waiting. Food was exchanged among the passengers, bread, cookies, kollo (barley). And then, seemingly unharmed, we finally made our way back to Mekele. I was relieved to be back where we had started, only three and a half hours later. I had to book a business class flight to return to Addis within the week.