I Was in a Low Spot
But it's not what you think! My visit to the Danakil Depression in Ethiopia
Ciao Dear Reader:
I like birthdays, providing they include presents, that is. My last birthday (52) was celebrated on a rolling refrigerator in the Saudi desert. I told that story in my last newsletter.
My 46th birthday, however, was celebrated in a remote corner of Ethiopia. I tell the whole story in “Far and Wild.” Here is an excerpt from that chapter, along with some pictures of the amazing place I found myself on February 3, 2019.
It was hot. Very hot. It was stinky. Very stinky. Sulfuric gasses bubbled from hellish vents in the earth. The air was so intense that I could hardly breathe. Boiling water gushed from underground, forming ponds of salt and brick-red oil. The place is so alien that scientists actually use it to study if and how life might form on inhospitable planets.
I was in the Danakil Depression. At 125 meters (410 ft) below sea level, it is one of the lowest places on earth. The earth’s colors there are nearly fluorescent, ranging from lemon yellow to rusty ochre to every shade of green imaginable. If I had not seen the colors with my own eyes, I would have found pictures of the Depression unbelievable, certainly altered somehow. But it is all natural and real.
I walked on a mantle that alternated between crunchy and slippery. The heat from the volcanic surface cooked my feet, even through my sturdy hiking boots.
The Danakil Depression is often called the cradle of humanity, partly because the famous fossil Lucy was found there. Dated at 3.2 million years old, Lucy is considered by many scientists to be the oldest known humanoid. I saw her in a nearby museum. She looked tiny and old.
I celebrated my 46th birthday on the way to Erta Ale, one of Ethiopia’s active volcanos. An American man in our group had a bottle of wine in his backpack. We opened and drank it, sitting on the uneven stone floor of our shelter, accompanied by a simple but delicious meal prepared by our local host. It was a good day.
I always wanted to peer into a volcano’s bubbling, flaming red magma, and Erta Ale offered me that chance. The muddy road leading to the volcano was so broken by wide chasms that our 4x4 struggled to stay on track. After two hours of hard slogging, we arrived at the foot of the Erta Ale volcano, where we prepared for the night climb.
As dusk fell, we set off with flashlights for the active crater. Three hours later, we were at its edge. I hoped to glimpse Erta Ale’s seething molten rock, but the volcanic gases were too intense. I had trouble breathing, and my eyes watered terribly. The best I can say is that, for a brief moment, I saw a red glow through the grey clouds of gas.
“We’ll pitch our tents over here,” the guide said. “As long as the winds don’t shift, we should be safe from the gas.”
Oh, joy! I thought. One misdirected gust, and I’ll be a crispy critter.
I spent the night coughing, tossing, and turning in my sleeping bag, lying on the hot earth, and hoping the wind blew in our favor. It did, and we were rewarded the following day with a spectacular sunrise, making all the discomfort of the previous night worthwhile.
Ethiopia is a country of limitless beauty and fascination, but it is like a pearl enclosed in a hard and impenetrable shell, one not easy to pry open. Today, the country has become even more difficult to visit due to the outbreak of war.
My first wish for Ethiopia is peace. I also wish to return there one day, as it is one of my favorite countries.
Speaking of birthdays, I just bought Brant his birthday present — two tickets to see Nick Cave perform in Rome. Send me a message if you’ll be in the eternal city this 22 July, and we’ll have a coffee!
As always, thanks for your interest in my travels. Please share this post with others you think would enjoy them. My newsletters, with photos and videos from my travels, are all free. I hope they will pique your interest in “Far and Wild.”
Coming Up!
In my next newsletter, I’ll have some new stories to tell from my trip to Southeast Asia, where I am now.
Until then, all my best.
Love,
