The plan is simple today, to make it to Lake Turkana. The distance isn’t even that alarming, only 350 km, but we are told by local experts that it is over the toughest terrain possible and progress with be slow. The ride will be uncomfortable, and it will be hot – very hot. So just another average day in Africa. If and when we reach Lake Turkana tonight we will actually be closer to the Omo Valley in Ethiopia than Nairobi, so again Christi and I are searching out the remotest parts of Africa. Whereas the Omo Valley was lush and green, Lake Turkana is supposedly like the surface of the moon – barren and rocky (although much hotter).
Not surprisingly we have an early departure. We are up and about before the sun has done its stretches or brushed its teeth. Over breakfast our Dragoman driver / guide reveals some disturbing news. The road between Archers Post and Lake Turkana passes through bandit country. Typically Ethiopian and Somali fighters armed with the dreaded AK-47 assault rifles, they normally rustle cattle, but they are unlikely to pass up such an easy target as an overland truck. We don’t have a military escort so we decide to improvise. One of the passengers is black, another is wearing army fatigues; a third has the idea to duct tape the broom to make it shine like a gun barrel. Darren, the black guy and a Brit on his first trip to Africa, half volunteers / is half coerced into the Dragoman military. He sits at the front of the truck, attempting to look like a soldier while the Dragoman driver takes us north. We endure a few nervous moments, particularly when the truck gets stuck in sand and we have to unpack the sand mats. Darren is put on guard duty and his duct-taped broom looks very unconvincing.
We’re relieved to reach Maralal without incident and stop to pick up provisions for the next several days as no one knows what food might be available at Lake Turkana. The market in this small town is fairly basic and the prices go up exponentially when we try to buy fruit and vegetables. The town has a frontier feel to it, the intersection of different cultures and we see armed Turkana, Samburu, Ethiopians, Somalis to name just a few. It’s a bit like the Cantina sequence from Star Wars!
At the police checkpoint in Baragoi we are informed that there has been trouble up ahead. In the last week, four locals were killed in a cattle-rustling incident, while a World Health Organization SUV was robbed at gunpoint. This time we do get police protection – well one young, nervous police office who looks no more effective than Darren – but at least the policeman has a real gun! Fortunately we make good time because although the roads are rough, they are dry. The scenery, when one can focus on it, is starkly beautiful. We drive between the Samburu Hills to the west and Ndoto Mountains to the east.
Our police escort leaves us a few hours later at South Horr (we think he actually lives there). We also stop for a late lunch. It’s 2 pm and the lake is only 50 miles away, but we are assured that it is the worst section of the whole drive and could take 6 hours. No one wants to be traveling at night, both to avoid bandits but also because the roads are so bad. We vote and it’s close, but we agree to keep going (it’s that old adrenaline rush that all travelers get that makes us all do things we would not do in our normal lives). The closer we get to the lake, the more the truck sways from side to side as we negotiate endless deep pot holes. This is followed by a lava field of razor-sharp rocks. Progress slows to a crawl – a tortoise would sprint past us at this point as we very slowly look for the safest passage across the lava. There are some scrubby bushes and a few flat-topped acacias, but otherwise it is a desolate place and one wonders how people survive up here but they do; we even see herds of goats and camels as we approach the main ‘town’ of Loiyangalani – which has, believe it or not, an airport. Mind you flights are few and far between, but I guess most people crazy enough to visit Lake Turkana fly in!
Formerly known as Lake Rudolf (named in honor of the Crown Prince Rudolph of Austria in 1888), Lake Turkana is the world’s largest permanent desert lake and the world’s largest alkaline lake. The water is potable, but not palatable, although this does not appear to upset the healthy population of Nile crocodiles who call the lake home (but what do they eat?). Fed by three rivers originating in Ethiopia, Lake Turkana is 249 km long and 44 km at its widest point with a depth of 30 meters. And as with most other stunning natural phenomena, Lake Turkana is a UNESCO world heritage site.
As delighted as we are to be here, we’re all exhausted and we still have to set up camp at the El Molo lodge (a grand name for a section of scrub land with next to no facilities), which is a stone’s throw from the airport. There is what appears to be a mirage nearby called the Oasis Lodge. It has a wet bar and swimming pool in addition to air-conditioned rooms. This is low season and there are no guests, yet the management will not countenance a discount on the US$200 per night room rate, so we break out the tents. As it happens we are all so tired we sleep easily in this remote and barren part of Africa.
Blog post by Roderick Phillips, author of Weary Heart – a gut-wrenching tale of love and test tubes.
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