Category: Somalia and Eritrea

I hear the unmistakable braying snort of camel and the scuffle of hooves. I run to the dusty source of the commotion, two camels fighting. One is frothing profusely at the mouth and he is the aggressor. As I arrive the cameleers rain down blows from their batons but the camels seem to be oblivious. I take pictures but the thought crosses my mind that there is an element of cruelty in the unfolding scene.

Markets are the best way to really get a feel for any culture but more so in the developing world. At this unusual market a buyer with a keen eye and haggling powers can pick up a camel for the princely sum of $1200. A goat, by contrast is an absolute steal at $70 US.

This daily market happens on the outskirts of Hargeisa and just as with the market last night, affords a fascinating glimpse of the Somali lifestyle. Not only that there is also the opportunity to photograph one of nature’s more whimsical creations, the camel.

As it is the first day of Ramadan here the lunch options are few and far between and it is back to our hotel for a lunch away frome the fasting populace.
The afternoon excursion to a nomad village near the Ethiopian border fizzled as the old matriarch of the encampment gives us a frosty reception and refuses to show us around. To fill the gap our guide takes us to a plane parked in the middle of a paddock that is being converted to a restaurant. It is also closed. A random “cold call” to a nearby orphanage yielded a better welcome.

First impressions here are underwhelming. This is the capitol city of the yet to be recognised breakaway state of Somaliland. The drive in is along dusty potholed streets. The squat buildings are shabby in a way that is downmarket even by African standards. It is the back story, though, that inspires. After decades of civil war this city was practically obliterated. All that I see has been built in the last 17 years and this is now a city of 1 million people. In that time they have also managed to create a stable government and society which for all its faults speaks volumes for the resilience of these proud people. The vibe is upbeat and as this place literally only sees a handful of tourists annually we are feted as celebrities by the locals.
Our morning is spent seeing the tiny and basic museum and cultural centre.

The afternoon has us bush bashing in our bus to get as close as possible to the twin hills just outside Hargeisa that look like and are locally known as woman’s breasts (Naaso Hablood).

The best of the day, though was in the late afternoon myself and two others going out independently into the massive market in the heart of town and experiencing the chaos, colour, sounds and smells of this vital establishment. This is the form of travelling that sees me in my element.

The horn of Africa has a varied colonial history. Strategically the main game here is access to the Red Sea and Pacific Ocean and the countries here were valued as conduits for trade from the landlocked African countries to the outside world. Italy, France and Britain were all actively staking their claims here throughout the late 19th and early 20th centuries with Italy, interestingly being the most active. In 1960 British Somaliland (which is where I am going) became independent and joined with the Italian Somaliland to form the Somali Republic, a decision that they almost immediately regretted and have been trying to reverse to this day. Indeed French Somaliland also joined in but have subsequently broken away to become the tiny independent country of Djibouti. Decades of dictatorship followed by a breakdown in any meaningful government in Mogadishu has left British Somaliland in political limbo.
They have responded by building a completely separate state within a state. They have their own government, armed forces, police force, currency, hospitals and schools. They have their own separarte visa and do not accept Somali visas. They have applied for admission into the UN as a stand alone independent country. Unfortunately they have not been accepted. It is into this country that I am going into. There is said to be no terrorist threat here and I am on an organised tour group suitable reassured by the presence of a gun carrying guard!

Overland travel, especially through the developing, occasionally has one at a border looking across at a “no go” country. These are countries at war or unsafe for reasons such as disease or terrorist activity. Such moments inspire in me an immense curiosity of what the place and people are actually like. A curiosity that feeds upon itself and has me wondering about the possibility of actually crossing the border.
In 1987 near the end of 2 months back packing through East Africa I found myself on the northern Kenyan island of Lamu, a stone’s throw from the Somali border and the capitol Mogadishu. I toyed with the idea of crossing into Somalia and clearly remember the Lonely Planet guide of the time wax lyrical about miles of beautiful golden beaches, shark infested waters and the politically unstable situation under the Marxist dictator Mohamed Siad Barre a man that the UN described at the time as having one of the worst human rights records in Africa.
In 2008 on a trip to Ethiopia I visited the city of Harare set right up aganst the Somali border and at one road intersection was wistfully gazing across into a failed state. A country racked by terrorism and warring clans. A country in which the terrorist organisation Al-Shabab kidnaps foreigners and holds them for ransom as well as practising piracy on the high seas.
On Tuesday I will be there.