Road trip in Djibouti – Day 7

Lake Abbe, early morning. The sun is rising. A car just arrived at full speed at the camp. We lift our head up and we see men unloading the car in order to load the camels. Soon after, the car leaves the same way it came and, the camel driver goes the other way, with his camels.

Lake Abbé

We are getting ready. We are now heading back to Djibouti city. No rush. A feeling of nostalgia, the adventure is over, no more adrenaline rush. A feeling of relief, we are going back to the civilization, to the known. But the unknown is as well where we stretch our comfort zone out, where we learn about others and so, about ourselves. Mixed feelings then. We are going to leave each others at the airport, the time is no longer going to be suspended, we are going back to what we call home with this feeling that we are a bit different, that we enlarged our perspective. Home has not changed. It is going to feel a bit itchy at the beginning but we are going to fit in again. Sometimes I wonder : And what if that itchy feeling lasts ?

From lake Abbé

Driving back to As-Elay is the new normal. The guide is with us but we don’t really need his guidance. We drop him at As-Elay and we continue straight, back to Dikhil, alone without being worried. We know we are on the right track although the GPS is showing something different. Soon we arrive at Dikhil, at that junction by the smuggled gas station. We pause a moment looking at that crazy traffic of trucks on RN1. Now RN1 feels familiar. We drive back to our former hotel to let them know we are safe. They had promised to call the rescue services if we were not showing up by 4 pm today. Seeing us going alone, one car and no guide had worried them yesterday.

The smuggled gas station

We didn’t eat much local food since we have been mostly picnicking so we stop at a truck stop on RN1. We were expecting eating local food with locals. No locals. Nobody actually but, us. Pasta was the local dish. So we had the local dish.

The local dish

Now what ? We look at the map to see how we can spice up our way back to Djibouti city, with a little detour, a new road, something… Let’s try Ali Sabieh. Not really. Ali Sabieh is a middle size town, not a village. People are more aggressive, more demanding. Trying to call the rental car agency, to see if we can swap our 4x4 for something smaller is a challenge in that phone shop. Misunderstandings and aggressiveness. Villagers are more patient and curious.

The way to Djibouti City

Back to that French supermarket in Djibouti City. We seat down with our Magnum ice-cream.

Saturday is easy peasy. A stroll at the port to chat with the fishermen. Not much to see. I seat at the refreshment stall and I wait for a melon juice. Electricity breakdown so no more melon juice. I wait and watch people. Electricity is back. My melon juice comes just after.
A wander in the streets of Djibouti city. Many governmental buildings. Walk through the market. I am getting tired of people asking me for money, food, water or whatever comes to their mind.

Djibouti port

Lunch in a Yemenite restaurant. They are famous for their fish cooked in the oven. So we go for the fish cooked in the oven with as well, a bread cooked in the oven. It is excellent. My pictures don’t render justice to our meal. Fluffy, airy, moist, light bread that you tear with your hands. We should be eating the fish the same way but I like to use my fork and knife.
We continue our walk around along the beach to the old train station. We were supposed to go to a concert, see Ibrahim playing but one of his cousin said he was still at Obock, where we met him. So we went out to that French restaurant, next to the old train station for dinner. Beef filet with a Roquefort sauce and a gratin dauphinois. Then chocolate croquant. That worked for me, as well.

Djibouti City