In Ethiopia with a Mule

Even Dervla Murphy had to admit when she went to Ethiopia at the end of 1966 that this wasn't a place where a bicycle was going to be much use for getting around, so she travelled through the highlands on foot, accompanied for most of the way by a loyal pack-mule called Jock. As you would expect, there's a lot of astonishing scenery, breathtaking climbs and descents, plenty of hardship and quite a few near-catastrophes on the trail — she's robbed several times, she and Jock both suffer repeatedly from accident, disease, noxious insects and hunger, and near the end of the journey Jock is so worn out that she is obliged, to her infinite regret, to trade him in for a donkey.

But, this being Dervla Murphy in her prime, she seems to have an show more unlimited capacity for laughing at her own discomfort and bouncing back from any difficulty. And she also has an astonishing gift for making contact with the local people wherever she is. Even in the poorest village she always seems to manage to find a family prepared to offer her their hospitality for the night, and whether or not they have a language in common, she's soon drinking beer with them, learning about their lives, and sharing their meal before bedding down on the floor of a hut, squashed in between children and goats. As in her other books, it's obvious that this kind of contact — despite the bed-bugs — is the thing that gives her most pleasure during her travels, and she starts fretting as soon as there's an interlude of "civilisation" in a town with a hotel or westernised teachers or officials.

Murphy only devotes a few pages to Addis Ababa and doesn't have much to say about the political situation at the time of writing, so this isn't a book to turn to for an analysis of the last years of Haile Selassie's reign, but it is a fascinating account of a region not many outsiders had visited in those days. show less

Adventure in Abyssinia

Published in 1968, this is a remarkable account of one woman's trek of over 1000 miles through Ethiopia. Accompanied only by her trusty mule, Jock, she tells of their adventures crossing the inhospitable terrain: ascending mountains, swimming across rivers, and the swamps and jungle around Lake Tana. The narrative, of course, is brought to life by her dealings with local people whom she encounters on the way, often sleeping in their compounds. She writes of the poverty, the bugs and disease; but also the interesting and amusing situations she encounters; and the dangers from hostile 'shiftas' (bandits.) And she describes beautiful scenery and magical moments.
The author's sense of humour shines out in her writing, show more at herself as much as the Ethiopians.
Rather less 'political' than her later work on Laos.
One finishes the book full of admiration for a colossal achievement by a solitary traveller, unfazed by the injuries and difficulties she suffers in this remote and impoverished country. show less

I don't know how I managed to leave this in "to read" when I actually read it several years ago. It is one book I would gladly read again. Dervla Murphy travels through Ethiopia alone, relying on the kindness of strangers and her impressive ability to drink people under the table and ride off into the sunrise the next morning. While this journey is physically taxing, and Murphy is robbed three times and often exhausted, she ends with the same cheerful optimism and quietly cynical love for fellow man that make all her books a joy to read.

A very interesting account of travels throughout the Ethiopian highlands in the late 60s. This paragraph caught my attention "What damage are we doing, blindly and swiftly, to those races who are being taught that because we are materially richer we must be emulated without question? What compels us to infect everyone else with our own sick urgency to change, soften and standardise? How can we have the effrontery to lord it over peoples who retain what we have lost-a sane awareness that what matters most is immeasurable?

Hope the people of the so called first wold get this message.

A very interesting account of travels throughout the Ethiopian highlands in the late 60s. This paragraph caught my attention "What damage are we doing, blindly and swiftly, to those races who are being taught that because we are materially richer we must be emulated without question? What compels us to infect everyone else with our own sick urgency to change, soften and standardise? How can we have the effrontery to lord it over peoples who retain what we have lost-a sane awareness that what matters most is immeasurable?

Hope the people of the so called first wold get this message.

First person account, in DM's idiosyncratic manner, of a 3 month trek through unforgiving terrain in Northern Ethiopia, in the 1960s. The scenery is clearly dramatic and spectacular but does not sound appealing, at least to me. Furthermore, the local people are a hard lot and she encounters a fair measure of distrust, coldness and downright thievery (3 times), while seeking shelter for the night.
All in all, a somewhat unsatisfying read and not nearly as good as her wandering in the Andes.

She's hard and no doubt about it. Readable, yes, a great book, no. It misses a thread running through the narrative and therefore reads more like a list of journal entries (which I suppose it is). She paints a good picture and that's the joy of the book really.