From: Biniam Tekle (biniamt@dehai.org)
Date: Mon Dec 07 2009 - 08:15:29 EST
Wish you were here on the Road (and Rail) show in Eritrea
By John Honeywell on Dec 7, 09 11:26 AM in Cruise destinations
The bank headquarters building just outside the port gates of Massawa in
Eritrea must have been an impressive and bustling sight in its hey-day.
Now it lies in ruins as crows fly between the empty arches of its broken
windows and out through the remaining rafters of its roof.
The square in front would have been a pleasant oasis for traders to barter,
or exchange gossip. A huge statue in the centre was surrounded by stone
benches and little avenues of well-watered plants.
Now all is in ruins. An empty plinth stands in a sea of dust, and although
the town still boasts the largest deep-water port in the Red Sea, trade -
like the gardens - has virtually dried up.
A visiting cruise ship in these parts is a sight as rare as a well-nourished
donkey and when I walked into the square from the Spirit of Adventure I was
immediately surrounded by a gaggle of inquisitive urchins.
"Where you from? You from ship? You passenger?"
The response when they established I was from England was instantaneous and
predictable.
Half a dozen children's faces broke into broad smiles, showing gleaming
teeth, and they competed among themselves to throw names at me.
"David Beckham, Stevie Gerrard, Wayne Rooney, Manchester United, Chelsea,"
were the first to be mentioned, and I'll forgive them for including Ronaldo
and AC Milan among the list.
Poor they may be - the average income in this country which has been brought
to its knees by war and famine is just $350 a year - but they still get the
chance to watch football on TV, and wherever there is room in the street or
any open space, they will be kicking a ball.
Even in the poorest of shanty towns out in the country, where the shacks are
made of rusting corrugated iron sheets and flattened oil drums, children
like these are dressed in replica football shirts with their heroes' names
on the back.
This is about as far from the usual cruise ship destination as it is
possible to get. No duty-free shops, no stores selling watches, gold and
silver jewelry, diamonds, Tanzanite (whatever that is) or even T-shirts and
sunglasses.
One enterprising local had laid out a few items of faded basket-ware on a
sheet at the corner of the square, and behind the bank was a half-ruined
shop with sea-shells, drums and baskets, supervised by a rather hopeful
vendor who expected to get $100 for every item and so far as I know failed
to make a single sale.
So why were we here?
Apart from the fact that Massawa is on Spirit of Adventure's route from the
Mediterranean to the Far East, the sole reason for making a stop here was to
send passengers on a two-hour journey up country on a steam train built when
Eritrea was an Italian colony, and Mussolini's greatest achievement was to
make the trains run on time. Even in Africa.
Cruise director Neil Horrocks fell in love with steam as a boy riding the
Romney Hythe and Dymchurch railway back home, and it was his determined
obsession that had made this trip possible.
Our four-carriage train was hauled by Ansaldo, an engine built in Genoa in
1938, and it laboured asthmatically through the desert and the hills,
pausing on the way to take on water delivered by road tanker.
The wooden seats were bone-hard and dusty. Specks of soot - and thorny twigs
wrenched from the trackside - blew in through the glassless windows, and
after an hour or so even the most diehard enthusiast would have agreed that
the scenery was beginning to get monotonous.
But when we arrived at our destination, Mai Atal, we were greeted with
bottles of ice-cold water, cups of hot sweet coffee . . . and pizzas (the
Italian influence again) and everyone agreed it had been worth the effort.
We would have been happy to re-board the train - as Neil did, this time on
the footplate - but we drove back to Massawa by mini-bus, leaving the
remaining passengers from the ship to make the rail journey in the reverse
direction.
Back in that dusty square outside the bank, I bumped into Antiques Roadshow
art expert Clive Stewart-Lockhart, who was beginning to get exasperated. Not
with the children, who were as delightful as ever, but with his inability to
buy a drink.
"This is the only place on earth I have been unable to get a beer. I'm
determined to find somewhere that will serve me."
I watched him stride off behind the bank and past the $100 shop in search of
the one bar reputed to accept US money.
When I saw him back on board later in the evening he was delighted to report
mission accomplished.
And the experience had apparently been a memorable one. Not simply because
had he been able to buy three beers for $5, and not just because the bar
owner had whipped away a table from a group of his regular customers and
ceremoniously wiped it with a wet rag for the benefit of his British guests.
But most bizarrely, as they sat there savouring their Asmara beers, the
Antiques Roadshow team, which also included jewelry expert Ian Harris,
glanced up at the television bolted to the wall and watched amazed as a news
report broadcast the sale of a diamond being auctioned by Christies.
You need a real Spirit of Adventure to experience moments like these.
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