The Danakil Desert and the Erta Ale Volcano

I dedicated a year to myself, traveling and exploring Ethiopia and Northeast India (the Seven Sisters). Throughout the year, your tips and many others accompanied me in moments of distress and times without an information source. With great gratitude, I wanted to share a few things I learned on my own as well. Enjoy the read.

Danakil Desert

I explored the Danakil Desert end to end back before Negasi came into the picture. Back then the price was 400 USD, and today it's much less. ​

I don't have much to detail regarding equipment because you will get a better breakdown from Negasi or Abebe. But in short – bring whatever you like, the jeep carries everything. However, there is outdoor camping, so pack your bag in the most comfortable way for you. One more thing: I recommend bringing a small-to-medium backpack for the night trek stage to the volcano, where you'll need to carry gear for one night on your back.

What happens in Danakil...

At the time, we set out in January (the 15th) and the season was perfect. During daytime hours we didn't feel the heat (mainly due to long rides in air-conditioned jeeps), and at night it was very pleasant.

We took a night ride from Gondar and, due to lack of time, started this wonderful journey with a jeep drive (4 people per vehicle) toward the desert. I think Danakil is the only trip in my life where, from start to finish, I never stopped being thrilled. As we entered the desert, it embraced us with mountain shapes never seen before. This wild nature surrounded me from every side and for a moment felt like a divine revelation. The camera my grandmother gave me was tied to my hand and stayed loyal to her until the end of the trip.

We arrived at some unknown village, and it wasn't clear whether the spoken language was Tigrinya or Arabic. Western food was served, and this was the first place in Ethiopia where local food wasn't offered. Whim led me to sneak into the kitchen and eat there with the staff who were giggling while I tried speaking Amharic with them and learning a bit of the local language. Guys in long, colorful skirts looked for a moment like the height of fashion.

We continued

The more we drive, the more I feel the desert becoming even more desert-like—if such a thing exists—but by Discovery standards, this is as desert as it gets. The driver tries to teach us a song in Hebrew that we don't recognize (half a year out of Israel, after all...), but when I get back to Israel, flying high at the top of the charts is Solomon the driver's song, "Derech HaShalom". Driving, driving, and finally we arrive. The yellow sand turned pale and white. We're driving on snow that looks like salt, or salt that looks like snow... at this point, you can't tell. We're dying to jump out of the seat and run around in this endless white. Finally, parked! We arrived right on time and sunset begins. All kinds of photos, video clips for parents back home. Running into an unexplained, super salty body of water. Is this even real? Somewhere amid all the excitement, one last photo was taken because it started getting dark. Off to camp.

I don't know how famous Ethiopia is for its sunsets, but I spent some time in Ethiopia and honestly, I hadn't experienced sunsets to brag about—until that day! Listen up guys, The Lion King didn't lie; he promised and delivered! A true, tear-jerking African sunset. Peeing will wait and happen when the stars come out. Now we rest.

So much fun at camp, and the cold hasn't arrived yet. Wooden beds (incredibly comfy – if they're not broken) paint a cozy, rural vibe, campfire-style ghost stories by flashlight, and a first night without a shower. And speaking of starlight, that night all the stars came out, and my eyes hadn't even dried from the sunset before watering again. So awesome.

Good morning Mr. Buna (finest Ethiopian coffee), and our behinds settle somewhere in the vehicle again. Driving to see what chemicals can do outside of high school chemistry class. Honestly, here it's way more impressive than school lab class. And I don't even have to do anything. Aside from a strong smell that burned our lungs a bit and shortened our lives by a few years – everything was super duper cool. Unexplained streams in weird highlighter colors emerge from the earth and sculpt formations in all colors not found in the rainbow. So great that not enough "responsible" Faranjis (foreigners) have arrived here yet to mess up the landscape with fences and instruct us to 'stay back because the substance is hazardous to breathing, ears, feet, and fingernails, so crossing the designated line is prohibited'. Here, if I wanted to melt my hand in acid, I could do so—and strictly at my own responsibility. Guess what – nobody did that, so I hope safety regulations stay in countries where it's dangerous to sneeze.

We were loaded into the jeep again, and as soon as I smelled the sulfur I realized we had reached hot springs. Don't get too excited – not the kind you can soak in. But there I dared to put my hand into the spring and give myself a hand scrub that made them silky smooth. Tired from the heat, we got back into the jeep with a long drive ahead of us to the next village.

We entered the village; we were no longer in the middle of desert wilderness, but in the middle of the desert in a village. Mattresses awaited us on the floor in a pinkish room, plus more Buna. Ah, Buna. We asked if a hot bucket shower was possible, and got one. A few of us enjoyed the luxury. An absolute delight, followed by an endless buffet of dishes (yes, mostly local). Simply amazing! Injera and more Injera with a variety of sauces devoured until we were full. Singing lullabies and good night.

So yes, I'm starting this paragraph (and the day) with another drive. It's important to emphasize that you don't really feel the drives... if you're exhausted, try to take a nap, unless the scenery captivates you and lays out the next most beautiful thing you've ever seen in your life. And today's headline is sands. So we entered another desert that looked even more desert-like than the previous one, but this time people and sights cross the path making you tell yourself "come on, no way, I'm in the Bible", ostriches running to take cover from the monster jeeps. Stopping to eat in some village. Driving again until reaching the starting point of the trek. Waiting for darkness to turn on flashlights and start climbing – finally a bit of walking, my back is already mocking me and calling me a couch potato. Backpacks on, double-checking all gear is there, and off we go with full military energy. 16 Israelis, overtaking every group ahead of us, because come on – we've been waiting 3 days for this miraculous thing at the end of the trail. Heavy or not, hot, cold, hot... doesn't matter. We march, sing songs, laugh, and mostly run. I don't remember if it was 3, 4, or 5 hours, but in the end we reached the edge. Spotting a glowing red light from afar and roaring at it like tigers.

Okay, I've reached the part where I'm supposed to explain what you see when you arrive, but cut me some slack this time because I don't know how to do that... I'll just say eyes get watery again, maybe a bit more this time, but mostly total disbelief. For hours I sit and stare at this erupting lava that almost touches me, thinking what a cool scar that would be, and what a story to tell the kids about getting stung by lava somewhere in the world during the coolest trip possible.

And sitting there I thought, wow, what a place Ethiopia is, and how does anyone ever leave this place.

The pinnacle of the trip and the top of the world. We're told it's time to sleep to see this madness at sunrise. A small dinner and honestly I was still hungry, but mainly I was waiting for sunrise.

Final morning photos, solo and with the group, and we have to say goodbye and admit it's over... On the last drive I try to absorb as much scenery as possible into my brain's storage, ignoring the stomach bug that hit us all.

With that I sum up the short, unforgettable affair with Danakil. Ciao.