The camp on the edge of the crater consists of a few simple huts made from piled up stones. We crawled into the most remote hut to be away from the Afar guides talking the night away while chain-smoking. At sunrise the view of the crater itself was much less impressive than during the night: a bit of smoke coming from a hole in the crater floor. Continue Reading →
Tag Archives | Erta Ale
Looking At The Gate To Hell
In November 2010, the lava lake rose so high that it flooded large parts of the outer crater floor. It was actually still unusually high when we peeked into the noisily bubbling lava lake in January 2011. It might sound hard to believe, but we were quite exhausted from climbing the 650 meters to the rim of the caldron. And we had now to do so more climbing! An Afar guide took us down to the floor of the large outer crater. Continue Reading →
Like A Cyclop’s Eye High In The Sky…
Getting out of the sun was all we wanted when we arrived at the little base camp at the foot of Erta Ale. So we hid in small shelters made from piled up stones. Only around 06:00 pm did the temperature allow the start of our slow ascent. This time, we were accompanied by four additional armed Afar scouts, their Kalashnikov casually slung around their shoulders. But their mood was foul, we figured it must have had something to do with the argument we watched in the village. All we carried was a bottle of water, the camel hauled the little we needed, lots of water and our camping beds. Continue Reading →
Afar Life Under The Volcano
At the end of this lung-blowing journey waits Erta Ale. In Afar language this means “Smoking Mountain”, not a bad name for one of the most active volcanoes worldwide and one of five that has a permanent lava lake. Continue Reading →
A tough ride to Erta Ale
If you draw a straight line on the map, the distance between Hamed Ale and Erta Ale is peanuts, only 60 kilometers. But what a trip! There is no road in this part of the Danakil Depression, period. That is why we had brought a scout all the way from Berdahile, a skinny guy who got motion-sick all the time and who did not know the area at all. He kept asking our armed Afar police escort, so the latter eventually took over guiding us through the dusty, rough terrain. Continue Reading →