At about 1700 we saw in the distance a long caravan of at least 50 camels. By the time we reached the path we had seen several more. We were about 2km from the village when 20 to 30 kids joined us. They’d seen our mules arrive and our tents being erected so had come to meet us. We arrived at Marrawah with clouds of dust and swarms of companions.

Our camp was on a school playing field on the hill opposite the village. It had been market day and the camels we had seen had brought salt from the Danakil desert and were now returning. From our vantage point we watched the last caravan leave in the setting sunlight, it was all very pretty. We went into the town to see if we could find for me a blanket-sized shawl and maybe sample some "tej". The village policeman had somewhat adopted us, he showed us around and he shooed away the children (who were quite over-excited by now).

One trader had bundles of shawls to choose from although Solomon insisted the best one, the one he would buy, was the plain unbleached one; great to use around the camp fires while on trek but not so useful later as a souvenir. Ethiopian shawls are less than a metre wide and come in two pieces. Once purchased it is usual to get them sewn together, so while this was being done we got comfortable in the tej house.

Tej is an orange coloured honey beer (mead) and is not at all sweet. It is traditionally served in glass laboratory flasks, the sort that might be used for urine samples. The tej house was a single room with a bench running around the wall. Customers sit on goat skins and invariably take home fleas. While we were there the policeman came in and set up a low table in front of us followed swiftly by a large plate of injera and some sizzling hot "tibs" (lean pieces of lamb). He insisted we were his guests and we enjoyed a nibble with our drinks.