Day 12, Entry 1
We ascend from the floor of the Malanja Valley towards the Ngorongoro rim on dank dark red dirt and misty clouds which make the short cropped light yellow grass look like a blanket of celery colored felt. We’re leaving Fr. Ned’s home in the village of Olbalbal, Maasai land.
At the rim, the fog envelopes official buildings, people shrouded in red cloth and stocking caps, and a small hospital where we stop for medicine for one of our passengers.
By noon we are met by our driver-guide and reluctantly say good bye to Fr. Ned and our Olbalbal friends and make our way with ease to the Sopa Lodge, situated 7800 feet above sea level with a view of the crater below.
Escorted to our room with a vestibule, two king size beds and an enclosed porch, we stand and stare at each other – how different from where we just came.
We are more than midway through our journey in Tanzania with much to describe from the last twelve days and five more days of the unknown. Karibu.
We ascend from the floor of the Malanja Valley towards the Ngorongoro rim on dank dark red dirt and misty clouds which make the short cropped light yellow grass look like a blanket of celery colored felt. We’re leaving Fr. Ned’s home in the village of Olbalbal, Maasai land.
At the rim, the fog envelopes official buildings, people shrouded in red cloth and stocking caps, and a small hospital where we stop for medicine for one of our passengers.
By noon we are met by our driver-guide and reluctantly say good bye to Fr. Ned and our Olbalbal friends and make our way with ease to the Sopa Lodge, situated 7800 feet above sea level with a view of the crater below.
Escorted to our room with a vestibule, two king size beds and an enclosed porch, we stand and stare at each other – how different from where we just came.
We are more than midway through our journey in Tanzania with much to describe from the last twelve days and five more days of the unknown. Karibu.
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