The summer holidays when our children were away at school in England were always a very exciting time for us. We would be told what plane they were on {probably an EAL one (Ethiopian Airlines) and would get down to the airport (probably far too early) and would wait anxiously for the plane to arrive and land. When it did land, we would hang over the rails above the entrance hall until they appeared. Then we would wave madly at them until they got through the customs where their cases would be opened to check they no illegal products inside. I can’t remember what these products were, but I am sure they were not in the children’s luggage but at last, they were through and coming up the steps to where we were waiting. Much excitement and hugging and then out of the airport buildings and down to the Chevrolet car we had. (I remember it was green in colour) and we loaded all their luggage into it and set off on the road to Mulu.
Once there, a group of excited local children would rush up to greet us all.
We would go into the house and unpack their suitcases and put the contents into one of the large rooms Judith at the front of the house. We must have stayed a few days there unpacking their clothes and giving them time to the fact that we lived at 8000 ft above sea level. We stayed several days there as they got used to the fact that they were home again and visiting all the local places near the house and meeting up with their local friends. Finally, we would set off for Lake Langano (one of the Rift Valley lakes) where we had a camping site. A local man, called Lemma looked after it for us and stopped other people camping there. Somehow, he could prove that he owned the land, and we would always pay him rent for it. His wife was called Batterie (which meant beautiful) in the local language – not the batteries you put into torches.
There were some fish in the lake. I remember one enormous fish called a catfish which we caught but it was revolting to eat. We gave it to the local people who loved it and were allowed to eat it on fasting days which were on Wednesdays and Fridays every week. Occasionally we would catch tilapia fish which were much nicer to eat.
I also remember a small island that we called Cat Island which was about 500 metres away.
Michael was a keen sailor, so we tried to make a sail that we could use with one of the boats. It was quite successful going in one direction but trying to turn it around to come back, never really worked. For some reason, water would flow into the boat until it began to sink. However, we persevered and finally made a sail that worked.
My mother Christine was a good sailor, so we helped her into the boat and away she and Michael sailed to Cat Island and back again. How brave of her
My sailing days lasted about 30 minutes. Michael put me into a boat and sailed to his favourite place. Somehow something went wrong, and the boat seemed to be filling with water and beginning to sink.That was the last time I ever tried sailing.