As two brazen tourists visited Eritrea - part 2

PORT NO COUNTRY COUNTRY WITHOUT AUTHORITY (continued, p.2) Asmara, the Italian city with cathedrals and green avenues, is totally un-African. Young Eritreans who arrived on vacation from their new homes in America and Europe, dress like rappers, and roam the street where our hotel is located. Italian influence is manifested in pizza, pasta, good makkyato (coffee with a little milk, approx. Perevi.) And baking, and the locals are so well versed in English, that we do not even have to learn the language Tighina or even to demonstrate their knowledge of a few phrases Amharic. Eritrea Eritrean girl - very melenkaya country, and the attractions here, as do any activities for tourists, almost none. Barentu village (which Javier chose the mistaken rumor that the local women go topless) actually turned out to be a small cluster of huts with thatched roofs (with a beautiful but fully clothed women). Nevertheless, I was stopped annoying local resident and asked (in Arabic) to produce authorization to capture (a donkey, in his case). Knowing full well what was going on, we suddenly Javier mysteriously forgot the few Arabic words that were in our head, smiled and went his way. We are well aware of that hard police did not want to take responsibility and deliver on our freedom (and, thus, delaying us for an indefinite period) as soon as we cross the threshold of the police station. We have already passed. And here and drink in the town of Keren, we met a couple from Hungary, which we later traveled together to Massawa. They searched for "krovetki" and "surunchu," as was written in one of the menu. Then we had a fight with a girl - the manager of our hotel (which was trying to tear from us the extra 5 cents - and then we had to convince our satellites shocked that this is a matter of principle, not money) and took our bags out of the hotel. Zealous representative of the hotel service was shouting something, call for help of guests, tried to lock the door and yelled after us: "Sami you thieves!" - And an elderly man mumbled something, they say, Javier absolutely no respect for women. Apparently, due to the fact that in the port of call rather cruise ships, local constantly trying to cheat us, so we returned to the relative cool of Asmara. There on our Hungarian friend was attacked by diarrhea, and just in case he had to wear huge nappies. Javier did not fail to recall how he had done in his pants and sat in them throughout the 10-hour trip by jeep to Pakistan. I am disgusted to the bone due to the fact that I chose these people his friends. "Donkey did not take pictures!" The next step in our Yemen, but it is still unclear whether we can find a dhow from Assab (our guide assures us that it's impossible). We stocked up with enough time to travel to Assab, find nothing and go back to Asmara in order to obtain a visa to Djibouti, then go back and go to the city of Djibouti that are already there to try to find a boat. Survive such an adventure was like oh no-brainer. We have received a visa to Yemen, after spending $ 70 on the "medical examination", which consisted in the fact that we were asked if we have some kind of pathology, poked a needle into his finger, took blood and a minute later said that an AIDS " negative. " Sorry that I did not consider how many times during this procedure, Javier said, "Bl ...". Already in the bus we met an elderly bright red German who traveled to "see" at Assab. He had to return one day with us. We have tried not to enter into contact with him, as his mental condition might be contagious. At this time we took only three hours to start somewhere to sleep. In Assab, we came with absolutely no power. Another proof of the adaptability of the human body is that on the way back we managed to sleep despite the terrible shaking and the August heat. Makeshift market in the town of Keren by some absolutely incredible luck we managed to find a boat on the day of our arrival. We drank beer on the track "Asmara" during the farewell dinner at a fast food restaurant "Tibbs Frankie." After that we set sail on a wooden dhow with two engines. Red sun set over Africa, while we crossed the Red Sea and, finally reached the promised land. Finally we reached the city Taiz (a city in Yemen, approx. Perevi.)! Here everything is familiar and the familiar: men in skirts and kufiyah (male headscarf, approx. Perevi.) Smoking huge hookahs. Everywhere is full of brothels, where chewing khat, restaurants serving delicious rice. The streets are filled with noisy, polluting machines that are so typical of the Middle East. I can say without much exaggeration, that my eyes filled with tears - I returned home! Start material: