6 ★ FINANCIAL TIMES JUNE 7/JUNE 8 2014

G ebre, our guide, was get-ting exasperated. “It’seasy,” he said. “Womencome up here with babieson their backs – it’s easy.”

It was not easy. I’d been paralysedwith fear for five minutes, stuck half-way up a cliff with no rope, spread-eagled on the sandstone, starfish-like,my hands and bare feet, slick withsweat and terror, slipping from thetiny crannies. Twenty feet below wasthe narrow ledge I’d set off from;1,000ft below that, the valley floor.Above, somewhere up there, was theclifftop rock church of Abuna YemataGuh. And above that, only heaven.Ending up at any of them was dis-tinctly on the cards.

If the 100 or so ancient cliffchurches of Ethiopia’s Tigray regionin the country’s far north are difficultto get to, the same could have beensaid until very recently for the area asa whole. Remote and mountainous, itwas blighted by civil war from the1970s until the 1990s, and in the 1980swas also the centre of the famine thathorrified the world. Since then, anytourists who do venture north ofAddis Ababa tend to stop at the coun-try’s headline attraction, Lalibela’srock-hewn churches, rather than car-rying on to Tigray.

But a new chain of community-runhedamos (guesthouses) dotted throughthe gloriously stark landscape ofmesas and deep ravines, means thatTigray, with its rock churches, its pas-toral culture unchanged for millenniaand so much besides, is now more eas-ily accessible to trekkers. Built byNGOs, the guesthouses are basic (butoften with astounding views) and trekscan be bookended by stays at two lux-ury lodges, the Agoro at Adigrat andthe Gheralta near Hawzen.

We had planned a three-night, four-day walk of about 40 miles, setting offfrom Agoro, the first of the luxurylodges, built in 2011 just outside thetown of Adigrat. Our group was madeup of four British walkers, EndeleTeshome, our guide from Addis, andthe two donkeys we’d hired to carryour luggage, for where we were goingthere were no roads.

We climbed, through forests of euca-lyptus, the floor carpeted with wildsage, the fragrance kicked up by thedonkeys’ hooves, the thin air 6,000ftabove sea level making us work hard.A mule train came the other way,carrying grain to Adigrat.

After a couple of hours, we reachedthe top of the ridge. Spread before uswas a landscape of such epic scale andgrandeur that it took a while to takeit all in: vast canyons for miles, andbuttes and mesas topped with juniperforests, with the ragged, shark-teethAdwa Mountains forming the back-drop, like some lost world imaginedby Hollywood animators.

On the edge of the escarpment, wesat under a giant wizened olive treeand looked out, the soundtrack of thisworld drifting up to us in snatchedfragments: children laughing; a howl-ing dog; a woman’s voice, sensual,singing softly. We descended and

walked along the valley floor, throughvillages of stone Tigrayan tukulhouses, past people in white robeswinnowing maize by hand, or thresh-ing millet with pairs of oxen. Clearsprings fed fields of onions andcabbages, and everywhere we went,we were trailed by a coterie of smallgiggling children. Everyone waved atus, smiling. “They will not have seentoo many outsiders before,” saidEndele. It was a scene, he added, thatwould have been little changed sincebiblical times.

He pointed out the birds as we went– the black-winged lovebird and thewhite-cheeked turaco (both endemic),the African firefinch and cinnamon-breasted bee-eater; brilliant flashesof colour, all completely tame. A troopof gelada monkeys watched us froma giant fig tree. There was a realsense of Shangri-La about theseTigrayan valleys.

The path rose again. After an hourwe reached a door in the mountain-side. Endele disappeared and returnedwith a priest, with silver hair andchaotic teeth. The door was unlockedand we entered a cave. In the gloom,I could make out carved sandstoneAksumite pillars, a barrel-shapedknave and pews of rock. Covering thewalls were frescoes in primary coloursdepicting familiar scenes from the

Bible but with the unfamiliar twist fora westerner such as me that all thefaces were African.

According to Endele, nobody isreally sure why Tigray’s churcheswere carved into cliff faces. Just asnobody really seems to know whenthey were built, with guesses rangingfrom the fourth century – when whatwas then the Kingdom of Aksumbecame one of the world’s first officialChristian states – to the ninth, mak-ing them older than the churches ofLalibela, 150 miles to the south. Untilthe mid-1960s, when the churcheswere first chronicled, they werealmost unknown outside Tigray –even to Ethiopians. But in manyways, the mystery only deepens thesense of wonder about Ethiopia, theonly African state never colonised.

“Encompassed on all sides by theenemies of their religion,” wrote18th-century historian Edward Gib-bon, “the Ethiopians slept near athousand years, forgetful of the worldby whom they were forgotten.”

We walked on, along the rim of themountains, the sun starting to fall,gradually turning the sandstone fromvermilion to ochre. A Verreaux’s eaglewas being mobbed by a dozen ravens,the whole like some graceful dogfight.Right at the end of the ridge, the onlyman-made structure for miles, andinches from the cliff edge, was thehedamo at Enaf. A simple stone build-ing of rooms set around a courtyard,based on the traditional Tigray farm-houses, it had been built by twoNGOs, Adigrat Diocese Catholic Secre-tariat and Tesfa Community-basedTourism. Dinner was cooked on anopen fire and served by villagers whorun the guesthouse as a cooperative.After the meal, tired from the fivehours of hard walking, and with noelectricity to provide night-time dis-tractions, there was nothing to do butdrift off into the deepest kind of sleepon mats laid on traditional mud beds,listening to the wind howl.

The next day we walked across roll-ing plains of golden teff (Ethiopia’sstaple grain for making injera bread),spiked with cypress trees, the wholescene redolent of Tuscany. Then alongvalleys of giant candelabra cactus andaloe, riven with sparkling brooks, sovisually perfect and ordered that theylooked as if they had all been formallylandscaped. Following tracks walkedby Tigrayan highlanders for millen-nia, we climbed up escarpments, eyed

Celtic Manor is like aminiature country runby a benign but golf-

obsessed government. That’strue of most golf clubs butthis Welsh resort is a biggerdeal than most. It may notyet have an army or a spaceprogramme but it does havea kind of capital, in the form

Into the swing of things in WalesOnce a derelict maternity hospital, Celtic Manor has grown into a golf resort grand enough to host Nato’s next summit. Neville Hawcock checks in

of the 330-room ResortHotel, the twin-winged slabof a building that loomsover the M4 motorway asyou head towards Newport.This would be more thangrand enough for any self-respecting parliament, espe-cially one whose membersfelt the need for spa facili-ties; maybe David Cameronand Barack Obama will optfor some pampering whenCeltic Manor hosts the Natosummit in September.

It has regional centres,too, with clubhouses scat-tered here and there, suchas the one it built when theRyder Cup was held here in2010. It worries about educa-tion, laying on a Golf Acad-emy to make sure its shift-ing populace of guests canhold their heads high in theglobal golf economy. And itdoes infrastructure, withroads connecting its facili-ties and the three courseson Celtic Manor’s 2,000 vari-ously hilly, wooded, watery,grassy, putting-greened andbunkered acres.

It has come a long waysince 1980, when technologyentrepreneur Sir Terry Mat-thews – Wales’s first billion-aire, as a staff member

of outdoorsy adventure,nothing more: I don’t thinkthey’d be too impressed ifyou turned up with a gunand a retriever. But is a golfcourse – or even a golfstatelet – any place for afamily to spend the week-end? Especially a barelysporting, definitely non-golfing family, lightly fraz-zled after a cab ride and acrowded train journey fromLondon to Newport?

In fact, that grumpy com-mute made our roomy,immaculate lodge all themore appealing. Like itsneighbours, the PluckyPheasant had a congeniallysilly name (next door: theKooky Kestrel), was largelymade of wood, giving it ashake-that-city-dust-off feel,and was highly spacious.I think ours could have com-fortably swallowed up thefamily home but that mayhave been an illusion causedby the lack of clutter. Themain living room, though,was certainly as tall as ahouse: looking up, you sawthe inverted “V” of the roof,all in pale planking, as youwould in a church. It hadthree ranks of windows too:a whole house façade for a

single room. It reminded meof that scene in Help! wherethe Beatles each go intotheir apparently separateterraced houses but it’s onebig groovy space inside.

It was all very open-plan:the lounge merged into thedining area, with its big,long chunk of a table, whichmerged into the kitchen,which had all the equip-ment you could wish for.There was also a bathroomwith a sauna, and a sort ofZen games room, furnishedwith bean bags, a big screenand a games console.

Perhaps inevitably, therewas a hot tub too, which satin a spacious porch off thelounge. But if you’re goingto wallow in luxury, thenwallow: I’m a sucker forthese things. This one hadviews across to the otherside of the Usk valley, allcloud shadows sliding overpatchwork fields and farm-houses and spinneys; onits putting-green floor, tinyplayers were intent ontheir rounds.

As the children lolledin their rooms in digitalindolence, hypnotised by

YouTube Team Fortresstutorials and Adventurelandcartoons, the grown-upssipped tea in the tub andassayed various permuta-tions of jets and bubbles.

The Hunter Lodges areself-catering but that’s anoption rather than an obli-gation. You can order inhampers, for breakfast orafternoon tea, or takeaways(pizza, Indian, fish andchips). These cost roughlythe same as you would payyour local takeaway and arepretty good. If you’re feelinghungry and flush, there’s acook-it-yourself roast dinnerhamper, serving eight, witha four-kilo rib of beef for£240. That wasn’t muchgood for my daughter, whois a vegetarian, but thecaterers came up with anice pulse dish for her; theywere even unfazed by mygluten-free diet. (Yes, no oneinvites us for dinner twice.)

Unless you’re a completeslob, those options stillentail clearing up, loadingthe dishwasher and so on.Another option is to dial upa car – there’s complimen-tary transport for guests –and head for one of the sixon-site restaurants.

For many, the main drawwill be the golf. But sincenone of us had ever playedbefore, we booked an intro-ductory lesson on Saturdayafternoon and, before lunch,got in the mood by playingmini-golf on a course thatreplicated the most chal-lenging holes of the worldand bore the grandiosename Kingdom of Legends.

I went two under on thetricky long green at Valder-rama, and the thrilling pos-sibility of a dormant talentopened up – only to snapshut again when we beganour lesson. As patient proMichael taught us therudiments of gripping theclub and driving the ball, itbecame clear that, like arisky investment, success inthe Kingdom of Legends isno guide to future perform-ance. For every ball that Iwatched sail past the 100-metre mark, 10 scatteredwildly to the left or right.

Yet if you can do oneimmaculate shot, with theball lofting obediently intothe sky, you can surely domore . . . and so the interesttakes hold. Maybe if I focusmore on stance this time?Or adjust my fingers just

Clockwise from main picture:a priest at the clifftop church ofAbuna Yemata Guh; Mike Carter’sgroup have breakfast at Enaf; climbingtowards one of the churches; a womanprepares a coffee ceremony for thegroup; a priest at the churchof Gohgot Eyesus Mike Carter

One of Celtic Manor’s new ‘Hunter Lodges’

E T H I O P I A

ERITREA

SUDAN

Hawzen

Adigrat

Addis Ababa

Lalibela

GondarMek’ele

LakeTana

Red Sea

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by rock hyraxes, golden eagles soar-ing on the thermals, and along nar-row, crumbling ledges with sheerdrops and, every few hours, in themiddle of nowhere, came across achurch door in a cliff wall. There wasalways a priest and nearly alwaysa congregation, usually just one ortwo men, eager to commence a four-hour mass. After another long day ofwalking, we reached the hedamo atGohgot, tucked at the foot of a largesandstone bluff.

On our third day, crossing theShimbrety plateau, we were invitedinside a sheep farmer’s house for acoffee ceremony. In the country wherethe arabica plant originated, drinkingcoffee is a serious business, attendedby ritual and love. Fresh straw waslaid on the stone floor in our honour.An AK-47 hung from the rafters.“They have been having problemswith leopards,” said Endele.

The ceremony began. The beanswere roasted over an open fire,pounded with a mortar, then takenaround and shaken under the guests’noses to allow them to smell thearoma. Endele told us how three cupsof coffee are served in honour of alegend involving three monks. Thefirst round of coffee, called the awel,is the strongest, the second, kale’i, islighter, and the third, bereka (“to beblessed”) the lightest of all. The coffeewas accompanied by balls of barleypaste skewered with twigs anddunked into a chilli sauce.

We bought a sheep from the farmerand invited him and his family to joinus for dinner that night. We walkedto the edge of the plateau and therewas Shimbrety, our final guesthouse,built, like the others, on the edge ofa sandstone cliff. This one was enor-mous, maybe 3,000ft high, and theviews so staggering and the worldso beautiful that even a confirmedatheist might start to wonder.

The farmer, his family, and a groupof other locals arrived. The muttonwas fried with garlic and onion, andeaten dunked in a fiery sauce of chilliand araki, a potent spirit.

The sun disappeared. The tempera-ture plummeted. We moved into atiny room, lit only by the fire burningat its centre. Somebody producedtella, fermented maize beer, and some-body else a few bottles of tej, the

10 km

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B r i sto lC h a n n e l

proudly told me – boughtthe derelict maternity hos-pital where he was bornand set about doing it up.

Now Celtic Manor hasembarked on a housingprogramme, building 10“Hunter Lodges” on astretch of track along fromthe 2010 Clubhouse. Theaim is to extend the resort’sappeal by providing high-end self-catering accommo-dation for families andgroups of up to eight.

The “Hunter” designationis meant to make you think

Travel

On foot througha forgotten land

Great walks In the second of a series onhiking holidays, Mike Carter treks to theancient cliff churches of Tigray in Ethiopia

I’d been paralysed withfear for f ive minutes,stuck halfway up a cliffwith no rope, my handsslick with terror

Great JourneysFrom a boat trip through Myanmar to adrive across New Mexico, read morefrom our Great Journeys series atft.com/greatjourneys

JUNE 7 2014 Section:Weekend Time: 5/6/2014 - 18:03 User: crawfordm Page Name: WKD6, Part,Page,Edition: WKD, 6, 1

FINANCIAL TIMES JUNE 7/JUNE 8 2014 ★ 7

Trekking to theDaniel Korkorchurch in Tigray,Ethiopia Alamy

Travel

London A luxurious 91­roomhotel has opened on a formerbomb site in what was Soho’sseediest corner. The Ham YardHotel is the latest propertyfrom Firmdale, the company runby designer Kit Kemp and herhusband Tim, who have sevenother London hotels as well asone in New York. In an areaonce renowned for drugs andprostitution, Ham Yard was thelast undeveloped second worldwar bomb site in Soho beforeFirmdale acquired the land in2009 for a reported £30m. Ithas now been transformed intoan “urban village” with 13specialist shops in a tree­linedpedestrian street. The hotel hasa rooftop garden, library, spa,188­seat theatre and a 1950sbowling alley imported fromTexas; bedrooms have floor­to­ceiling windows. Meanwhile,Nobu Hospitality, the restaurantand hotel company whoseowners include chef NobuMatsuhisa and actor Robert DeNiro, has announced plans toopen a London hotel in whatwould until recently have beenconsidered a similarlyinsalubrious location. The156­room property is due toopen in 2016 in Willow Street,

a Shoreditch backstreet behindthe budget Hoxton Hotel.firmdalehotels.com;nobuhotels.com

Kathmandu The Nepalesegovernment is opening 104 newpeaks to climbers, offering eventhose with little experience theprospect of making a firstascent. KE Adventure, a Britishtour operator, has alreadyresponded to the move bylaunching a trip to make thefirst ascent of Mukot Peakwhen it opens next year. The6,087m peak lies to the northof Dhaulagiri, the world’sseventh­highest mountain. The21­day trip, departing October 32015, costs £2,895; participantsneed only to be fit and to haveused crampons before. Theproviso is that this will be the

first “recorded ascent” – othersmay have already reached thesummit without officialpermission. Space is limited to12 people but other operatorsare likely to announce moreexpeditions to the newly openedpeaks in the coming months.The Nepalese governmenthopes the move will increasetourism revenue while alsoeasing congestion on the mostpopular peaks. keadventure.com

Virginia Hilton Worldwide, theVirginia­based hospitality groupwith more than 4,000 propertiesworldwide, is to launch a newchain of hotels for travellers“who seek local discovery andauthentic experiences”. Ratherthan being managed by thegroup, members of what will becalled “Curio – A Collection byHilton” will remain independentlyowned and managed. The moveis designed to give guests moreindividuality while still offeringthe group’s loyalty programmeand guaranteed standards. Forthe hotels, it offers a chance togain access to Hilton’s globalmarketing and distributionchannels. hilton.com

Tom Robbins

traditional Ethiopian honey wine. Aman stood up and started thumpingout a metronomic beat on a keberodrum. “Shall I start this party withmy drums?” he sang, Endele translat-ing. “The sunshine is in my room!”

People got to their feet in that tinyspace, began shuffling around the fire,clapping, singing, leaping, turning,twisting. The dancers’ faces were nowrapt, transported. Then the ululationbegan, a trembling wave of sound thatseemed to fill every inch of that room.

I went outside. The wind was fiercenow, banging the shutters. Throughthe cracked wooden door, I could seethe dancers, flickering shadowsagainst the fire. They were singing inTigrayan, and the only word I couldunderstand was “Hallelujah”.

I went to the cliff and sat down, mylegs hanging over the edge into theabyss. From my vantage point I couldsee for maybe 30 miles yet there wasnot a single light.

Tomorrow, I would get stuck up acliff and disappoint Gebre, the localguide at Abuna Yemata Guh. ThenI would return to the world; my firsthot shower in a week at the stylishGheralta Lodge; a drive to the airportalong the fast Chinese-built roads thathave helped shrink the country anddrive a decade of Ethiopian economicgrowth; a boy would ask me about theAmerican wrestling he sees on TV –whether it is real or faked. For only insmall, shrinking pockets, such as theTigray highlands, can this still be con-sidered a country “forgetful of theworld by whom they were forgotten”.

But for now, I could just sit ona cliff, in the dark, listening to softvoices behind me singing “hallelu-jah”. In front of me, a huge crescentmoon lay recumbent on top of theAdwa mountains, glowing scarlet, likea big lazy grin.

so? Better get another 40balls, or maybe 400 . . . In thecubicle next to me, a manand his young son weresteadily thwacking theirstockpile out of sight; I toldhim it was my first time butthat I could start to see theappeal. “You can have theworst, coldest, blowiestround ever,” he said, “andat the end you’ll be think-ing, ‘Now when can I dothat again?’” My 13-year-old,beseeching me for anothersession on the range, wasclearly of a like mind.

Not that there was anyshortage of other activities:archery, a laser war game,

one of those treetop ropetrails. There are gyms, spatreatments and swimming,with pools at the main hoteland a big satellite clubhousecalled the Lodge. And steamrooms: you could spend aweekend steeping yourselfin different varieties ofleisure water.

After two nights, I feltclean, loose-limbed, glow-ing, a sleeker analogue ofthe jumpy stress-puppetwho’d fetched up on Fridaynight. The children, too,having resisted the exilefrom our metropolitan WiFicomfort zone on Friday,were begging by Sunday tostay longer. School andwork did not permit but, asthe train pulled away fromNewport, I wasn’t the onlyone thinking, “Now whencan I do that again?”

Short cuts

The Ham Yard Hotel in London

Details

Mike Carter was a guest of Journeysby Design (journeysbydesign.com),which offers a 10­night Tigray trip,combining four nights’ trekking, stayingin guesthouses, three nights atGheralta Lodge and three nights at therock churches of Lalibela, from $6,450per person including internal flights

The main Resort Hotel

Details

Neville Hawcock was a guestof Celtic Manor (celtic­manor.com). The HunterLodges sleep eight and costfrom £1,750 for a three­nightweekend break

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