I flew a few times with Ethiopian back in the days of Comrade Menguistu. They were one of the few ways for a student to get down to Zimbabwe and Zambia. You stopped in Addis Abbaba and transferred planes. They would lay out all the luggage on the apron by the aircraft, and you had to identify your own luggage and carry it to the baggage handler to load into the hold. Of course my backpack wasn’t there, so after quite a bit of discussion I was shown the back of a truck. On no Africa wins again I thought. Nope just driven to central baggage hall. Quickly identified my bag. Loaded into the truck back to the aeroplane and carried on southwards. I spend most of a flight looking out the window. It was at the time of the build up for the first Gulf War and you could see military transport after transport flying below.
I spent two months working in Ethiopia in 1988. My overwhelming memory was of a fascinating country with amazing people, but in a strangle hold of a communist dictator. In the company of a young Ethiopian engineer called Nelson, and a driver I spent most of those weeks travelling the length of the Awash river counting rivers flowing into it and every canal and irrigation off take. Mostly the river flowed through virgin bush and desert with the odd farm and a handful of irrigation schemes. Its now pretty much developed the whole length.
We had one evening sitting around a fire down in the Danikal depression with a load of Afar tribesmen (all in loin cloths, wollen cloaks, big knives and AK47s) and their camels with a film projector projecting James Bond onto the white wall of the compound in which were staying and all laughing at the same parts of the film.