Beyond the Horizon Into Afar

Standing on the rim of Erta Ale at midnight, the crater hissing and glowing below us, is something I will never forget. The team handled every permit, every camp and every pre-dawn start without a single hiccup.

Dallol looks like another planet — acid-green pools, sulfur chimneys, salt shaped like coral. Our Afar guide knew exactly where it was safe to walk and when to leave before the heat closed in.

Watching the salt caravans leave Lake Asale at first light, camels roped nose to tail, was the most quietly moving hour of our lives. We were welcomed, never gawked at, and that is down to how this team works with Afar communities.

Night in Hamed Ela under more stars than I knew existed, then out onto the salt flats before sunrise. Hot, raw and extraordinary — and somehow they kept us comfortable, fed and well watered the whole way.

I was nervous about the Danakil's reputation, but every vehicle, escort and camp was organised to the minute. We felt safe the entire time and could simply concentrate on the landscape.

Floating in the salt lake at Afrera, then cutting salt blocks with the workers on Asale — our guide made the Afar people and their history the heart of the trip, not just the scenery.

We added the Afar to the end of the Historic Route and it became the part everyone at home asks about. Going from Lalibela's churches to the lowest, hottest place in Africa in a few days was astonishing.

Climbing Erta Ale in the dark with camels carrying our gear, then sleeping on the crater rim to the sound of the volcano — unforgettable. The cooks produced proper meals in the middle of the desert.