At the shrine of Lucy

Lucy. Such a seemingly innocent soul. The journey to reach her complex. But oh, was she well worth it.

This is a journey that began almost two years ago. In January 2023, we received an invitation from the Institute of Human Origins to help design an Ethiopian adventure as part of the 50th anniversary of the discovery of one of our rockstar hominins, Lucy.

It was a trip that instantly tugged at my heart. While visiting the States last September, I met with Lucy’s discoverer, the paleoanthropologist Professor Don Johanson, for dinner and jazz in his club in San Francisco. I had to have a jacket and tie arranged for me, and as we sat listening to jazz, we shared stories that linked us together through collective experiences and common alliances. My Leakey childhood link and photographers Beckwith and Fisher, my simple natural history museum at home (a small offering to the ancient world and stories told by rocks and artefacts), and a mutual love of curiosity.

Lucy is one of the most complete skeletons of Australopithecus afarensis known. At 3.2 million years old, she is much older than the 50 years since she was unearthed. One of our toughest assignments yet — emotionally, operationally, and financially — I have spent some time trying to understand why I was drawn to the project. The truth is, we engaged with and fought for this moment for various reasons.

First, I am deeply drawn to the idea that Lucy was discovered in the lowlands of Hadar in November 1974 — the month and year I turned three, living in the highlands of Addis. Something about this haunting child and daughter draws me to my own childhood, a sense of innocence, and of the deep and long arc of time.

Second, I realised how important the trip was for our Wild Expeditions team. 100% Ethiopian-run, it has been battling for years to recover from Covid and civil unrest and keep the team and their dream alive. This one booking represented a significant financial and motivational win for us. We all fought hard for Lucy.

A change of plan

At the time of my dinner with Prof Johansson, the political landscape in northern Ethiopia was enormously complicated. The crash of the travel market in 2020 had by then been compounded by the outbreak of civil war in Tigray in 2022, and just when we thought we were beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel, unrest broke out in Amhara.

Our original route had plotted a careful course through the Amhara highlands, Timket in Gondar, the gelada in the Simien Mountains, and Lake Tana. When we knew Fano militia was in the ascendant, we sent a research team to produce a first-hand account of security in the north, which concluded that the journey could be made safely. However, I couldn’t rest. There were too many unknowns and the group was far too large to coordinate quickly and effectively in the event of a crisis. We decided to pull the northern journey two months before departure, which turned out to be the right decision: the Fano raided Gondar the day the journey was set to start and Timket was effectively cancelled a week before the epiphany.

Unable to travel north, we headed south to the safer (but by no means easier) zones of the Omo Valley, travelling deep into corners of the Omo I have never visited before in the hands of Graeme Lemon and his Mursi team.

We started at Chen Camp set on the eastern banks of the Omo River, further upstream than we have ever ventured before, on the edge of the Tama wildlife reserve, sandwiched between Omo and Mago National Parks, where the wildlife populations are relatively healthy. The river had recently flooded and all the Mursi were planting sorghum, displacing any wildlife along the river banks. Hot, sweaty, and at the edge of our comfort zones, we explored this little-known and delightful corner of the world.

We followed this with our own Lale’s Camp, which is partly owned by Wild Expeditions. It is still 100% run by the local Kara and overseen by the wonderful Adja. Relatively luxurious, the camp felt like an oasis after Chen Camp, and it was wonderful to see how far the team has come since my last visit — the Wild Expeditions impact investment we made back in 2014 is working a treat.

Pilgrimage to Hadar

Turning our faces north, we began the main pilgrimage to Hadar in the middle of the Awash basin of the Danakil in northeastern Ethiopia. We flew to Semera in our private charter Ethiopian Airlines Bombardier 400, where we were met by the Ministry of Tourism and lots of dancing and Lucy posters — Prof Johannson is a national hero. We then drove the four hours to Hadar along the asphalt road heading southwest, before turning onto a small dirt track in the village of EliWoha and descending into the bowels of the earth, where diggings have exposed a 3.8 million-year sediment profile.

This is what we had all been working towards. We researched the site on three occasions to make sure we weren’t sitting on top of ancient fossil beds, planned what to do with water and waste, and met the local research team who were on site. Hadar is a barren wasteland by all measures and one of the hottest places on earth. The Awash River offered some relief from the intensity and also connected me with some of my upstream history — I spent a year in Awash National Park just after university. It felt good to be united again with the Awash and those early memories.

Setting up camp

We arrived in our mobile camp on the banks of the Awash River with 20 uninvited police, who had accompanied us from EliWoha. They instantly took over, lounging around in our mess tent. Pushy militia and armed guards are nothing new in the Danakil, but the scale of it took me slightly by surprise. The guests were a little taken aback, but we managed to settle the scene and reduce police numbers in camp. The heat set in and the temperatures rose. We swam in the Awash despite the crocodile. Lucy was seriously testing our resolve.

We were all (the remaining police included) comforted by the set-up of camp and the mess. All the equipment in camp was significant for a party of 26 people. Much of it was purchased new from Kenya for the trip. The visit by IHO effectively financed the camp, which we now have at our disposal to use elsewhere in Ethiopia. We now only need to find a suitable use for all this canvas equipment.

Celebrating Lucy

The morning finally arrived when, on the 25th of January, ten land cruisers trundled out of Hadar camp towards the shrine of Lucy.

We drove 20 minutes from camp along dry river beds and sandy hills before parking at the foot of a small series of looming outcrops. We began a slow climb up the hills along a precipitous and crumbling sand path, finally cresting the brow about 30 minutes later. There, set in a small shallow depression is a cement plinth recognising the site of the discovery of Lucy. However, it isn’t quite the right site and Prof Johanson showed us the true location a few metres further down the depression, layered over with castaway cement.

And so Don began the story of his discovery in 1974. This probably being his last visit to Hadar, he became understandably emotional at times. It was a true honour to listen to this man, with his great knowledge and masterful storytelling, sharing one of his greatest triumphs. We stood around him and leaned in. The wind picked up and the sand swirled.

After an hour on the hill, we turned around and made our long way back home. I couldn’t help but reflect on the idea of us going home whilst leaving behind an image of Lucy, at a delicate four feet tall, in what is arguably one of the most spiritual homelands of early humanity.

It hadn’t been easy reaching Lucy, but it was more than worth the effort.

If you’d like to discuss travel in Ethiopia, please get in touch with Will or a member of our exploration team. While it can prove difficult with the unrest, a trip to many of this country’s extraordinary landscapes is very much possible with the right planning and team.