The neon sign read 'Pizza!'
in English, Amharic and Somali.
By that I deduced that I could perhaps get a pizza.
The waitress looked confused.
I drank my papaya and fly juice and thought no more of it.
Later, at the Ras Hotel, enjoying a slightly suspect plate of goat tibs and rice (Yey! Rice not injera!)
A different but incredibly friendly waitress emerged with not the bill that I’d asked for about an hour
ago (I’d already had two menus and a spoon) but two slices of incredibly stale....cake!
It’s kindness like that, makes me like a destination and overlook the fact that well, the town, to be blunt is a bit crap.
The Ras seems to have a resident cat attached. Sleek, gorgeous and aloof he’s completely at odds
with the local population.
I watched as he gave a woman begging whilst holding her baby upside down a disdainful look.
I did the time honoured 'puss puss puss' thing and attempted to lure him in with some goat.
He shot me a withering glance and stalked off into the evening.