we kill a dog on the drive back to Addis.. saw it happening.. big thud.. look back through rear window.. gone..  if it had been a cow or a goat, we probably would have slowed down but dogs have no value.. many are poisoned to control the population.. dogs cost money... pass two more dog road kill.. and then a cow road kill.. this is serious.. there will need to be compensation.. cows worth money.. I suggest we get out and negotiate some tre siga.. fresh road kill beef for our next meal.. but it's not the way.. road kill cow cannot be eaten.. because it died the wrong way, throat must be cut.. traditional belief.. this cow will be buried.. complete, intact.. no tre siga... no steak with pepper sauce and mushrooms.. no leather uppers.. we divert to meet G's uncle.. a coffee farmer.. who he reckons in 115 years old... remembers the Italians, Mussolini's army.. the invasion... he's probably in his mid 90's really.. still, almost twice the average life expectancy.. Addis at dusk.. back to Mebrate and Etetu.. sitting in the living room.. cup of hot chai waiting.. friendly and smiling.. comforting.. watching Iranian tv.. and a proper hot shower.. Wolitta dust washed away.. Bon Cafe.. for the free wifi, a pizza and St. George.. a world away..  see Addis prosperity reflected in the designer sunglasses.. smell the sweet perfume.. ferenji's and Ethiopian's with american accents drink wine together.. enjoying.. construction everywhere, new hotels, massive apartment complexes.. hope.. maybe the disapora, Ethiopia's own, are part of a solution.. at the airport.. Italian parents with their new son.. age 7 or 8.. he's going on a life journey.. can tell it's early day's, he's withdrawn.. polite.. shy.. as we take off.. quiet tears are wiped away from a first time mother's face as she finally takes her boy.. home.. to Rome. Ciao

jatropha nursery.. all the plants four months old attacked by pests.. community have diverted the water to irrigate their maize instead.. I'm seeing this all around.. farmers have no interest in growing biofuels.. what good is a crop if it can't be eaten? Something Global Energy Ethiopia have learned to their cost and the farmers.. three years ago .. maize crop had failed.. farmers excited at almost guaranteed prosperity .. but it didn't work out that way.. GEE have a sign up.. selling all their office equipment etc.. leaving Ethiopia now, like Sun Biofuel before them and Flora Eco before that.. biofuels have failed here.. on a grand scale.. as grand as their plans were.. to build factories for production, cultivate huge farms and work with outcroppers.. we go on a long drive to Lake Abaya.. through military barracks, remote, dusty roads, some parts rocky and steep.. pass the goat and cattle herders.. families burning charcoal.. living so far away from anywhere.. mind races on car journeys.. what must it be like, no cinema, or theatre, restaurants or bars.. no books to read or tv or www dot.. or water or electricity.. how soon before I would go crazy.. Pass huge tobacco farms.. "you are now entering Nyala cigarette country" I have an old pack in my bag.. perfect size to keep business cards in.. a long road comes to the end at lake Abaya, a state run farm.. tractors plough the fields 24/7.. workers on 12 hour shifts.. cotton land is brown now, harvesting time has passed.. banana land is vibrant green.. all the way down to the lake.. bananas bound for Addis supermarkets and exported through Djibouti.  We accept the offer of scotch with the farm manager before we leave.. straight for me, with Ambo for G.. he likes to mix it.. I buy some Gouder wine with dinner for everyone.. it's the end.. and have a particularly good spaghetti bolognese..  and watch in horror as G pours half a bottle of coke into his wine glass.. like kalimotxo in Pamplona.. the half & half man strikes again.. we meet up with @Concern local staff and hit a local bar.. more Gouder.. waiter brings a jug.. wants to pour in the wine and coke.. I step in to save the Gouder from becoming badder.. we tell jokes.. I tell the one about the Zebra who doesn't know if he is a white or black zebra.. it's Geoff's joke really.. would I like to dance? Yes.. Like an Ethiopian.? Dunno, but will give it a try.. all laughing at me.. someone shouts "I love you ferenji!" as I walk by.. and as I dance, I am relieved of my sunglasses as they take a walk with a stranger into the dark night..

i insist on a 6.30am start.. sense unease with driver and G.. no breakfast.. just go.. I must get the good light.. bananas.. buy 20 for 11 birr, @55 cent.  bring some for local children.. Offa woreda.. farmers ploughing with oxen in the far away distance.. poor farmers working for cash.. meet Tumato, a farmer names after a tomato.. I wonder will I meet Mr. Banana and Miss Mango.. area is heaving with both.. he's the grand old age of 85.. a bee keeper.. says honey is the secret to a long life.. shows me where his house was.. in the valley that's now totally degraded from soil erosion.. make a picture of him as his head scarf flutters in the breeze.  Tre siga for lunch.. a platter of raw beef.. half a kilo of it G ordered from the butchery.. I taste.. eat at Gutara conference centre.. again.. every day.. packed at lunch with students.. fasting time of year for the Christian orthodox community.. some salivate at the G's local delicacy.. should be eaten with tej.. honey wine.. but no wine..  but.. Umbushe, mother of five feeds family with 3kg of maize flour and 2kg of haricot beans and cabbage from her farm. I go with her to the market to see what the daily food looks like.. and with the plan to buy it but we get mobbed. Surrounded by crowd of about 30 people initially.. then more and more.. so close, hard to even open the car door.. ferenji's not so common around Wolitta.. still, I follow Umbushe... get to the maize & haricot bean sellers.. circle of curious faces all around.. too close to feel comfortable.. can't move.. people standing on the beans now.. women sellers getting angry.. start throwing small stones at us.. time to leave.. without making a picture.. March.. the start of potentially food insecurity in the area.. all depends on the rain now.. it rains every day since I arrive...kind considerate rain, only falls as dusk does.. Mathewos.. Concern project officer is convinced I am a rain maker..

On the road with G... route stop off at the NOC mart to fill up with gas.. the truck and fill up with injera..our bellies. macchiato with milk.. sugary. I think about how I drink away.. things I never do at home.. coffee with milk and sugar.. coca-cola and beer.. the 'on assignment' liquid diet.. passing golden domes of harvested tef.. hard working donkeys, five of them, could barely see their noses with the loads of straw they were carrying.. in Worabe town.. women are covered, colourful mosque.. we buy bananas.. eat.. talking about Lybia.. north Africa.. all the uprisings.. G met Gaddafi in the 1980's when he visited Ethiopia.. G was in the army, sent to the airport to tell Gaddafi that he couldn't meet Ethiopian president as arranged.. took 15 minutes... private talk.. Gaddafi was crazy.. even then.. flew in two military planes with 250 soldiers & armored vehicles to Addis for protection during state visit... Ethiopia brought out 350 men and surrounded the planes.. that's how you do it. Wolitta ..end of the road for today.. hotel.. wants 200 birr for me for but only 120 for the Ethiopian.. is this discrimination? is it socialism? do I get any perks for my extra 80 birr.. hot towels.. cool bottled water.. no.. foreigners use more water hotel says.. G is a consumer rights activist with parts of a bullet still lodged in his head from a shooting in the 70's in Eritrea.. stress affects his nerve endings.. tells the hotel manager to keep his rooms..and we find a guest house.. called Guest House.. 100 birr each... 

..as I start my Simon Cumbers MCF supported Ethiopian journey tomorrow which will take me on a road trip, I am reminded of an old Ethiopian story that I heard the first time I arrived here nine years ago. A dog, a goat and a donkey get on a bus, the bus journey is 5 birr, so the dog gives the bus driver 10 birr but he doesn't get any change, the goat skips onto the bus without paying anything hoping the driver won't notice her and the donkey pays his 5 birr fair and square. So, over the next week, when i see the dog chasing our 4x4 down the streets, the goats running away and the donkey just standing in front of it, I'll think of this little tale..

This August one of my images from Ethiopia will be hanging in HOST gallery in London as part of Foto8 Summershow. The image, of a father and daughter threshing wheat using donkeys was taken in January 2010 in Addei, Northern Ethiopia. The Summershow -an annual even which kicks off wit a big street party- features over 150 photographs and takes place throughout August and all the prints are for sale. 

The latest issue of the online photography magazine 100Eyes features photographs on the theme of "Home". Amongst the work of 9 other photographers, the current issue features my work from the Shadowlands series I am currently shooting on the empty housing estates and mansions around Ireland. many thanks to Andy Levin for choosing the work and for curating the magazine. Enjoy leafing through it!

Tomorrow night I'm heading to Portlaoise to open an exhibition of photographs by John Lalor at the Aras an Chontae. "Third World Eyes" is a photographic journey across three continents that John embarked on in 2008. John was a student on my documentary photography course in April 2010. He brought his portfolio into the Gallery of Photography on the first night and showed some images that will be appearing in the exhibition. The photograph of the little girl from a village in Nepal was the one I remembered the most. Despite her dirty face and  scruffy hair, she is still beautiful in her little pink dress. Nothing, not even poverty can take that away. I thought of Steve McCurry's Afghan girl and told John about his work and his book South Southeast which I remember saving up the money to buy almost (gulp!) ten years ago. I took it back down from the shelf  the other day and remember how I was mesmerized by his perfect composition in the photograph of the fishermen from Sri Lanka, by the decisive moments he captured in so many of the images like the doves outside the mosque in Mazar-e Sharif in Afghanistan or the man in Agra standing in a stream with water falling from his hand into a spectacular reflection of the Taj Mahal. Then there were the colours, those colours that only come out after rain, especially in Jodhpur, never did chili pepper red and sky blue go so well together. I wish John every success in his photographic career and hope he never has to sew rolls of film into his clothes as he negotiates unsafe borders in dangerous places.