Atebella lies among the farmlands that stretch south-west of Sebeta, and what there is to say about it is really a description of the countryside. The plateau here is a patchwork of small plots, divided by hedges of cactus and euphorbia, and dotted with trees whose silhouettes look like umbrellas. It is a landscape shaped by generations of smallholders, and in the early morning, with the sun low and the mist lying in the hollows, it looks as though it has hardly changed in a century. Cattle with long horns are driven along the road by boys with sticks.
One of the most visible features of the highlands is the eucalyptus. It is not native; the trees were brought from Australia in the late nineteenth century at the time of Emperor Menelik II, who moved his capital to the site of Addis Ababa and found that the surrounding hills had been stripped of firewood. The fast-growing eucalyptus solved the problem, and now it is everywhere, in tall stands that scent the air with menthol. They are also used to build scaffolding, a surprising sight in the city, where scaffold poles are often bundles of eucalyptus lashed with rope.
The roads here are a test of concentration. Even the paved ones are shared by carts, minibuses and pedestrians, and drivers use their horns constantly. Pace yourself, and treat each blind corner as if a donkey might be waiting behind it. On the gravel tracks, a good eye for the surface is essential, especially after rain, when the red clay becomes treacherous. Altitude will reduce power, and a light bike may suffer more than a heavy one. It is cooler than you might expect for a country so near the equator, with temperatures in the teens and twenties during the day, and cold at night.
Sebeta, about twenty kilometres away, is the nearest town for fuel and supplies, and Addis Ababa lies beyond. Take water, a spare tube if you have a small bike, and a little cash in small notes. Cafes in villages serve tea with sugar, bread and sometimes a bowl of shiro, a thick chickpea stew eaten with injera. The evenings come quickly, around six, and the sunsets over the plateau are red and gold. It is a place to look and listen, and a reminder that most of the world lives in places like this.