Things to Do in Lalibela

Lalibela wakes before dawn. The first call to prayer drifts over the escarpment. The air smells of eucalyptus smoke from breakfast fires. You'll see priests in white cotton shuffle down uneven paths. Their silver crosses catch the early light. Barefoot pilgrims murmur prayers that echo off the rock-hewn walls. The town sits at 2 600 m. Even at midday the sun feels crisp. The red earth crunches under your sandals like broken pottery. In the market quarter the scent of berbere and roasting coffee beans wrestles with the sour note of fermenting tej. Kids chase each other between stalls. Stalls are stacked with fluorescent plastic shoes and hand-woven baskets. Come evening, the sky bruises to a deep violet. The muezzin's final call blends with the low hum of beeswax candles inside Bet Giyorgis. You might find yourself standing in silence. Incense lingers on the back of your tongue.

Lalibela's restaurants cluster on the lane linking the two church clusters. Expect tibs sizzling in black clay pans. You'll hear the hiss of mitmita hitting fat. At the terrace called 'Unique' you'll look straight down onto Bet Giyorgis. Nibble crunchy dabo kolo and sip tart tej poured from a berele. For breakfast follow priests to the tin-roof shack across from the post office. Women ladle perpetual injera over smouldering fires. The coffee smells of orange peel. Dinner splurge options sit uphill on the road to the airport. Grilled river fish arrives with glowing charcoal embers. Prices only slightly above town average.

Dry season from October to March gives cobalt skies. Dawn temperatures can flirt with freezing. Pack layers. July and August bring green terraces good for photographs. Afternoon downpours turn paths to slick clay. Clouds can hide the sunset glow on the stone. September merges the best of both: wildflowers after the rains, fewer tour groups, and the colourful Meskel festival. You may wait an extra day if heavy rain has delayed flights into the mountain strip.