My Amhara Tribesmen

I sailed across the atlantic ocean in my twin masted white yacht whilst the scorching sun sizzled making me feel very hot . To discover an uninhabited Island well that was my animus intention, in my solitary silence that private place would be pure perfection . I stood in anticipation with one eye on my spyglass searching for civilisation on the stone’s throw shoreline landmass

I hunted for well over an hour or more scrutinising and scanning the shore but nothing seemed in the land of the living to my utter contentment and tremendous thanksgiving . so encouraged with my view I anchored my vessel and swam to the sand with the minimum of wrestle . Silvery shingle was this beautiful beaches boast as the sweltering sunshine was as warm as toast . So ecstatically elated I strolled sinking in the quicksand when from out of the blue from within wild woodland .Tattooed, shaven heads sprung out from Baobab tall trees with crazy, coloured garbs that made me freeze . Oh my God what had I done as I stood looking like a lemon without a shotgun

Immediately and without a moment of thought well I put my hands up in the air feeling overwrought. Chanting and cheering in excited confabulation greeted my senses of flummoxed frustration . Then a monster of a man walked out of the crowd, I guessed twas, the Master of the men as he puffed out his chest proud . To my utter absolute disbelief this painted warrior was the Great Grand Amhara Chief . His sound was not in a threat as he spoke his native-tongue conversation nor did I have a clue on it’s interpretation . Yet as I was carried in the strong arms of these mean looking Amhara men, I realised my consternation was all in vain..