It’s not a big country and the drive from Djibouti City to Obock takes you through most of it, tracing around the Gulf of Tajdoura. The landscape is surreal, literally looking like the Earth has opened up and spilled its insides. I’ve read somewhere that this is the hottest place on Earth, or maybe it was the driest? At any rate, you could be forgiven for thinking that you are arriving at the end of the world. Is there really a town at the end of this unforgiving desperately empty and dry land?
And then – finally – approaching Obock, a sign of life as we see people walking the road, heading out into the nothingness we’ve just come through, carrying bags. Not much further and there is the camp, a huge gated compound with rows and rows of hundreds of tents. The camp has existed for less than a year, set up when Yemenis started fleeing their country in the midst of the war there, but it already has nearly three thousand refugees.
