Lake Abbé is, without question, one of the strangest and most beautiful landscapes in Africa. Around a salt lake on the Ethiopian border rises a forest of limestone chimneys up to fifty metres tall, which at sunrise and sunset release columns of steam through their cracks. The smoke, the low-angled light, the absolute silence and the silhouettes of camels among the towers create a scene so unreal it looks like science fiction.
For decades people said 'Planet of the Apes' (1968) was filmed here. It is actually a myth —the film was shot in the western United States—, but the landscape is so Martian that the legend makes sense and lives on among guides and travellers. What is true is that this corner of the Afar Triangle, where the Awash River dies in a series of lakes, is one of the continent's great geological spectacles, home to flamingos, Afar herders and the same tectonic forces that shape all of Djibouti.
This guide tells you how to visit Lake Abbé: the long 4x4 journey from the capital via Dikhil, what the chimneys are like and why they smoke, when to go to see sunrise and sunset at their best, what it is like to sleep in an Afar camp in the middle of nowhere and how to combine it with Lake Assal on the great natural circuit of southern Djibouti.
Lake Abbé is the last in a chain of lakes where the Awash River ends, right in the Afar Triangle. Its famous limestone chimneys formed underwater, when the lake was much larger: hydrothermal springs precipitated calcium carbonate (travertine) that gradually built up into towers. As the water receded —partly because of the climate, partly because the Awash is used for irrigation in Ethiopia—, the chimneys were exposed, smoking from the geothermal activity of the rift. The place is sacred and vital to the Afar herders. The full geological and human history is on our history page.
Read the full history ↓Steam chimneys in a lunar landscape, endless plains and crossroads towns near Ethiopia: southern Djibouti is the country's most desert-like and cinematic corner.
Read the history of The desert south: Lake Abbé and the Grand Bara →No exact prices: a scale from $ (budget) to $$$$$ (luxury), with 2-3 options per category.
Origins, formation and what the sources say.
Lake Abbé is the end point of a long journey: that of the Awash River, which rises in the Ethiopian highlands and, instead of reaching the sea, disappears into the desert of the Afar Triangle. The Awash drains into a chain of salt lakes (the Abhe or Abbé lakes) with no outlet to the ocean, in one of the lowest and hottest depressions on the planet. It is an endorheic river, doomed to evaporate, and Lake Abbé is its grave: a large, flat-bottomed expanse of salt water straddling Djibouti and Ethiopia.
This region is part of the Afar Triangle, the triple junction where the African, Somali and Arabian plates pull apart and where the Earth's crust thins and fractures. These tectonic forces explain two key features of Lake Abbé. One is the sunken depression where the water collects. The other is the intense geothermal heat underground, which warms springs and feeds the hydrothermal vents behind the area's most famous landscape.
Over thousands of years, the lake's level has risen and fallen enormously. In wetter periods it was a huge inland sea. In dry periods like today's, it has shrunk to a fraction of its size. That rise and fall, together with the hot, mineral-rich water welling up from below, is what shaped the limestone chimneys that amaze travellers today.
The smoking towers that make Lake Abbé famous are travertine chimneys, a form of limestone (calcium carbonate). They formed underwater, when the lake was much larger and deeper than it is today. On the lake bed, hydrothermal vents released hot, calcium-rich water. When that water met the lake water, the carbonate precipitated and settled around the mouths of the vents, layer upon layer. Over thousands of years it built columns that kept growing upwards. Some reach fifty metres in height.
The lake level then dropped, because of a drier climate and, in modern times, because water from the Awash is diverted for irrigation in Ethiopia. The chimneys that had formed underwater were left exposed, standing in the desert like a stone forest. The rift's geothermal heat still warms the groundwater, which seeps through cracks in the chimneys and escapes as steam. That is why the columns steam, especially at dawn when the air is cold, giving the place its otherworldly atmosphere.
The process has not fully stopped: hot springs still bubble up beside the chimneys, and the landscape is living evidence of the rift's geology. Other travertine fields around the world formed in a similar way. But the scale, the height of the towers and the desert border setting make Lake Abbé a unique and spectacular case.
Few African landscapes carry a legend as stubborn as Lake Abbé's. For decades, guidebooks, blogs, newspapers and above all Djiboutian guides themselves have repeated that 'Planet of the Apes', the 1968 film, was shot here. In truth, it is a myth. The film's producers never left the western United States, where every scene was filmed. There is no real link between the film and Djibouti.
The confusion is easy to understand. With its steaming chimneys, cracked ground and mineral look, Lake Abbé bears an astonishing resemblance to the way cinema has always imagined an alien planet or a post-apocalyptic world. The comparison with 'another planet' comes so naturally that the filming story caught on and became part of the tourist narrative, even though it is false. It is true, though, that the site has been used as a location for documentaries and productions looking for extraterrestrial landscapes.
Myth aside, Lake Abbé fully deserves its fame. Along with Lake Assal, it is Djibouti's great natural icon and appears in almost every tourism campaign for the country. Its geological rarity, light, silence and life (flamingos, camels, Afar herders) make it one of those sights travellers remember for the rest of their lives, apes or no apes.
Lake Abbé is not an empty desert. It is the land of the Afar people, nomadic herders who have crossed these extreme lands with their herds of camels and goats since time immemorial. For them, the area's springs and scarce pastures are vital resources, and the place holds deep cultural value. The camps of Afar huts (toukoul) that now house the few tourists who make it here are both a traditional way of life and a modest source of income for local families.
Lake Abbé's balance is fragile and under pressure. Upstream in Ethiopia, the Awash River is heavily used for farming. Its reduced flow has lowered the lake's level and threatens the ecosystem on which flamingos and other birds, the fish along its shores and the Afar herds all depend. Climate change and recurring droughts make things worse in one of the driest and hottest regions in the world.
Tourism, still in its very early days, is both an opportunity and a risk. Managed well, it can give economic value to protecting the landscape and benefit Afar communities. Managed badly, it can damage a delicate environment. The Djiboutian authorities promote Lake Abbé as the country's natural jewel and ask visitors for respect. That means leaving no litter, not damaging the chimneys and treating the families who live here with dignity. In this extraordinary corner of the world, the Earth still seems to be under construction.
