I waltzed into Cairo blind.
No, not intoxicated. OK maybe slightly buzzed from cheap airline gin but blind without any preconception of Egypt. Even at the age of 26 I was still a naïve kid, some travel experience under my belt but nothing truly life changing.
Of all days to arrive I happened to choose the day that those who had made the holy journey to Mecca were arriving home. I expected Cairo airport to be lively but add a few hundred thousand pilgrims returning home from Hajj and you have one insane throng of bodies that provided the most unbelievable sense of not knowing where the hell you are. (Please excuse the blasphemy). Honest to god I was scared.
How could I not be?
Egypt proceeded to bitch slap me across the face to wake me up, threw a bucket of freezing cold water on me and then proceeded to startle me with the ear piercing joy cry of 'halalalalalala' from a thousand strong chorus of women waiting for their loved ones to emerge from the terminal. It took three hours to have our passports stamped, collect luggage and evacuate the cramped confines of the building. The whole time my senses were on edge. It felt like we were the only westerners in the world at that moment. It also felt to our virgin minds like we were about to witness a terrorist attack. This is what it looked like on the TV. We can't help to see flashes of images collated by the news media. People screaming and yelling in Arabic, crying tears that I later realized were tears of joy. It both scared me and weirdly aroused my senses at the same time.
You see to me travel is porn. No wait. Travel is more arousing than porn. The simultaneous sense of knowing exactly where you are but having not a clue is exciting and a massive mental turn on. Your true character comes out when you are in an environment that is worlds apart from your usual and for me it gives tingles and sensations in all the right places.
Two, three or even four people on camera fucking or urinating on each other does nothing for me. But a travel documentary will stir my loins in similar fashion to a sexy and curvaceous woman standing before me naked.
I had mixed emotions about my first impressions of Egypt. Petrified in the most wonderful way at the airport we were then led to the filth of the most horrible accommodations that I have ever endured. It was so terrifyingly bad that we had to sleep on the floor to avoid being eaten alive by bugs.
I am far from a 5 star traveller but this hotel was beyond horrific.
After a sleepless first night of itching and slapping I was convinced that the next few weeks were going to be consumed by concern for the welfare of my travel companion. She thoroughly surprised me by embracing the fear and sense of unknown, something entirely out of character for her.
We set out to discover Cairo. The only way I can describe this place is loud, busy and extremely colourful. I had done big city south east Asia but this was a different experience. It surprised me to see people from so many walks of life. I didn't so much feel like an alien. In fact many Egyptians I met had thought that I had Egyptian heritage. It felt warm and enviting for which I was thankful as I dove in head first.
This was my first time in the Middle East/North Africa unless you count Dubai (which I don't) and admittedly I expected Egyptians to be confrontational and slightly abrupt. I was pleasantly proved incorrect. They wanted to know everything about me and I about them.
Our exchange consisted of the currency of ideals and life experiences. At first I couldn't understand how my boring life in the suburbs of Melbourne could be of any interest to these people who live in one of the most fascinating places on earth, but I soon learnt about how incredibly painstaking and expensive it was for an Egyptian national to be allowed to leave the country's borders. They do not wish to escape. No, they are proud to be Egyptian. But they do want to experience different worlds out there which is something that we all take for granted. For us it feels like a right, when in fact it is a privelige of which others do not have the fortune.
Of course we shamefully did the touristy things. Pyramids, citadels, museums, cheesy photos. You know. The norm.
While it was a wonderful experience it was not my most memorable I can assure you.
While on board the overnight train to the south, sleeping with one eye open to ensure the safety of our luggage I met a small group of Nubian gentlemen while having a cigarette in the makeshift smoking area. We had no common language but we communicated well enough. At first one scared the shit out of me especially since he was brandishing a clearly visible hand gun in the front of his pants. I came to understand that he was a security of sorts who was hired by a tour group on the same carriage as us. After returning from a trip to the bathroom, or better described as something slightly resembling a toilet bowl surrounded by a few inch deep bath of piss, I was sitting in my seat when he walked past looked at me then looked at my bag and smiled in a phraseless commitment to care for my luggage throughout the journey.
Nothing like the kindness of strangers, especially ones who are strapped.
To be continued...
No, not intoxicated. OK maybe slightly buzzed from cheap airline gin but blind without any preconception of Egypt. Even at the age of 26 I was still a naïve kid, some travel experience under my belt but nothing truly life changing.
Of all days to arrive I happened to choose the day that those who had made the holy journey to Mecca were arriving home. I expected Cairo airport to be lively but add a few hundred thousand pilgrims returning home from Hajj and you have one insane throng of bodies that provided the most unbelievable sense of not knowing where the hell you are. (Please excuse the blasphemy). Honest to god I was scared.
How could I not be?
Egypt proceeded to bitch slap me across the face to wake me up, threw a bucket of freezing cold water on me and then proceeded to startle me with the ear piercing joy cry of 'halalalalalala' from a thousand strong chorus of women waiting for their loved ones to emerge from the terminal. It took three hours to have our passports stamped, collect luggage and evacuate the cramped confines of the building. The whole time my senses were on edge. It felt like we were the only westerners in the world at that moment. It also felt to our virgin minds like we were about to witness a terrorist attack. This is what it looked like on the TV. We can't help to see flashes of images collated by the news media. People screaming and yelling in Arabic, crying tears that I later realized were tears of joy. It both scared me and weirdly aroused my senses at the same time.
You see to me travel is porn. No wait. Travel is more arousing than porn. The simultaneous sense of knowing exactly where you are but having not a clue is exciting and a massive mental turn on. Your true character comes out when you are in an environment that is worlds apart from your usual and for me it gives tingles and sensations in all the right places.
Two, three or even four people on camera fucking or urinating on each other does nothing for me. But a travel documentary will stir my loins in similar fashion to a sexy and curvaceous woman standing before me naked.
I had mixed emotions about my first impressions of Egypt. Petrified in the most wonderful way at the airport we were then led to the filth of the most horrible accommodations that I have ever endured. It was so terrifyingly bad that we had to sleep on the floor to avoid being eaten alive by bugs.
I am far from a 5 star traveller but this hotel was beyond horrific.
After a sleepless first night of itching and slapping I was convinced that the next few weeks were going to be consumed by concern for the welfare of my travel companion. She thoroughly surprised me by embracing the fear and sense of unknown, something entirely out of character for her.
We set out to discover Cairo. The only way I can describe this place is loud, busy and extremely colourful. I had done big city south east Asia but this was a different experience. It surprised me to see people from so many walks of life. I didn't so much feel like an alien. In fact many Egyptians I met had thought that I had Egyptian heritage. It felt warm and enviting for which I was thankful as I dove in head first.
This was my first time in the Middle East/North Africa unless you count Dubai (which I don't) and admittedly I expected Egyptians to be confrontational and slightly abrupt. I was pleasantly proved incorrect. They wanted to know everything about me and I about them.
Our exchange consisted of the currency of ideals and life experiences. At first I couldn't understand how my boring life in the suburbs of Melbourne could be of any interest to these people who live in one of the most fascinating places on earth, but I soon learnt about how incredibly painstaking and expensive it was for an Egyptian national to be allowed to leave the country's borders. They do not wish to escape. No, they are proud to be Egyptian. But they do want to experience different worlds out there which is something that we all take for granted. For us it feels like a right, when in fact it is a privelige of which others do not have the fortune.
Of course we shamefully did the touristy things. Pyramids, citadels, museums, cheesy photos. You know. The norm.
While it was a wonderful experience it was not my most memorable I can assure you.
While on board the overnight train to the south, sleeping with one eye open to ensure the safety of our luggage I met a small group of Nubian gentlemen while having a cigarette in the makeshift smoking area. We had no common language but we communicated well enough. At first one scared the shit out of me especially since he was brandishing a clearly visible hand gun in the front of his pants. I came to understand that he was a security of sorts who was hired by a tour group on the same carriage as us. After returning from a trip to the bathroom, or better described as something slightly resembling a toilet bowl surrounded by a few inch deep bath of piss, I was sitting in my seat when he walked past looked at me then looked at my bag and smiled in a phraseless commitment to care for my luggage throughout the journey.
Nothing like the kindness of strangers, especially ones who are strapped.
To be continued...