there is no such thing as bad weather... only bad coats.
16.9.11
15.9.11
5.9.11
silence in sweden
one of my mind wanderings during the last 10 days of silence took me back to cairo.
my last night in cairo Hamed and i went back to a popular side street for tea, shisha and chatting. one of his friends joined us with his korean wife. a blind fire swallower entertained and vendors tried to sell belts, peanuts, and dvds. Hamed and the young korean woman left the table to get more tea. Hamed's friend leaned across the tiny table ... can i ask you something that has been bugging me all evening? sure, go ahead. have you ever had plastic surgery? oh no. how awful is this going to feel, what is he going to tell me needs fixing? - ah, no, why? your nose. it's perfect.
i was stunned. then i laughed. i have always thought the bridge of my nose was a bit horse-like with the diamond-shaped bump in the bone. and my nose ends in a ball at the tip.
it was very hard to leave cairo.
the few days i spent walking the streets in stockholm were good prep for the silent retreat. no eye contact, no hellos, nothing communicative at all.
today, after 9 hours by car and 20 minutes by boat, i arrived in oslo. oslo immediately felt more likeable ... dark, edgy. walking to the hostel i passed the Habibi Cafe. Habibi is arabic for 'my darling'. one of the guys standing outside said hello. he wasn't norwegian. hello i said with a big smile.
my last night in cairo Hamed and i went back to a popular side street for tea, shisha and chatting. one of his friends joined us with his korean wife. a blind fire swallower entertained and vendors tried to sell belts, peanuts, and dvds. Hamed and the young korean woman left the table to get more tea. Hamed's friend leaned across the tiny table ... can i ask you something that has been bugging me all evening? sure, go ahead. have you ever had plastic surgery? oh no. how awful is this going to feel, what is he going to tell me needs fixing? - ah, no, why? your nose. it's perfect.
i was stunned. then i laughed. i have always thought the bridge of my nose was a bit horse-like with the diamond-shaped bump in the bone. and my nose ends in a ball at the tip.
it was very hard to leave cairo.
the few days i spent walking the streets in stockholm were good prep for the silent retreat. no eye contact, no hellos, nothing communicative at all.
today, after 9 hours by car and 20 minutes by boat, i arrived in oslo. oslo immediately felt more likeable ... dark, edgy. walking to the hostel i passed the Habibi Cafe. Habibi is arabic for 'my darling'. one of the guys standing outside said hello. he wasn't norwegian. hello i said with a big smile.
16.8.11
12.8.11
speaking of baobabs
today was less gloomy and wet than it has been all week, so i decided to get out for lunch. i was waiting on the road for a matatu and a little white car stopped. did i want a ride? i don't expect that in this neighbourhood - too snooty. i accepted. a british writer/lawyer/conservationist living in kenya for 30 years. i asked about his writing. his last effort was a book about baobabs. i love baobabs.
i got out at the shopping mall and walked to the Rusty Nail for lunch. beautiful setting and interesting menu. i decided on the khaloumi/red pepper/zucchini kebab with brown rice. the service was attentive and the food delicious.... unlike the experience of the reviewers.
after lunch i went across the street to the Souq. so many lovely things. i settled on two little bracelets.
3 hours later i am back behind my computer. shhhh
30.7.11
house hunting in juba
we need another house. we have more people than accommodation and have been spending much too much on hotels, which are stupidly expensive at $150/full board/night, and they certainly are not even a match for Howard Johnson's.
house hunting is certainly an interesting experience. the houses are in various stages of completion, and most are being lived in by the labourers, family, friends, squattors. so you have to really use your imagination to see the potential.
and most of the houses are orange, or a shade of orange. the city must have received a massive shipment of orange paint.
one house that looks quite promising unfortunately is next to the house of a military commander who has 15 bodyguards. when our research turned up that info, we decided we weren't so interested anymore.
we also got quite excited about one compound that had a large building that we could use for logistics storage... but then our enthusiasm faded as we toured the rest of the buildings. one building had 2 large bedrooms, but no bathroom. the bathroom was outside near the gate, not so good for a night time trip to the toilet. the main house had a huge central living room and 4 huge bedrooms around this room. everything about this place was huge. all 4 bedrooms were huge, the largest was ensuite with a huge bathroom that had a jacuzzi. this seemed silly since water is precious and electricity rare. and the bedroom was more like a ballroom than a bedroom. the bathroom for the other 3 .... was outside by the gate. and the kitchen, where was the kitchen? oh, if you want a kitchen we will attach one here on the outside. in can be ready in no time. the price for this silliness was $10,000/month.
another 5 bedroom house had one ensuite and 2 without toilet... and again, the bathroom was in a stand alone building, a good size, but next to the front gate; also to be shared with 2 other bedrooms in a separate building. price - $6,500/month
another very promising 4 bedroom is finished, bright, and only $5,000/month. it also has a good bathroom set-up. but it is referred to as the house with the stream as it seems to flood with the rains. this area used to be a swamp.
we're still looking.
26.7.11
warrior security - at your service
we all accept that hired cooks will eat your food and that night guards will sleep on the job. but there are always 2 guards on duty at night, so at least be smart about it and sleep in shifts.
before going to bed i went outside to turn off the generator. there was no one about. i wandered around looking for them. i found them both in the guard shed, slouched low in their chairs, their rain ponchos zipped up over the tops of their heads. i stood there flashing my torch at them, lightly punched the closest in the arm. no movement. punched again... he slowly came to and ever so slowly lowered the zipper and poked his head out.
no madam we are not sleeping.
you f*ckers. i asked them how they can guard when they can't bloody see out of their jackets. i went inside and phoned their supervisor. i was furious... the fact that they were both at it, stone cold out, and it took 2 punches. and, it was only 10pm.
their super did show last night and listened to my complaint. he said he would come back a few times during the night to check on the guys.
came in to the office this morning to find out that they had been given their final warning.
new guards tonite.
23.7.11
the search continues
we are testing more potential drivers today. a few weeks ago Nancy came in for the written test... and she can't read or write English. i then realized that you don't necessarily need to read or write English in order to drive. we gave her the test verbally and then took her for the practical driving test, and it turned out that she couldn't drive either.
5 more candidates are in today for practical driving tests. hopefully something will come of these tests.
and i have moved into the director's house for the final two weeks. they left for their annual vacation, and my room was needed for a longer term person. i took my first walk to work from the house this morning. I turned the first corner after our high-walled guarded compound and the first thing i saw was a small blue wooden shack with a few people standing around. a young guy was making up chapatis. we had a little chat and i will drop by for breakfast tomorrow. then i had to negotiate a huge mud puddle. i met an old lady half-way... she had longer legs so i think she managed more easily, even tho i had hiking boots and she had flip flops. mud tukuls, wooden shacks, friendly people and the new flag flying from every rooftop. a nice walk.
16.6.11
I never would have imagined
... but I am back in Juba, for a third time.
Today I am doing one of my favorite tasks… going through CVs. We have 5 open positions.
One reference check we received for a potential candidate, who at first looks quite good, suggests that maybe he might not be a good choice.
In your opinion what are the identified weaknesses of the applicant?
Dr. XX has no known weakness as far as I know. But as naturally as a human being, one weakness in him is that he is a man of greener pastures always. This means that whatever quality training you give him do not very much depend on him for he can easily decide to leave you and without prior notification.
Another hopeful candidate applying to be a driver lists his personal attributes as:
• Self motion
• Law abiding citizen
• God feared man
Another's hobbies:
• Socialization to all sex
• Soccer fun/Lover
• Watching movies (wonder what kind?)
One candidate that we are quite excited to interview for the position of driver/mechanic is Nancy – a young woman!
Today I am doing one of my favorite tasks… going through CVs. We have 5 open positions.
One reference check we received for a potential candidate, who at first looks quite good, suggests that maybe he might not be a good choice.
In your opinion what are the identified weaknesses of the applicant?
Dr. XX has no known weakness as far as I know. But as naturally as a human being, one weakness in him is that he is a man of greener pastures always. This means that whatever quality training you give him do not very much depend on him for he can easily decide to leave you and without prior notification.
Another hopeful candidate applying to be a driver lists his personal attributes as:
• Self motion
• Law abiding citizen
• God feared man
Another's hobbies:
• Socialization to all sex
• Soccer fun/Lover
• Watching movies (wonder what kind?)
One candidate that we are quite excited to interview for the position of driver/mechanic is Nancy – a young woman!
22.5.11
Today's laugh
Christine and I were hanging over the balcony and watching all the action below. We were talking about the economic situation since the revolution. I pointed over to the shops across the street.
Look at all those dolls! How many dolls do you think they can possibly sell in a day?
Dolls? I think those are mannequins.
Mannequins? Ah, yeah, maybe you're right. I felt pretty silly.
17.5.11
Eilat
I was going to spend another few days in the Negev desert, but I woke up this morning and instead got on the first bus to Eilat. Before the bus arrived, a taxi pulled up, offering a ride at the same fare as the bus. He already had a passenger and the backseat was empty. Nice. Half the driving time.
Found Corinne's Hostel. Corinne gave me an abrasive intro and showed me the room. A thin mat on a hard board. Sticky light switch. Not much love here.
Next I got directions to the Egyptian Consulate... and I took off. I was greeted with a warm smile. Would you like a visa? I wanted to reach across and grab his hand. Yes I want very much to go to your country, I said with a big goofy smile. I gave him everything he needed and he assured me that I could pick up my passport in the morning at 9.30.
Many people have told me Eilat is beautiful, between the sea and the desert. All I can see is a trashy beach town. I started walking down the main street to the beach. I couldn't believe what I saw at the next roundabout... the airport!
I could see big hotels on the other side, but how was I supposed to get around a runway to the beach?
I asked a shopkeeper who was polishing bottles of whiskey. They're moving the airport in two years, but for now, just walk along the street.
And then there it was, McDonald's at the end of the runway. And a 2-level shopping mall. I walked thru the mall and found the beach. I took a comfy seat with a big umbrella, ordered a salad, and settled in for the afternoon.
A mumbling homeless guy shuffled along the beach collecting cans out of the garbage bins. Sailboats and freighters out at sea. A roaring low-flying plane overhead. Rod Stewart and Olivia Newton-John on the speakers.
Tomorrow night Cairo, inshallah.
Found Corinne's Hostel. Corinne gave me an abrasive intro and showed me the room. A thin mat on a hard board. Sticky light switch. Not much love here.
Next I got directions to the Egyptian Consulate... and I took off. I was greeted with a warm smile. Would you like a visa? I wanted to reach across and grab his hand. Yes I want very much to go to your country, I said with a big goofy smile. I gave him everything he needed and he assured me that I could pick up my passport in the morning at 9.30.
Many people have told me Eilat is beautiful, between the sea and the desert. All I can see is a trashy beach town. I started walking down the main street to the beach. I couldn't believe what I saw at the next roundabout... the airport!
I could see big hotels on the other side, but how was I supposed to get around a runway to the beach?
I asked a shopkeeper who was polishing bottles of whiskey. They're moving the airport in two years, but for now, just walk along the street.
And then there it was, McDonald's at the end of the runway. And a 2-level shopping mall. I walked thru the mall and found the beach. I took a comfy seat with a big umbrella, ordered a salad, and settled in for the afternoon.
A mumbling homeless guy shuffled along the beach collecting cans out of the garbage bins. Sailboats and freighters out at sea. A roaring low-flying plane overhead. Rod Stewart and Olivia Newton-John on the speakers.
Tomorrow night Cairo, inshallah.
Welcome to Israel?
there was absolutely nothing welcoming or friendly about it.
ezzeddine dropped me at the border, i checked out of jordan and then walked to the bridge crossing to israel. nope, i was not allowed to cross on foot. i had to turn back and take a border bus. an hour and a half later we drove the 5 minutes it took to get to the border. we crossed the short bridge and then had to pull over to wait another hour, the only vehicle in the lot. we were finally motioned forward 200 metres where we could get off the bus. i put my bags thru the x-ray and they had a look at my passport.
can you come this way.
then the questions started. fast and furious.
what was i doing in lebanon? traveling. what else? taking a yoga course. why can't you take yoga in canada? why were you in syria? did you talk to any palestinians? did they give you anything to bring over? do you have palestinian friends? why do you want to enter israel? why aren't you traveling with your parents? (the pretty little thing drilling me was barely 20) are you aware of the security problems in the westbank? and on and on and on and on.
finally she asked to look in my bags. but as i started pulling things out, she became disinterested and wandered off.
on to the next stage, the visa guy. what is your plan? do you have friends here? do you have reservations? why not? why are you traveling alone? this too went on and on and on.
he came out from the back room and said because you don't have any reservations or friends here i am only going to give you a visa for 2 weeks. but the beautiful city of jerusalem needs at least 2 weeks. please give me at least one month.
more waiting as he went to the back room again. he finally stamped my passport, i walked away and checked... he gave me the usual 3 month visa.
2 weeks later and i can't wait to get out. i've experienced enough here and i'd rather spend my time in egypt.
halas.
ezzeddine dropped me at the border, i checked out of jordan and then walked to the bridge crossing to israel. nope, i was not allowed to cross on foot. i had to turn back and take a border bus. an hour and a half later we drove the 5 minutes it took to get to the border. we crossed the short bridge and then had to pull over to wait another hour, the only vehicle in the lot. we were finally motioned forward 200 metres where we could get off the bus. i put my bags thru the x-ray and they had a look at my passport.
can you come this way.
then the questions started. fast and furious.
what was i doing in lebanon? traveling. what else? taking a yoga course. why can't you take yoga in canada? why were you in syria? did you talk to any palestinians? did they give you anything to bring over? do you have palestinian friends? why do you want to enter israel? why aren't you traveling with your parents? (the pretty little thing drilling me was barely 20) are you aware of the security problems in the westbank? and on and on and on and on.
finally she asked to look in my bags. but as i started pulling things out, she became disinterested and wandered off.
on to the next stage, the visa guy. what is your plan? do you have friends here? do you have reservations? why not? why are you traveling alone? this too went on and on and on.
he came out from the back room and said because you don't have any reservations or friends here i am only going to give you a visa for 2 weeks. but the beautiful city of jerusalem needs at least 2 weeks. please give me at least one month.
more waiting as he went to the back room again. he finally stamped my passport, i walked away and checked... he gave me the usual 3 month visa.
2 weeks later and i can't wait to get out. i've experienced enough here and i'd rather spend my time in egypt.
halas.
28.4.11
the adventures of my stuff
my cell phone
on one of my last days in damascus, after a long day of wandering the lanes of the old city i realized that i didn't have my phone. but i was sure i had seen it in my bag when i left the apartment in the morning. had i or hadn't i, i really couldn't remember. so i went back to the apartment and as soon as i saw that it wasn't there i remembered where i had last used it. i had been at an internet cafe in the morning and had pulled it out ... and left it at my station. now.. the trick was to remember how to get back to that internet cafe somewhere in all those winding lanes.
i found it. walked in. he opened a drawer and pulled out my phone. thank you soo much!
my computer
i left damascus last friday. i wanted to leave very early in the morning to avoid any potential problems along the way to the border with jordan. i was up at 6a.m., in a shared taxi leaving damascus by 7a.m. and at the border by 8a.m. all went well.
i spent all of friday with mohammed and his family who were hosting me in irbid. so it wasn't until saturday morning that i went deeper into my backpack and was very disappointed when i realized that i had stupidly left my computer on the shelf in ryan's apartment. i remember putting it there and thinking to myself not to forget it...i ran off to get a new sim card and then phoned her.. yes it was there. i emailed another traveler who was still in damascus to see if he could bring it with him to amman. he couldn't make contact with her, so on monday she took it to dhl and let me know that it should arrive in 2 days. but of course it was delayed getting out of damascus. then via the UAE, it arrived in amman today. i will go pick it up tomorrow, after it has cleared security.
a small day bag
this is a story i was waiting to write once i got to cairo, but i can't wait any longer.
when darrin and i set off on our tour of egypt i left a daybag behind at the hostel. it contained stuff that i really didn't need to lug around on our little trip and many other things that i wanted darrin to take back with him. we would be returning to cairo in about 2 weeks.
well ... you know what happened. there was a revolution. i didn't go back to cairo. darrin got back to cairo but because of the protesting, the guys at the hostel couldn't get the bag over to the hotel near the airport where he was staying. soon after, i went to sinai to wait things out.
at first i didn't know what to do about this bag. it would be very inconvenient to back track to cairo. should i just let it go.. did i really need anything in that bag? the guys at the hostel said not to worry, they would keep it for me until i came back. this created a new plan, a plan that i was very happy with. i had an excuse to go back to cairo after i was done with the rest of the region.
i have kept in touch with Dia and Adel by phone and email, giving them updates on my trip and checking to see how they are. as i am getting closer to the end of this journey, i sent them an email today to let them know i will be back in cairo in about 3 weeks. less than an hour later i got this reply
hello B.
we hope that you are in safe as you choose the most unrest country to visit (seryia )
but i think in Jordan is much better
we are interesting to hear from you until you arrive safely to Cairo
also we would like to inform you that your bag is in the Store bags of the hostel and its safe and we don't have any problem to keep it like that even for year more so don't worry about it
we are looking forward to see you soon
adel
this gave me a big smile. i really haven't been worried. i can't imagine too many other places where you could leave your bag (almost 4 months), no charge, and trust that it is safe.
so if anybody is looking for a good clean friendly hostel in the centre of cairo, then the Travelers House Hostel is the only one I would recommend.
i am looking forward to getting back to cairo
on one of my last days in damascus, after a long day of wandering the lanes of the old city i realized that i didn't have my phone. but i was sure i had seen it in my bag when i left the apartment in the morning. had i or hadn't i, i really couldn't remember. so i went back to the apartment and as soon as i saw that it wasn't there i remembered where i had last used it. i had been at an internet cafe in the morning and had pulled it out ... and left it at my station. now.. the trick was to remember how to get back to that internet cafe somewhere in all those winding lanes.
i found it. walked in. he opened a drawer and pulled out my phone. thank you soo much!
my computer
i left damascus last friday. i wanted to leave very early in the morning to avoid any potential problems along the way to the border with jordan. i was up at 6a.m., in a shared taxi leaving damascus by 7a.m. and at the border by 8a.m. all went well.
i spent all of friday with mohammed and his family who were hosting me in irbid. so it wasn't until saturday morning that i went deeper into my backpack and was very disappointed when i realized that i had stupidly left my computer on the shelf in ryan's apartment. i remember putting it there and thinking to myself not to forget it...i ran off to get a new sim card and then phoned her.. yes it was there. i emailed another traveler who was still in damascus to see if he could bring it with him to amman. he couldn't make contact with her, so on monday she took it to dhl and let me know that it should arrive in 2 days. but of course it was delayed getting out of damascus. then via the UAE, it arrived in amman today. i will go pick it up tomorrow, after it has cleared security.
a small day bag
this is a story i was waiting to write once i got to cairo, but i can't wait any longer.
when darrin and i set off on our tour of egypt i left a daybag behind at the hostel. it contained stuff that i really didn't need to lug around on our little trip and many other things that i wanted darrin to take back with him. we would be returning to cairo in about 2 weeks.
well ... you know what happened. there was a revolution. i didn't go back to cairo. darrin got back to cairo but because of the protesting, the guys at the hostel couldn't get the bag over to the hotel near the airport where he was staying. soon after, i went to sinai to wait things out.
at first i didn't know what to do about this bag. it would be very inconvenient to back track to cairo. should i just let it go.. did i really need anything in that bag? the guys at the hostel said not to worry, they would keep it for me until i came back. this created a new plan, a plan that i was very happy with. i had an excuse to go back to cairo after i was done with the rest of the region.
i have kept in touch with Dia and Adel by phone and email, giving them updates on my trip and checking to see how they are. as i am getting closer to the end of this journey, i sent them an email today to let them know i will be back in cairo in about 3 weeks. less than an hour later i got this reply
hello B.
we hope that you are in safe as you choose the most unrest country to visit (seryia )
but i think in Jordan is much better
we are interesting to hear from you until you arrive safely to Cairo
also we would like to inform you that your bag is in the Store bags of the hostel and its safe and we don't have any problem to keep it like that even for year more so don't worry about it
we are looking forward to see you soon
adel
this gave me a big smile. i really haven't been worried. i can't imagine too many other places where you could leave your bag (almost 4 months), no charge, and trust that it is safe.
so if anybody is looking for a good clean friendly hostel in the centre of cairo, then the Travelers House Hostel is the only one I would recommend.
i am looking forward to getting back to cairo
25.4.11
Ezzeddine
today i was leaving irbid and going to amman, stopping in jerash to see the ruins. i don't know if i need to see anymore ruins, but i couldn't think of anything else to do.
when i saw the ruins as we approached town, i indicated to the bus driver that i wanted off. he did as i asked, but it was no where near the entrance. i walked and walked. a taxi driver going by stopped, asked if i wanted the entrance, yes, get in i'll take you - free. thank you.
but when i got out and saw the hundreds and hundreds of school kids going in i wanted to get back in. my version of a migraine. the noise. endless hello what's your name hello what's your name hello....
i wandered around the site for a couple of hours, trying to avoid the school girls, but something just wasn't right, i wasn't feeling nice at all, maybe pms?
enuf. i might as well start trying to get to amman. i needed a taxi to get to the bus station and typical, never any taxis when you want one. a chocolate bar would've helped, but nothing... no shops, no taxis, just lots of noisy traffic.
this was also one of those days when it seemed everyone was staring at me.
hello what's your name hello what's your name, staring, no taxis, no chocolate. aghhh!
then there was a taxi. yay! but man oh man, the two guys in the taxi were taking forever to settle things and get out. finally, i put my bag in the back, shut the trunk, the back door and the front door, as i got in, a little too loudly. with a big smile, he said, shhh... sorry.
i explained i would like to go to the bus station, to go to amman. he is going to amman. oh no. just the bus station please (bus fare to amman, 1 JOD). he will take me to amman for 5 JOD. are you serious (taxi to amman, minimum 15 JOD)? yes, he just brought those two men from amman and is going back empty. i still couldn't believe my fortune. yes, i am a foolish man, and i want you to be happy. and i am a lucky woman.
then he asked if i had time.. he took a little detour and drove me up into the hills outside of town, to the top where there was peace, olive trees, birds chirping, and a beautiful view in all directions. i went off to breathe, he went to pray.
ezzeddine, 50, was a teacher and has been driving taxi for three years. he asked about my trip. i told him i am going to palestine next. he is from palestine, from nablus, but unlike me, he can't go. he bought me a juice and water for the ride. he told me stories and we talked about islam.
he dropped me right at the place i wanted to be in amman. of course i paid him more than 5 JOD, but he wouldn't take what i wanted to give.
he had arrived just in time saving me from the rough patch i was in. and i was left feeling overwhelmed by the kindness, again.
when i saw the ruins as we approached town, i indicated to the bus driver that i wanted off. he did as i asked, but it was no where near the entrance. i walked and walked. a taxi driver going by stopped, asked if i wanted the entrance, yes, get in i'll take you - free. thank you.
but when i got out and saw the hundreds and hundreds of school kids going in i wanted to get back in. my version of a migraine. the noise. endless hello what's your name hello what's your name hello....
i wandered around the site for a couple of hours, trying to avoid the school girls, but something just wasn't right, i wasn't feeling nice at all, maybe pms?
enuf. i might as well start trying to get to amman. i needed a taxi to get to the bus station and typical, never any taxis when you want one. a chocolate bar would've helped, but nothing... no shops, no taxis, just lots of noisy traffic.
this was also one of those days when it seemed everyone was staring at me.
hello what's your name hello what's your name, staring, no taxis, no chocolate. aghhh!
then there was a taxi. yay! but man oh man, the two guys in the taxi were taking forever to settle things and get out. finally, i put my bag in the back, shut the trunk, the back door and the front door, as i got in, a little too loudly. with a big smile, he said, shhh... sorry.
i explained i would like to go to the bus station, to go to amman. he is going to amman. oh no. just the bus station please (bus fare to amman, 1 JOD). he will take me to amman for 5 JOD. are you serious (taxi to amman, minimum 15 JOD)? yes, he just brought those two men from amman and is going back empty. i still couldn't believe my fortune. yes, i am a foolish man, and i want you to be happy. and i am a lucky woman.
then he asked if i had time.. he took a little detour and drove me up into the hills outside of town, to the top where there was peace, olive trees, birds chirping, and a beautiful view in all directions. i went off to breathe, he went to pray.
ezzeddine, 50, was a teacher and has been driving taxi for three years. he asked about my trip. i told him i am going to palestine next. he is from palestine, from nablus, but unlike me, he can't go. he bought me a juice and water for the ride. he told me stories and we talked about islam.
he dropped me right at the place i wanted to be in amman. of course i paid him more than 5 JOD, but he wouldn't take what i wanted to give.
he had arrived just in time saving me from the rough patch i was in. and i was left feeling overwhelmed by the kindness, again.
13.4.11
there was a knock at my door
"when i see you, my heart is like 7 cows"
well, that is quite a sentiment. he pointed to the new jeans he had bought and to his haircut. i accepted the glass of syrian wine he offered, but refused the kiss. i insisted i was very very tired, then retreated to my room, locked the door ... and chuckled.
well, that is quite a sentiment. he pointed to the new jeans he had bought and to his haircut. i accepted the glass of syrian wine he offered, but refused the kiss. i insisted i was very very tired, then retreated to my room, locked the door ... and chuckled.
11.4.11
The Tourist Hotel
I took the 7a.m. train from Damascus to Aleppo. The 5hr trip cost $4.80.
I arrived, caught a taxi to the hotel, dumped my bag in a cute little room, and started walking, eager to see the famous souqs of Aleppo.
However... I didn't have a map of the city, I didn't grab a business card of the hotel, I didn't do a check of the nearby landmarks. When I tried to find my way back, I couldn't.
And unfortunately the name of the hotel is Tourist Hotel. I gave up asking for help. Every hotel was the answer to my question.
I arrived, caught a taxi to the hotel, dumped my bag in a cute little room, and started walking, eager to see the famous souqs of Aleppo.
However... I didn't have a map of the city, I didn't grab a business card of the hotel, I didn't do a check of the nearby landmarks. When I tried to find my way back, I couldn't.
And unfortunately the name of the hotel is Tourist Hotel. I gave up asking for help. Every hotel was the answer to my question.
8.4.11
crossing the border
the official line is that you have to get a visa for syria in your home country. of course that wasn't possible for me. i had also read that you can sometimes get a visa at the border, depends who you are, what day it is, and who is on duty. i know a canadian who recently crossed without problems, but also met a brit and a french guy who were turned back. i was confident i would get through.
two dutch, a polish guy and myself were sharing a taxi from beirut to damascus. we got stamped out of lebanon and then moved on to the syrian border control.
clearly it is possible to get a visa at the border... there is a large board listing every nationality and the entry fee for each. nigerians are the most welcome, only $4. congolese are the least welcome, $250. I handed over $56. he gave me a big smile as he took my money and sent me to get stamped in, where i was also welcomed with a smile. we all made it thru... except for the young polish guy, no reason given. he turned back to beirut and a german couple joined our taxi.
next our bags needed to be inspected. the germans had cookies so they sailed through. the others had small day bags as they were just going for the weekend. i started pulling my stuff out. i hesitated a moment as i pulled out a ziplock bag full of tampons. the policeman looked at the bag, looked at me. he poked at the bag, then spoke to me in arabic. what could i say? i had no idea how to explain those little white pellets. he spoke to his colleagues, then looked through the rest of my things and came back to the tampons, lifting the bag, looking at it carefully. all i could think to say was 'for women.' more talking with the other men and finally he decided he was done with me.
i repacked my bag, we got in the taxi... and then laughed.
on to damascus.
two dutch, a polish guy and myself were sharing a taxi from beirut to damascus. we got stamped out of lebanon and then moved on to the syrian border control.
clearly it is possible to get a visa at the border... there is a large board listing every nationality and the entry fee for each. nigerians are the most welcome, only $4. congolese are the least welcome, $250. I handed over $56. he gave me a big smile as he took my money and sent me to get stamped in, where i was also welcomed with a smile. we all made it thru... except for the young polish guy, no reason given. he turned back to beirut and a german couple joined our taxi.
next our bags needed to be inspected. the germans had cookies so they sailed through. the others had small day bags as they were just going for the weekend. i started pulling my stuff out. i hesitated a moment as i pulled out a ziplock bag full of tampons. the policeman looked at the bag, looked at me. he poked at the bag, then spoke to me in arabic. what could i say? i had no idea how to explain those little white pellets. he spoke to his colleagues, then looked through the rest of my things and came back to the tampons, lifting the bag, looking at it carefully. all i could think to say was 'for women.' more talking with the other men and finally he decided he was done with me.
i repacked my bag, we got in the taxi... and then laughed.
on to damascus.
5.4.11
to go or not to go
Beirut is beautiful. The views from the corniche to the sea and the snow covered mountains were stunning. Walking around the Hamra area even brought to mind memories of Vancouver. Beirut felt like I had arrived in the West.
But with each day it became too much. Hardees, KFC, Dunkin' Donuts, valet parking at Starbucks, La Senza, Dior, Zara, Espirit, Filipino nannies, Ferrari, Porsche, Audi, billboard after billboard on the glamour of weddings, plastic surgery, rampant consumerism.
And the traffic, the noise, the honking, the craziness. Cars park where ever they please... double parking, parking on corners, on sidewalks. Wrong way on one ways. There are few traffic lights and fewer stop signs and these have no meaning anyway. There are no rules. As a pedestrian it was exhausting.
But the people are friendly and very welcoming. And the food is some of the best in the world. It has been a long time since I last looked forward to eating (in Uganda I decided that I would boycott all countries whose people had no enthusiasm for food preparation).
And during this whole time I watched the news intensely, to see what was happening in Syria. I talked to people who were just there, to those who were thinking of going, and to those who were already there. My plan changed almost daily.
I have finally made a decision. I will go, with three others from the hostel. We will share a taxi and go on Friday.
But with each day it became too much. Hardees, KFC, Dunkin' Donuts, valet parking at Starbucks, La Senza, Dior, Zara, Espirit, Filipino nannies, Ferrari, Porsche, Audi, billboard after billboard on the glamour of weddings, plastic surgery, rampant consumerism.
And the traffic, the noise, the honking, the craziness. Cars park where ever they please... double parking, parking on corners, on sidewalks. Wrong way on one ways. There are few traffic lights and fewer stop signs and these have no meaning anyway. There are no rules. As a pedestrian it was exhausting.
But the people are friendly and very welcoming. And the food is some of the best in the world. It has been a long time since I last looked forward to eating (in Uganda I decided that I would boycott all countries whose people had no enthusiasm for food preparation).
And during this whole time I watched the news intensely, to see what was happening in Syria. I talked to people who were just there, to those who were thinking of going, and to those who were already there. My plan changed almost daily.
I have finally made a decision. I will go, with three others from the hostel. We will share a taxi and go on Friday.
17.3.11
on from Jordan
A very expensive day ($75 entrance fee!) exploring the ancient city of Petra. A few days walking the very hilly city of Amman and a day trip to see the view to Jericho from Mt. Nebo and float around in the Dead Sea.
8 days in Jordan was enough. I was very cold and very tired. I hadn't had a good night's sleep in a week and I was looking forward to warmth and good eating in Lebanon.
8 days in Jordan was enough. I was very cold and very tired. I hadn't had a good night's sleep in a week and I was looking forward to warmth and good eating in Lebanon.
10.3.11
9.3.11
the journey continues
23 days after arriving, i was finally able to convince myself it was time to leave dahab. before getting on the ferry to jordan, i thought i would spend a few days in nuweiba, but 3 days turned into 4 when i missed the first ferry.
nobody really knew anything certain about the ferry. there is a slow ferry and a fast ferry and apparently the fast ferry is in tunisia picking up egyptians who are fleeing from libya. the slow ferry is still running every day, but its schedule is unknown. on monday we drove to the port and were told there would be a 10a.m. and a 4p.m. boat on tuesday. great. i arrived at 8a.m., bought my ticket and then was told that there was only a 4p.m. boat. so i took a taxi to the little prince coffee shop where I had been the day before. after tea, cake and much chatter i returned to the port by 2p.m.
went thru customs, got stamped out of egypt, waited a bit in the near-empty waiting room and then we were put onto a bus which took us out to the ferry. the bus stopped at the ferry, opened the doors... and then closed the doors, turned around and drove back to the waiting area. i stood up, looked at the men on the bus to try to understand what was happening. one guy chuckled and said 'tomorrow'. huh? i jumped off the bus and ran back to the ferry, to see it pulling away. it was only 3p.m.! i walked back and was told i could wait for the 10p.m. ferry. nope, didn't want to chance the wait in a dark, dingey building... so i got stamped back into egypt. much more complicated than getting stamped out and seemed to involve everyone.
i stepped outside... 'welcome to egypt. taxi?' i went back to the bassanova camp on the beach.
next day got a ride to the port for 11a.m. this time there was a huge line at the customs counter, but the men motioned me to the front, to an empty window, just for me. got stamped out again, and smiles from all the men who knew me from yesterday. stepped into the very crowded waiting room, looked around and spotted a partly empty bench way over by the door. i felt a bit like a flashing beacon sitting there in that room full of men, and soon enough someone came over and directed me to the area where women should wait. there were just a few of us, and just as i had set down my bag we were up and off to the bus that would take us to the ferry. this time the doors opened and we got off.. the men lined up in a very long line and us few women lined up separately and were the first on the boat. it was only 11.30a.m. and i was already settling myself on the upper deck... and the waiting began.
like the buses, the boat would leave when it was full. at 5.30p.m. we pulled away.
after sundown it got cold and windy on the deck so i took a wander around the boat. as i was going up some stairs i heard 'excuse me, excuse me' i turned around and a guy standing in a very long line of men (i had assumed waiting for the toilet) asked if i had a jordanian visa. not yet. he motioned me towards an empty window, just for me. i gave away my passport in exchange for a tiny piece of paper that i would take to the immigration office when we landed. nice of that guy to have alerted me.
went back upstairs to find a seat out of the wind. while looking around, someone knocked into me as he ran by, spraying puke as he went. luckily it all missed me, but left me confused and wondering what had just happened. so, back downstairs, where i found a quiet hallway. a boat attendant noticed me and asked where i was from, and why i as waiting there.. 'follow me' and he took me to the empty first class restaurant. 'don't worry, wait here' and he gave me a table.
and from then i had very personalized service for the remainder of the journey.
at 9p.m. i was off the boat, on to a bus and into the customs building and was asked to wait outside the visa office. i was the only non-regional person on the boat that day. it seemed everyone knew who i was.. all those who passed by said 'canada' and smiled. then i was passed on to a very tall, dark and handsome man who took a quick look at my passport, bent down, looked into my eyes and said 'hello brenda'.
wow. i am madly in love with the egyptians, but it looks like jordan will be a treat too. we sat in his office, he asked me my plans, stamped me in and with a very warm smile, welcomed me to jordan.
i took a wrong turn trying to get out of the building.. probably dizzy from all the attention... but they caught me, redirected me and now i am in jordan.
nobody really knew anything certain about the ferry. there is a slow ferry and a fast ferry and apparently the fast ferry is in tunisia picking up egyptians who are fleeing from libya. the slow ferry is still running every day, but its schedule is unknown. on monday we drove to the port and were told there would be a 10a.m. and a 4p.m. boat on tuesday. great. i arrived at 8a.m., bought my ticket and then was told that there was only a 4p.m. boat. so i took a taxi to the little prince coffee shop where I had been the day before. after tea, cake and much chatter i returned to the port by 2p.m.
went thru customs, got stamped out of egypt, waited a bit in the near-empty waiting room and then we were put onto a bus which took us out to the ferry. the bus stopped at the ferry, opened the doors... and then closed the doors, turned around and drove back to the waiting area. i stood up, looked at the men on the bus to try to understand what was happening. one guy chuckled and said 'tomorrow'. huh? i jumped off the bus and ran back to the ferry, to see it pulling away. it was only 3p.m.! i walked back and was told i could wait for the 10p.m. ferry. nope, didn't want to chance the wait in a dark, dingey building... so i got stamped back into egypt. much more complicated than getting stamped out and seemed to involve everyone.
i stepped outside... 'welcome to egypt. taxi?' i went back to the bassanova camp on the beach.
next day got a ride to the port for 11a.m. this time there was a huge line at the customs counter, but the men motioned me to the front, to an empty window, just for me. got stamped out again, and smiles from all the men who knew me from yesterday. stepped into the very crowded waiting room, looked around and spotted a partly empty bench way over by the door. i felt a bit like a flashing beacon sitting there in that room full of men, and soon enough someone came over and directed me to the area where women should wait. there were just a few of us, and just as i had set down my bag we were up and off to the bus that would take us to the ferry. this time the doors opened and we got off.. the men lined up in a very long line and us few women lined up separately and were the first on the boat. it was only 11.30a.m. and i was already settling myself on the upper deck... and the waiting began.
like the buses, the boat would leave when it was full. at 5.30p.m. we pulled away.
after sundown it got cold and windy on the deck so i took a wander around the boat. as i was going up some stairs i heard 'excuse me, excuse me' i turned around and a guy standing in a very long line of men (i had assumed waiting for the toilet) asked if i had a jordanian visa. not yet. he motioned me towards an empty window, just for me. i gave away my passport in exchange for a tiny piece of paper that i would take to the immigration office when we landed. nice of that guy to have alerted me.
went back upstairs to find a seat out of the wind. while looking around, someone knocked into me as he ran by, spraying puke as he went. luckily it all missed me, but left me confused and wondering what had just happened. so, back downstairs, where i found a quiet hallway. a boat attendant noticed me and asked where i was from, and why i as waiting there.. 'follow me' and he took me to the empty first class restaurant. 'don't worry, wait here' and he gave me a table.
and from then i had very personalized service for the remainder of the journey.
at 9p.m. i was off the boat, on to a bus and into the customs building and was asked to wait outside the visa office. i was the only non-regional person on the boat that day. it seemed everyone knew who i was.. all those who passed by said 'canada' and smiled. then i was passed on to a very tall, dark and handsome man who took a quick look at my passport, bent down, looked into my eyes and said 'hello brenda'.
wow. i am madly in love with the egyptians, but it looks like jordan will be a treat too. we sat in his office, he asked me my plans, stamped me in and with a very warm smile, welcomed me to jordan.
i took a wrong turn trying to get out of the building.. probably dizzy from all the attention... but they caught me, redirected me and now i am in jordan.
25.2.11
another beautiful day in egypt
woke up this morning, again, to a perfectly blue sky and the sound of the sea. then walked a mere few feet out my door to a little table on the beach and ordered my usual pot of green tea and fruit salad with yogurt and honey.
i don't know if i could ever grow tired of this.
i arrived in dahab two weeks ago today, the day mubarak finally stepped down.
i am starting to think that maybe ... maybe i should continue on.
i don't know if i could ever grow tired of this.
i arrived in dahab two weeks ago today, the day mubarak finally stepped down.
i am starting to think that maybe ... maybe i should continue on.
24.2.11
alone on mount sinai
after climbing mount nemrut in turkey last year to see the sunrise i swore to myself that i would never again climb another bloody mountain with hundreds of people in the freezing cold and blasting icy winds just to see a sunrise that may likely be covered in cloud.
but a couple of days ago i found myself giving a quick yes when mandy asked if i was interested in joining a small group to the top of mount sinai to do yoga.
then i started to dread what i had done. mount sinai is described as one of the most popular hiking destinations on the planet! i had heard others talk about their overnight experience - a two hour drive out to st. katherine's monastery in the dark, a climb in the cold, dark night, jostling with all the others up to the top, and a smelly camel blanket to sleep to await the sunrise on the very cold, windy, rocky summit. i have heard people say that there can be up to 1,000 people waiting for the sunrise... how they all fit up there i can't imagine, but anyway those numbers would be less now given that there still aren't many tourists around.
six of us gathered at the german bakery here in dahab where they have yummy chocolate croissants and other treats. then mady, our guide, who happens to be canadian, arrived with the vehicle and we were off. it was about 4pm so we enjoyed the late afternoon light of the desert on the drive to st. katherine's village. we had a delicious dinner at the bedouin camp/hotel and were all in bed in our warm rooms by 9... so we could be up and walking by 4am. i bundled myself up as best i could with the clothes that i had in anticipation of the cold and wind, but soon i started to loosen things up and removed my head scarf. at a tea stand two thirds of the way up we stopped to enjoy the sunrise... really, does it matter if you are on the summit? it was a beautiful sunrise. we continued a little further up to have our breakfast at the next tea stand. and from there we watched all those who had spent the night on the summit coming down - one guy said to me as he passed "you missed it, the sun is already up". then the final 750 stairs .. et voila, we were on the summit, alone.
very special.
a short way down from the summit is elija's basin, where elija spent 40 days and nights communing with god in a cave. this is where we did yoga together, in a garden - not the cave. to go back down to the monastery i choose the path that allowed me to be completely alone, with nadar, our bedouin guide. we shared a few occasional words, but we were silent for most of the 1.5hr walk down.
very special.
but a couple of days ago i found myself giving a quick yes when mandy asked if i was interested in joining a small group to the top of mount sinai to do yoga.
then i started to dread what i had done. mount sinai is described as one of the most popular hiking destinations on the planet! i had heard others talk about their overnight experience - a two hour drive out to st. katherine's monastery in the dark, a climb in the cold, dark night, jostling with all the others up to the top, and a smelly camel blanket to sleep to await the sunrise on the very cold, windy, rocky summit. i have heard people say that there can be up to 1,000 people waiting for the sunrise... how they all fit up there i can't imagine, but anyway those numbers would be less now given that there still aren't many tourists around.
six of us gathered at the german bakery here in dahab where they have yummy chocolate croissants and other treats. then mady, our guide, who happens to be canadian, arrived with the vehicle and we were off. it was about 4pm so we enjoyed the late afternoon light of the desert on the drive to st. katherine's village. we had a delicious dinner at the bedouin camp/hotel and were all in bed in our warm rooms by 9... so we could be up and walking by 4am. i bundled myself up as best i could with the clothes that i had in anticipation of the cold and wind, but soon i started to loosen things up and removed my head scarf. at a tea stand two thirds of the way up we stopped to enjoy the sunrise... really, does it matter if you are on the summit? it was a beautiful sunrise. we continued a little further up to have our breakfast at the next tea stand. and from there we watched all those who had spent the night on the summit coming down - one guy said to me as he passed "you missed it, the sun is already up". then the final 750 stairs .. et voila, we were on the summit, alone.
very special.
a short way down from the summit is elija's basin, where elija spent 40 days and nights communing with god in a cave. this is where we did yoga together, in a garden - not the cave. to go back down to the monastery i choose the path that allowed me to be completely alone, with nadar, our bedouin guide. we shared a few occasional words, but we were silent for most of the 1.5hr walk down.
very special.
22.2.11
something i heard today
a young butterfly is difficult to catch... but an old horse teaches you to ride
well, that explains some things
well, that explains some things
18.2.11
the horror and pleasure
After too many years of pulling my hair back in a bun I am now wearing a new style. I trusted a woman in Nairobi to cut my hair and I love it. All I have to do is wash, comb and let it dry.
No more.
My hair was getting too long. I found a barbershop here and the sign advertised cuts for men and women. The very young 'barber' offered me a good price and said in his limited English that he could cut my hair. What could be so hard about cutting a straight line around my head?
However, I think he just wanted the novelty of cutting my hair. He combed and combed and combed. Then he combed it all over to the right and chopped. Garden shears? Then he combed it all over to the left and chopped. Ok, it won't be perfect, but I'll manage. Then he combed it all forward and I opened my eyes with the next chop. I yelped as I saw a big chunk of hair fall... The hair that was chin length was now mid-cheek. Then he blew it dry with a burning heat and I smiled into the mirror and thot how I looked like a scarecrow.
Before letting me escape he gave me a face-threading. My last one was in Turkey with Pepsi's sister, so I guess I was due. Then he dotted gobs of cream on my face and gave me a very long and oddly pleasurable face massage.
Now... how to make this look funky.
No more.
My hair was getting too long. I found a barbershop here and the sign advertised cuts for men and women. The very young 'barber' offered me a good price and said in his limited English that he could cut my hair. What could be so hard about cutting a straight line around my head?
However, I think he just wanted the novelty of cutting my hair. He combed and combed and combed. Then he combed it all over to the right and chopped. Garden shears? Then he combed it all over to the left and chopped. Ok, it won't be perfect, but I'll manage. Then he combed it all forward and I opened my eyes with the next chop. I yelped as I saw a big chunk of hair fall... The hair that was chin length was now mid-cheek. Then he blew it dry with a burning heat and I smiled into the mirror and thot how I looked like a scarecrow.
Before letting me escape he gave me a face-threading. My last one was in Turkey with Pepsi's sister, so I guess I was due. Then he dotted gobs of cream on my face and gave me a very long and oddly pleasurable face massage.
Now... how to make this look funky.
6.2.11
The only thing worse than hoards of tourists ...
is no tourists.
I am in Luxor and my heart is breaking. Tourism is dead.
When I travel I want to find places where there are only locals, but one accepts and expects that it will not be possible in Egypt. Yet there is absolutely nobody on the street here, nobody. Hundreds of cruise ships, feluccas, taxis, caleshes, etc. sit idle. The shop owners still open up, but only to gather, play games and chat. They all still welcome me... and they apologize for what is happening. Goodness, please don't apologize.
I just hope tourists recognize that this is an issue between the people and their gov't and that the tourists don't delay their return too long. I have had waiters insist on walking me to my hotel to make sure I feel safe. Yesterday an old man picking rubbish off the promenade came back with a little bunch of flowers for me. And today... I needed some passport sized photos to get my visa extended (I am not ready to leave Egypt yet). For $2.50 I got 8 photos and I burst out laughing as she gave me a "present"... a 3x5 of me! I have no idea what I will do with this framed photo of myself, but we shared a wonderful laugh and I thanked her very much.
They treat their tourists like gold. The industry has suffered enough in the past already.
I am in Luxor and my heart is breaking. Tourism is dead.
When I travel I want to find places where there are only locals, but one accepts and expects that it will not be possible in Egypt. Yet there is absolutely nobody on the street here, nobody. Hundreds of cruise ships, feluccas, taxis, caleshes, etc. sit idle. The shop owners still open up, but only to gather, play games and chat. They all still welcome me... and they apologize for what is happening. Goodness, please don't apologize.
I just hope tourists recognize that this is an issue between the people and their gov't and that the tourists don't delay their return too long. I have had waiters insist on walking me to my hotel to make sure I feel safe. Yesterday an old man picking rubbish off the promenade came back with a little bunch of flowers for me. And today... I needed some passport sized photos to get my visa extended (I am not ready to leave Egypt yet). For $2.50 I got 8 photos and I burst out laughing as she gave me a "present"... a 3x5 of me! I have no idea what I will do with this framed photo of myself, but we shared a wonderful laugh and I thanked her very much.
They treat their tourists like gold. The industry has suffered enough in the past already.
12.1.11
Alexandria
I had been spending much too much time on the internet researching Egypt. I was excited about this next destination. My first stop would be Alexandria, a city I have wanted to visit for some time. Yet most of the reviews from travelers had not much to say about Alexandria and were especially negative about the accommodation situation.
I arrived last night and was picked up at the airport by Karim, a contact I had made through CS. He knew somebody at my hotel of first choice, but it was full. So he suggested Hotel Acropole. We went up the tiny lift, that had a door that didn't close. I stood back as we rattled up to the 4th floor. We got out, did hellos and Osman asked me what kind of room I would like. He showed me a room right off the lobby/breakfast room and I knew I wouldn't be looking at any other rooms. He opened the tall double doors onto a small balcony and there was the view I had hoped I could find from a room. Fantastic! A view of the corniche to the left, a park below and the craziness of the city streets to the right. And only $20. I did the obligatory bargaining and he said he was already giving me a discount, but I really didn't care. It was perfect.
Karim gave me a set of city walking maps to look over, we said goodbye until tomorrow, and I went for an evening stroll.
There is also a horrible reputation for traffic and hassles in this country, but so far I have only experienced hellos and welcomes, and cars have even stopped to let me cross the streets.
Altho, one attempt to cross had me darting back to the curb to get out of the way of a bus speeding towards me. A young guy chatting with friends saw the near-miss, reached for me, and then guided me safely across.
At a park, a little old man looked at me and said Welcome to Egypt. Thank you very much, I said with a big smile. Not at all, he replied. Lovely.
I know it's been less than 24 hours, but I am thrilled to be here.
I arrived last night and was picked up at the airport by Karim, a contact I had made through CS. He knew somebody at my hotel of first choice, but it was full. So he suggested Hotel Acropole. We went up the tiny lift, that had a door that didn't close. I stood back as we rattled up to the 4th floor. We got out, did hellos and Osman asked me what kind of room I would like. He showed me a room right off the lobby/breakfast room and I knew I wouldn't be looking at any other rooms. He opened the tall double doors onto a small balcony and there was the view I had hoped I could find from a room. Fantastic! A view of the corniche to the left, a park below and the craziness of the city streets to the right. And only $20. I did the obligatory bargaining and he said he was already giving me a discount, but I really didn't care. It was perfect.
Karim gave me a set of city walking maps to look over, we said goodbye until tomorrow, and I went for an evening stroll.
There is also a horrible reputation for traffic and hassles in this country, but so far I have only experienced hellos and welcomes, and cars have even stopped to let me cross the streets.
Altho, one attempt to cross had me darting back to the curb to get out of the way of a bus speeding towards me. A young guy chatting with friends saw the near-miss, reached for me, and then guided me safely across.
At a park, a little old man looked at me and said Welcome to Egypt. Thank you very much, I said with a big smile. Not at all, he replied. Lovely.
I know it's been less than 24 hours, but I am thrilled to be here.
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