The Last Post
My arrival in Cairo coincided with the start of the African Nations Cup, the continent's football tournament held every 2 years which Egypt are hosting this year. Giant flags hanging from apartment windows, cafeterias filled with fans, glasses charged with strong tea and a face full of Sheesha (water pipe). Football support is different to what I know in the UK, theres no referee baiting for a start, the crowds sit reasonably quiet until a goal is scored when all hell breaks loose.
Guinea are my team, an underdog with what a purist approach, a passing game and confidence for a few tricks here and there, but importantly for this tournament, they lack a physical presence. Not lasting long, knocked out early on Ive since opted for the locals, Egypt. The games are played at some tempo, many goals scored, a lot of yellow cards and much comedy refereeing. Televisions with the games on can be found everywhere, including building sites.
Cairo, the largest city on the African continent with a population over 15 million. A huge place, with fantastically bad driving (glad to have left the bike in Dahab), dusty streets, merchants everywhere, from downtown its hard to believe that the ancient Pyramids of Giza are a short cab ride away.
Travelling without bike, particularly in cities makes for far less adventure. I did the usual sites, the Pyramids, Tutankamun's plundered tomb reamains at the musuem, a few days strolling around the old town. All interesting historically, but little scope for meeting people bar my fantastic hosts at the Hotel Bluebird.
Heading south, I chose 1st class overnight travel to Aswan... the trains in Egypt are cheap, prompt although 1st class isnt as oppulent as it sounds. Before I left the city however, I stocked up on food at a street side eatery. My arabic language skills barely servicable I managed to order some sort of feast - having seen signs all over for brain and testies amongst other lovelies I was a little concerned to see my half dozen or so little dishes of food were not instantly recognisable. It was all tasty except for one dish which Im pretty sure was intestines or stomach or somekind of alien flesh, pretty inocuouse but although able to eat most things, after a few mouthfuls this one wasnt going down without a struggle. Abondoning the dish I stood up and motionned towards my wallet to pay the man, but spotting my unfinished intestines, he bent down, picked the dish up, loaded a forkful and made for my gob, feeding me like a child who oesnt like his greens, which would be apt. Dodging the spoon, squarming and starting to feel and look rough he turned to his mates, no doubt making reference to this childlike fussy eater - much guffawing all round I stuffed a bundle of Egpytian pounds in his hand and made for the exit.
Having slept well on the train, thanks to a Korean cabinmate armed with a bottle of scotch, Johnny Walker - as opposed to the Syrian fake Johnny Wakker, which is somewhat cheaper I arrived in Aswan the next morning with a hangover.
Aswan, close to the Sudanese border is seperated, like many Egpytian cities by the Nile. Over 90% of the country's populace live near to the banks of the river. Without it, there would be little more than desert. The irragated fields on either bank have provided food to generations of Egyptians, themselves a product of a river which has fed and watered them since time and memorial.
Crossing the Nile requires a boat - most have motors, but to do it in style, a Nubian sailor can be hired along with their Felucca sailing boats. The Nubians are an African tribe, longtime residents of southern Egypt, displaced by the construction of the High Aswan dam which flooded the land they previously called home.
My Felucca captain, Abdullah, unlike most others, was young and fit and having bartered my way to a reasonable price he cast off and set the sail. Its possible to travel north, up the river towards Luxor, for a few days and nights - I opted for a 2 hour cruise taking in the sights on the river whilst relaxing under the baking Aswan sun.
Felucca collisions are frequent. Rarely serious, although the odd inexperienced sailor has been known to capsize. Captain Abdullah was a fine sailor - although seemingly common to all captains in Aswan he exhibited an unnerving enjoyment of minor collisions, they cannot really be classed as accidents as they seem intentional - like the kisses, hugs and other signs of affection between men common to the region. Head on collisions at a snails pace brought the most mirth, accompanied by large toothy and toothless grins all round.
The Aswan felluca ride was trumped a few days later in the larger city of Luxor, by my most exotic mode of transport yet. The Valley of the Kings, some 5 km west of Luxor which can be reached by various modes of transport, some fast like a taxi, others a little slower on a tour bus or for those with time to kill and little aversion to mounting a saddle by a turbo charged Egyptian donkey.
Introduced to mine just after 5.30 am, I was ready for a dawn trek over the rugged desert terrain west of Luxor. My guide, Saraba had chosen the two best donkeys in Luxor, or so I was told. One was a lot bigger than the other, a reflection on Saraba's wirey frame versus mine, it was no surprise I was offered the big one. We had some altitude to climb, and knowing whats its like to haul my weight up a mountain side from the cycling, a strong donkey is a must for the slopes, but it makes for an excitable and relatively fast donkey on the flats.
I was pretty certain, suspecting a purely functional relationship between man and beast that my donkey was simply called 'Donkey' - which Saraba confirmed. After hauling 'Donkey' to a halt after another sprint after the overtaking truck I opted for a more suitable moniker - 'Suleimain the Magnificant' after the Ottoman leader. Suleimain, Saraba and myself after a few hours up and down the desert hills found ourselves looking down on the Valley of the Kings - where many Egyptian Kings of the Old Kingdom were buried, once it had been decided Pyramids advertised the location of each tombs treasures. Without a guidebook and armed with the cheaper ticket, allowing entry to only 3 of a few dozen tombs I picked the most complicated looking ones with the smallest queues. Each underground tomb included long passages to the tomb room and was adorned with fanastic 2 dimensional, highly symobolic Egyptian art, which one day I should really try to understand a little better, but they looked good.
Leaving the tombs I headed back up the hillside to try and find Saraba and Suleimain who I had lost. A few minutes passed when an Alabaster salesman asked if he could help, he was perplexed when I replied 'Im climbing the mountain to find my donkey'.
From Luxor it was a 18 hour bus ride back to Dahab to make a certain connection... yep, my flight back to London. Its over... or at least will be when I touch down at the, unlike Dahab, cold and no doubt wet London Gatwick airport. Its been nearly 6 months on the road and its time for the next challenge, not as physicalling demanding for sure but everybit as interesting I hope and thats the rest of my life... (I can hear your pained groans from here)
It has been a fascinating experience which has lived up to my expectations, which is quite something given the amount of time I spent at my old desk in London daydreaming whilst waiting for paychecks before my departure.
So this is most likely my last post to the website, thanks for following and goodnight ...
Daniel.
(get on your bikes)
Guinea are my team, an underdog with what a purist approach, a passing game and confidence for a few tricks here and there, but importantly for this tournament, they lack a physical presence. Not lasting long, knocked out early on Ive since opted for the locals, Egypt. The games are played at some tempo, many goals scored, a lot of yellow cards and much comedy refereeing. Televisions with the games on can be found everywhere, including building sites.
Cairo, the largest city on the African continent with a population over 15 million. A huge place, with fantastically bad driving (glad to have left the bike in Dahab), dusty streets, merchants everywhere, from downtown its hard to believe that the ancient Pyramids of Giza are a short cab ride away.
Travelling without bike, particularly in cities makes for far less adventure. I did the usual sites, the Pyramids, Tutankamun's plundered tomb reamains at the musuem, a few days strolling around the old town. All interesting historically, but little scope for meeting people bar my fantastic hosts at the Hotel Bluebird.
Heading south, I chose 1st class overnight travel to Aswan... the trains in Egypt are cheap, prompt although 1st class isnt as oppulent as it sounds. Before I left the city however, I stocked up on food at a street side eatery. My arabic language skills barely servicable I managed to order some sort of feast - having seen signs all over for brain and testies amongst other lovelies I was a little concerned to see my half dozen or so little dishes of food were not instantly recognisable. It was all tasty except for one dish which Im pretty sure was intestines or stomach or somekind of alien flesh, pretty inocuouse but although able to eat most things, after a few mouthfuls this one wasnt going down without a struggle. Abondoning the dish I stood up and motionned towards my wallet to pay the man, but spotting my unfinished intestines, he bent down, picked the dish up, loaded a forkful and made for my gob, feeding me like a child who oesnt like his greens, which would be apt. Dodging the spoon, squarming and starting to feel and look rough he turned to his mates, no doubt making reference to this childlike fussy eater - much guffawing all round I stuffed a bundle of Egpytian pounds in his hand and made for the exit.
Having slept well on the train, thanks to a Korean cabinmate armed with a bottle of scotch, Johnny Walker - as opposed to the Syrian fake Johnny Wakker, which is somewhat cheaper I arrived in Aswan the next morning with a hangover.
Aswan, close to the Sudanese border is seperated, like many Egpytian cities by the Nile. Over 90% of the country's populace live near to the banks of the river. Without it, there would be little more than desert. The irragated fields on either bank have provided food to generations of Egyptians, themselves a product of a river which has fed and watered them since time and memorial.
Crossing the Nile requires a boat - most have motors, but to do it in style, a Nubian sailor can be hired along with their Felucca sailing boats. The Nubians are an African tribe, longtime residents of southern Egypt, displaced by the construction of the High Aswan dam which flooded the land they previously called home.
My Felucca captain, Abdullah, unlike most others, was young and fit and having bartered my way to a reasonable price he cast off and set the sail. Its possible to travel north, up the river towards Luxor, for a few days and nights - I opted for a 2 hour cruise taking in the sights on the river whilst relaxing under the baking Aswan sun.
Felucca collisions are frequent. Rarely serious, although the odd inexperienced sailor has been known to capsize. Captain Abdullah was a fine sailor - although seemingly common to all captains in Aswan he exhibited an unnerving enjoyment of minor collisions, they cannot really be classed as accidents as they seem intentional - like the kisses, hugs and other signs of affection between men common to the region. Head on collisions at a snails pace brought the most mirth, accompanied by large toothy and toothless grins all round.
The Aswan felluca ride was trumped a few days later in the larger city of Luxor, by my most exotic mode of transport yet. The Valley of the Kings, some 5 km west of Luxor which can be reached by various modes of transport, some fast like a taxi, others a little slower on a tour bus or for those with time to kill and little aversion to mounting a saddle by a turbo charged Egyptian donkey.
Introduced to mine just after 5.30 am, I was ready for a dawn trek over the rugged desert terrain west of Luxor. My guide, Saraba had chosen the two best donkeys in Luxor, or so I was told. One was a lot bigger than the other, a reflection on Saraba's wirey frame versus mine, it was no surprise I was offered the big one. We had some altitude to climb, and knowing whats its like to haul my weight up a mountain side from the cycling, a strong donkey is a must for the slopes, but it makes for an excitable and relatively fast donkey on the flats.
I was pretty certain, suspecting a purely functional relationship between man and beast that my donkey was simply called 'Donkey' - which Saraba confirmed. After hauling 'Donkey' to a halt after another sprint after the overtaking truck I opted for a more suitable moniker - 'Suleimain the Magnificant' after the Ottoman leader. Suleimain, Saraba and myself after a few hours up and down the desert hills found ourselves looking down on the Valley of the Kings - where many Egyptian Kings of the Old Kingdom were buried, once it had been decided Pyramids advertised the location of each tombs treasures. Without a guidebook and armed with the cheaper ticket, allowing entry to only 3 of a few dozen tombs I picked the most complicated looking ones with the smallest queues. Each underground tomb included long passages to the tomb room and was adorned with fanastic 2 dimensional, highly symobolic Egyptian art, which one day I should really try to understand a little better, but they looked good.
Leaving the tombs I headed back up the hillside to try and find Saraba and Suleimain who I had lost. A few minutes passed when an Alabaster salesman asked if he could help, he was perplexed when I replied 'Im climbing the mountain to find my donkey'.
From Luxor it was a 18 hour bus ride back to Dahab to make a certain connection... yep, my flight back to London. Its over... or at least will be when I touch down at the, unlike Dahab, cold and no doubt wet London Gatwick airport. Its been nearly 6 months on the road and its time for the next challenge, not as physicalling demanding for sure but everybit as interesting I hope and thats the rest of my life... (I can hear your pained groans from here)
It has been a fascinating experience which has lived up to my expectations, which is quite something given the amount of time I spent at my old desk in London daydreaming whilst waiting for paychecks before my departure.
So this is most likely my last post to the website, thanks for following and goodnight ...
Daniel.
(get on your bikes)
Cairo, Egypt
Captain Abdullah
Felucca on the Nile
Luxor, Tombs on the West Bank
Saraba chasing Suleimein
posted by BORIS at 15:56
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