T'Egypt

Sharm el Sheikh

Happy Reunions, Whenwe were all firm

A week in Sharm was supposed to involve a week of relaxation with my parents. It was supposed to allow me to rest after the first half of the trip and give me the energy to complete the second half. However it gave me food poisoning. And I spent much of the week either using the toilet or being very aware where the closest one was. Luckily it wasn’t only me and we all took it in turns to get a bit better and get a bit worse again. The chemists here must make a fortune of us tourists and our dodgy stomachs. I tied a concoction of different antibiotics, anti-inflammatories and pain killers in my quest to feel normal again. Eventually either they worked or someone got bored of playing with me because, it didn’t kill me! It was good however to catch up with my mum and dad and as we had an apartment there was plenty of room for one of us to be dyeing quietly at a safe enough distance from the others.

We stayed in Naqb Bay which was a lot quieter that Na’ama Bay. I like it there. Our apartment was on the outskirts of the town. Even though we were all ill, we managed to have a good time. Days were spent by the pool or the beach (always within spitting distance of a good clean toilet) and then followed by a nice meal at night and obviously a few drinks.

Our Pool

On one of the ‘firmer’ days we became quite confident and hired bikes to cycle down to the town on. Having spent 7 months with good cycle paths in Italy I didn’t expect much from the Egyptian equivalents. Although to be fair apart from the regular missing paving stones the cycle paths weren’t that bad. They even had a little detour to a hotel reception at one point. And like any good cycle path, there has to be pedestrians walking along them looking at you blankly as you try to cycle past them. I don’t think I’ll ever understand the look of shock on people faces when they see a person on a push bike on a cycle path. Maybe I’ve been away from England for too long.

We visited ‘Soho Square’ which we were told is the ‘up and coming’ area. It was very nice. We found a restaurant that specialised in Indian, Egyptian, Thai and Chinese food. As much as I wanted a curry, I knew it wasn’t in my best interest so I opted for something I knew my stomach could contain. Chicken noodles, no spice, no chillies. It was good, in fact it may have been because I had been living of crackers and crisps but it may have been the nicest noodle dish I’d ever had.

We also found ‘The Queen Vic Pub’ It had the name from Eastenders but it didn’t have any likeness to it, not that I really care, I’ve never liked Eastenders is always doom and gloom. It was a nice place to sit at during the day. We came back later in the week and it was here I had chicken goujans, although I think that something was lost in translation as when my food arrived it was 2 huge breasts of chicken. Not one to complain (as they tasted good) I ate them down and tested how good my Egyptian pills had been working. They passed the test and I managed to feel normal all day after :-) Unfortunately the same can’t be said for my dad, who’ turn it was to make friends with the toilet bowl.

As the week drew to an end, and our health began to return to normal we realised how little time a week is when you factor in all the health complaints we had all had. On our last day we all got a transfer to the airport at the same time. I was flying to Cairo, my parents back to Manchester. We said our good buys as I went through security and I began to realise that I’m going away for a long time (if all things go well). It’s something that I don’t really allow myself to think about, because I know I can always come home if I want to. 

My Best Friend In Egypt

Cairo

18^th November

So I’ve had three nights in Cairo and I think I have gone against what one feels is expected of them in a city. I have relaxed and recharged my batteries. After my bout of stomach problems in Sharm el Sheikh I was grateful to feel like myself again and I decided this was the perfect time to recuperate. I arrived after my relatively short (not as short as Tel Aviv – Amman flight) flight in the late afternoon, early evening into Cairo to a nice taxi driver waiting to take me to my hostel. Within 5 minutes of being in the car I had learned a few words in Arabic (sorry they’ve all gone now) and my little tour of Cairo had begun, all to the back drop of sunset. Quite emotional really, or maybe that was because I’d just said goodbye to my parents in Sharm?

Baron Palace

Once at my hotel I was impressed by my room, I even had a balcony and best of all the wifi connection was strong. After a week without it I cannot believe how much of a slave I am to modern technology. At some point in time I may want to detox but that certainly isn’t going to happen any time soon.

I arranged for the next day to be taken on a tour of Giza the site of the pyramids I associate with Egypt and to Sakara. This was the site of the first Egyptian pyramid and it was designed as a step pyramid and not as a smooth front as the ones I think of when I think of pyramids. My guide Ahmed and my driver Ahmed took very good care of me and after the initial introductions we were heading through morning traffic toward Sakara. I was surprised how green Cairo is; I guess being so close to the river (biggest in the world) has its benefits.  Once in Sakara I was given a brief history of the place. The king of the third dynasty of Egypt had decided that he didn’t want is body to be left in a normal tomb which his previous kings had had. He wanted something that would provide safety for his possessions and so carry them forward with him into the afterlife. I’m presuming that you know that in Egyptian times it was common knowledge that you actually could and did take wealth with you when you died and so tombs which contained a person’s earthly treasures was the standard way to leave this mortal world. It also provided tomb raiders with a steady flow of income.

Foot step in the Sand

This new king didn’t want the same to happen to his wealth once he passed so he sought someone to design a tomb structure which would be secure enough to prevent tomb raiders from having their wicked way. The design was a pyramid 60 meters high which gained height with every step. 6 steps took the pyramid to its summit. Happy with the design the king decided he liked it and he’d have it, he changed a few things as you can do when you are buying of plan so to speak and the result was the step pyramid at Sakara with we see today. Due to thousands of year’s worth of decay the Egyptian government is spending money on restoration of this pyramid in the hopes it’ll last for a good few more years.

We had a quick visit to a pyres ‘museum’ which turned out to be more of a shop where they showed you how pyres paper was made and then you could buy some authentic government priced (but still up for negotiation) pictures hand painted on pyres paper. I must admit the process was quite ingenious and it is much stronger than the paper which my flight details are printed on to but having no home as such the idea of buying one was the furthest thing from my mind. However the shop worker didn’t seem to accept that I had no need for any pictures as he kept telling me how small they could make them or that they could ship it to my home address.  Eventually I found my guide and we left, I understand that this is how people make money, commissions and such, but just wish it wasn’t.

Next stop was Giza. The crowds were huge. If it hadn’t been for Ahmed going buying my entrance ticket then I wouldn’t have gone in the crowds were so bad. Once inside again Ahmed gave me a brief history of the different pyramids. About how each king/pharaoh had they designed for themselves for after they’d died. How the three grand pyramids in front of me actually belonged to father son and grandson and that the small pyramids around the basis of each pyramid each belonged to the wives of the pharaohs. He also explained that the biggest pyramid was the oldest and his son (I forget his name but I’m sure it was a girl’s name) wanted a pyramid to show his wealth and power but decided to have one slightly smaller than his father’s out of respect. The third and most distant pyramid in the picture is the smallest and belongs to the grandson pharaoh. Turns out by the time he came to die Egypt didn’t have as much money as it was (credit crunch seems to have happened before) and so an extravagant pyramid was out of the question, it is also said that he didn’t see himself as a god as his father and grandfather had done he just saw himself as a king and as such did not need such a large pyramid and he settled for a small one. Quite cute really. The Sphinx is also there as you can see, by the time he was explaining the history of the sphinx I was being irritated by kids selling postcards so I began to lose concentration on the story. All I can remember at this time is that it’s a mixture of a lion and the head of the owner of the middle pyramid. If you want to know more I’d recommend googling it, I’ve done it once or twice and it’s amazing what you can find there.

I don't like Crowds

No I dont want a Camel

Hard to Believe thats the best view. And it's from KFC

Obligatory Picture

That night I had a walk to the local KFC and had myself some fried chicken. It was nice and this along with a diet of antibiotic and codeine had prevented my stomach from repeating the illness I suffered in Sharm. I know Cairo has this image of being chaotic and disorganised, and it is, I felt much safer at night there than I do walking even around Manchester at night. I’m sure it was safe and I’m also sure I stuck out like a sore thumb, being blond and all, but I think this feeling of security was born from the fact that no one was trying to get me to buy anything from them. They were happy for me to just walk past; either that or they could tell I had no money.

On my third and final day in Cairo I met Mohammed, a friend I had found on couch surfing who had invited me for a coffee and a chat, and so we did. We went to a coffee shop which I would never have known about had it not been for him and we spoke about everything. Turns out he’s been out of work due to the global recession for 3 years and although he spoke many languages had never left Egypt, although he desperately wanted to do, and soon. Turns out we both love Whoopi Goldburg films and apparently Mr Been has an Egyptian following too. After eating at a place which wasn’t an American Franchise for the first time in 3 days I tried some authentic Egyptian cuisine, I was told what I had eaten in Sharm was Middle Eastern and not Egyptian. I tried some of his Egyptian pie, it was like a sandwich made with flour tortillas, it was good, think a bit of meet and mushrooms would have done it some good. But being cautious of my stomach I settled at only one piece and then continued to drink my coke and eat my burger.

The Nile not looking so Great

The evening came and I felt as though I was finally getting an idea of the way Cairo works. The next morning was my flight to Istanbul and so I did all I could do which was set my alarm, utilise free wifi and then went to sleep, ready for an early start and the reintroduction to wearing a coat again.  

 

A few Hours in Jordan

7th November

Ok, let’s be honest, I had 20 hours in Jordan, there isn’t going to be much for me to talk about here. Ironically enough when I boarded the flight I noticed I was being treated. I had a seat back TV I was having pre flight drinks, I had an assigned seat! I had totally forgotten what it feels like to fly on an airline which actually provides a good level of customer service. Maybe flying with all the Ryanair's of the world all the way to Australia wasn’t such a great idea ;) (Only kidding). Because of unrest in the area instead of getting a coach to Sharm el Sheikh I was getting two planes. My new routing would be a flight to the Jordanian Capital Amman and then the next day a little hop down to Sharm el Sheikh.

The flight was so short that there wasn’t even enough time for a bar service (hence why I was getting a pre-flight drink) The man sat next to me told me he did the route often and that normally from take off until landing (i.e. excluding the bit when you drive along the floor) the flight takes all of 23 minutes. The seat belt sign never came off once during the flight. And before I’d even had chance to get partway through the in-flight guide I was coming into land into Amman Airport.

After my fears and concerns of being refused entry to Israel proved pointless I didn’t think that any other destination on my trip would prove difficult to enter. Oh how wrong I was. As I approached the immigration officer with my pre purchased visa in hand I could sense he was having a bad day. He looked at me; he looked at the picture in my passport. He asked how old the picture was. I offered 8 years (I did think it a little obvious since my passport was issued 8 years ago but I know better than to argue with immigration officials. He looked at me; he looked at the picture in my passport. And He looked at me; he looked at the picture in my passport. Finally he asked me for some other proof of id. Lucky I didn’t have any and when I explained this, the game continued. He looked at me; he looked at the picture in my passport. He looked at me; he looked at the picture in my passport. Only this time I was asked occasionally why I have no other proof of id. Until eventually he got a friend who he spoke with in Arabic. His friend seemed to be on my side. I think the fact I had a boarding card for my next flight would help assist with the matter.

It didn’t

Instead it took two more of his colleagues to say to him and I’m paraphrasing and assuming an understanding of Arabic which I don’t have. ‘Just stamp his passport and stop creating a queue.’

So he did, thankfully and then I found myself late for my bus and so stuck at the airport for 55 more minutes. Coach, barter with a taxi driver, walk of and leave taxi driver and a find a better taxi driver later I was on the way to my hostel. Transport from the airport to Amman centre is not good. Full of ideas of exploring the city at night, all I wanted to do was sleep, so that’s what I did. Or at least tried to do until morning came and my dorm mates decided to get up at what I thought was 5 o’clock. It turned out to be six because I had gone forward an hour but still; it’s a very early start. I lay in bed hoping to go back to sleep which eventually came.

Once up I had a coffee, breakfast and a coffee again. I decided to try and see some of the city. I saw the old Roman amphitheatre, but they charged to go in and the view I had was just as good so didn’t bother paying entrance fee. I also saw some other ruins which were hidden behind an ugly green fence. Funny they never show those types of pictures on the internet do they?

Time for a quick picture from the top of my hotel and I was back on my way to the airport. A very quick stop in Amman but I think I saw all I wanted to see. Next time I’m in Jordan, definitely have to see Wade Rum and Petra, fingers crossed I don’t get an ear infection that time too! 

My Israel - In a Nutshell

7^th November

OK truth be told I’m writing you this entry a little after the events have occurred. See I was so busy enjoying myself that I just plain forgot to write about it. Plus as a very weak excuse the use of my laptop was somewhat prohibited because the good people of Manchester airport had decided to separate my box of electronics when they were being re scanned, only they didn’t tell me so guess who left a box full of electronic devices and chargers in Manchester Airport for a week? Still I guess it was a little holiday for them too.

Anyhow back to Israel. I had heard horror stories regarding difficulties being allowed entrance into Israel and the Palestinian territories. Turns out I needn’t have worried. Once at Tel Aviv’s Ben Gurion Airport I was beckoned forward at immigration by a young, pretty female immigration officer, now my first thought was, you don’t see many f those about.  Please bear on mind I have expected to be placed back on the plane to Manchester the way my luck had been going of late. The conversation flowed as such:

Immigration Officer: What is the purpose of your visit?

Me: Holiday

Immigration Officer:  Where are you staying?

Me: Natanya

Immigration Officer (now a little confused): Why?

Me: I’m staying with a friend

Immigration Officer: An Israeli friend

Me: Yes, well she has an English passport too (unsure if I have said the right thing or not) here’s her name and Address

Immigration Officer: Ok enjoy your trip

When I retold this story to Liat, my ‘Israeli friend with an English passport too’ I discovered that Natanya is a little seaside town, full of old folk. I think the average age may be around 70 (ok I’m making that up) but I was told it is definitely a place the immigration officer would never have expected a single male traveller to be visiting. I like to think I made that pretty officer smile when I answered her question, especially when she thought of me lay on the beach next to all the wrinkly bodies.

My first noted able thing about Israel was that everywhere I looked I could see people, young people in their early twenties in military uniforms carrying guns. No one even flinched it was so normal. Apparently it’s because between the ages of 18 and 22 it is compulsory for Israeli’s to do national service. The military members where their uniform when commuting to and from work and the gun must be with them at all times. Although it doesn’t have to be armed when they are off duty. It was also clear that security measures are taken very seriously here. It’s not possible to enter a train station, bus station of shopping centre without having to go through airport style security checks. I think the amazing thing about this system is how easy it was to forget it was happening and just accept it as normal.

Natanya

Ok so I stayed here with Liat for 3 nights. She is living with her grandmother and since it is within an hour of Tel Aviv it seemed pointless paying for a hotel in Tel Aviv when we could just get a share taxi home after. Our first night was spent catching up on gossip since Italy and the next day was spent pretty much the same. Except this time we walked a little outside too. Having arrived at night I didn’t get to see the sea upon my arrival so today I was being walked into Natanya the scenic coastal way. It was nice. I’d like to show you pictures but on this faithful night I was about to embark upon I lost ‘me phone (not me shoes).

See we had decided to go into Natanya, get the bus to Tel Aviv and then stay there for the night. It was great I saw the sights of Natanya. Well to be fair there wasn’t many. There was a square which used to be nice but was undergoing renovation, there was the beach and sea which was very blue and then there was the woman mannequin in the shop who had had a boob job. Seriously they were like two water melons, and the clothes she modelled never enhanced her ‘natural’ shape. Unfortunately that’s probably the best I can make out of Natanya so you won’t hear anymore about it.

Once in Tel Aviv we saw the 3 tall sky scrapers, whose name I never discovered. They are the symbol of modern Tel Aviv and are shaped as thus 1 is square, one is triangular and one is round. They did make the sky look pretty. We decided to take ourselves to Jaffa, the old part of the city where we had a walk around the old streets and watched how the skyline changed suddenly into a modern metropolis. I did get some really good photographs of the skyline and of old Jaffa but like I say I lost my phone with the camera and pictures in it, so I’ve made do best as I can with Google image search.

A nice skyline can only draw your attention so much so Liat and I decided it was time to begin the night. It was already dark and there was a local drink Liat was dying for me to taste. It’s called Arak and is 40% proof and tastes aniseed esque. I didn’t enjoy it. We had even paid extra to have the flavour enhanced with a hint of coffee. The coffee flavour only lasted for one shot. After a few more shots we decided enough was enough and it was time to start drinking beer. In essence it was a good idea because I like beer, but as I got home later that night I realised that somewhere between my first arak and my last beer, my phone had found its way out of my shorts pocket and was lost forever.

The next morning arrived far too quickly and catching up on sleep was all I was interested in. A week of sleeping on people’s floors and sofas in England is not good for anyone’s sleeping pattern and I was seriously behind the amount of hours I needed. Sacrificing a day on the beach I slept and slept and slept a little bit more. That night was a quiet one and it was just what I needed.

Jerusalem

So the next day Liat was working until 1500 so we decided I would go to Jerusalem and she would come and meet me after work. The hotel we stayed in was clean, and had wifi. I think those are the only positives I can find. The ‘designer’ (I use the term loosely) had a great idea that in order to make the room appear like it had windows, curtains should be hung.

Less complaining about the room and more talk about Jerusalem itself. I walked around the old city and saw the Wailing Wall. I actually felt like an intruder stood there watching everyone pray. The history behind the wall is that there was once a Jewish house of worship there like a million years ago and now the only part that remains of it is this wall. I think the idea is that you write down what it is you want from god, pray and then stuff it into the wall (just as you do this about 5 other peoples wishes come falling out).  I’d like to say I wished for something profound and selfless but I didn’t. I didn’t even get close enough to stuff in my piece of paper, being non-Jewish it felt almost disrespectful to be there observing, who’d have thought it eh. 

I saw the supposed place which Jesus was crucified on and then the tomb which he was buried in, and then I read information which said it wasn’t. Either way there was a big church there which again seemed to attract a lot of very strongly religious people and to be honest I didn’t feel as though I should be there. Maybe this is religion trying to tell me something.

After my Jewish and my Christianity places of worship making me feel as though I don’t belong I shouldn’t have been surprised by the response I got when I tried to enter the Golden Domed Mosque. I’ll set the scene, man in front of me walks past the security guard, gets waved in and almost receives a smile from the armed guard. I try to enter and the guard says to me ‘Closed- come back tomorrow!’ I would have argued, well not argued but at least questioned, stated I just wanted to go in for a picture and I would be really quick; but the guard had a gun, and I’m smart enough not to answer back to a bloke with a gun so I turned 180 degrees and vowed to look on Google images to find out what the inside looks like. It’s fair to say I felt rejected by 3 religions that first day in Jerusalem, I don’t think I’ve ever hit such a low spot in my life.

So Liat arrived and after our very English night out in Tel Aviv we decided to attempt an Israeli night out. For those of you unaware of what this entails, an Israeli night out revolves around having maybe one drink of alcohol and making it last the entire night, or supplementing it with snacks, food, water and maybe shisha. The purpose of the night is not to get drunk; it was a difficult concept to overcome when you think of the binge drinking mentality that is standard in England. I am proud to say we did it. We ordered two very large expensive beers which neither of us had heard of before and enjoyed them, whilst people watching.

The Dead Sea

Our next day was devoted to visiting the lowest place on Earth, The Dead Sea. I thought Liat was exaggerating when she said don’t put your head in the water as you might swallow some of the water and need hospitalisation, that is until I saw the sign displaying that very same information. You can imagine both of our shock when we saw a fellow English man trying to snorkel in the sea. I don’t think he saw much. The bus ride to Ein Gedi (the location of our beach) took about 2 hours or there abouts from Jerusalem. Because it was daylight and because I was actually paying attention to the scenery this time, I really got a sense of how high Jerusalem is, no wonder it was that little bit cooler. Thankfully the temperature at the beach that day was 37 degrees, and it felt great! 

Once at the sea there was only one thing for us to do, try and sink. It didn’t work, and I really tried. When I discovered that no amount of effort on my part would stop me from floating in this huge puddle of salty water, we decided it was time to crack open a tinny and do what Brits abroad do best,  have a beer in the midday sun, but this time floating in the sea. It was almost like club Tropicana only minus the lilo.

Once we’d had us beer it was time to make our skin all fresh and youthful so we followed some people who had discovered a hole of mud in the rocks, and we plastered each other’s bodies with this mineral rich mud. As the mud dried I started to question why we had done this in the first place but still it’s nice to know what I would have looked like had I been born black. I think I could pull it off. Anyway whilst the sun was drying our mud and the mud was doing whatever it did to our skin we enjoyed our second ‘tinny’ and then waddled off into the sea to clean ourselves up.

Ok not really us

When we had finally dried off we waded back up to the road where the bus had delivered us, we found what looked like a leaving party for the people who had just finished their compulsory military service. I wanted to try and join in but Liat didn’t think my Hebrew was up to the level required for me to pass as an Israeli and instead we went to wait for our bus back to Jerusalem. That night we had decided to go out again, but this time earlier to make the most of our last night in the holy city. I was glad we did. It might not last until 4 am but Jerusalem is a really good night out and it’s really not expensive. We were paying 24 shekels (£4) for a large beer, with a shot and with shisha if we wanted it. Had we both had a phone each I’m sure we could have utilised the wifi there but as we had both lost them on our last English night out, it wasn’t possible. Still I would definitely recommend Jerusalem for a night out, just maybe not a stag/hen do.

Bethlehem

The birth place of our Lord Jesus Christ happens to be in the Palestinian territories. The bus ride there took us up even higher into the hills and I started to get an understanding of how much effort it must have been to move about back when Jesus, Mary and Joseph were creating their stories. I’m glad it wasn’t me. Anyhow back to my journey we got dumped by the bus next to some group of hotels and it soon became apparent we would have to take a taxi to get to the church of the nativity, the place which is the place which once housed the stable which Mary and Joseph stayed in all those years before. The journey was a little bit of a nightmare.

Having agreed on one price our driver decided to stop, on the side of the road, part way there to offer us his services as a driver. He offered us many destinations on a tour we could design ourselves, which would display all that Bethlehem and its surrounding areas had to offer. He would gallantly deliver us to each of our chosen destinations. Unfortunatly we didn’t want to go anyplace else, despite what a good price he was offering. It took us ten minutes to finally persuade him of this. Those ten minutes spent by the side of the road looking through his brochures seemed more like hours, all I wanted to do was look at a little church. Eventually we found a way to make him believe and we found ourselves at the birth place of Christ. We entered the church and the que was huge. The queue was not to enter the church but to see under the alter, the stone on which Jesus was born. If Mary gave birth on a stone it must have been very comfortable. I think it makes me really appreciate the NHS and the fact that I won’t ever have to give birth to children. 

Feeling as though the day’s events so far had been traumatic, there was only one thing for it, it was beer o’clock. And were better to have a beer than the church of the Nativity, we toasted to Jesus. It was also food time so we thought it would be rude not to try a little Palestinian cuisine. Fed and watered I was off to attempt to find a person who could give me a traditional cut throat shave. It was not a good experience. As you can tell from my limited pictures my beard had grown a little. This was because my beard trimmers had broken and I had yet to find a place which sold some at a reasonable price which didn’t involve bartering. Since I was beginning to look like a ginger Father Christmas it seemed the right time to get it all shaved off. The only problem with it was that my wound I had after my biking accident in Italy was still tender, hidden under my whiskers and when it came to the time for him to remove the hair from my chin, my wound began to open again. Luckily not enough to require stitches or anything to that extreme but enough for me to stop him catch my breath and continue the shave with a machine. I’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, I don’t like being clean shaven.

Tel Aviv

It was soon time for goodbyes again as it was my last night in Israel and Liat had to go to work. This time goodbyes were said at a bus station as we both parted and went in our separate ways. I’m not a fan of goodbyes; they seem to be happening all too often these days though. My final night in Tel Aviv was spent with a man I met from Couch Surfing. He showed me the expensive side of Tel Aviv. Asaf was a part time general in the military and spent the night trying to persuade people that I was an English hypnotist. It seemed to convince some people, but others are a little more sceptical with their beliefs.

The next day all I had to do was pack up and make sure I was ready for my flight to Jordan. I had originally planned on missing Jordan because of my week in the UK. My second plan had involved a coach down from the Dead Sea to Eilat on the Israeli Red Sea coast and then crossing into Egypt at the Taba border crossing and get a bus down to Sharm el Sheikh. However looking into the area it seemed too risky and buses on my particular route had been targeted by bandits. None of the attacks had resulted in any deaths but the most recent involved being held hostage for 8 hours. I’ve never been one for long coach journeys so decided best to use my back up plan flight to Amman, an overnight stay and then a flight to Sharm El Sheikh from there. Still was just enough time before leaving for the airport to head down to the beach, get a drink and take in my last few glimpses of the Mediterranean Sea.