Kilos of cardboard, meters of tape, blood, sweat, tears and an alcohol-marker; that's what it took. The cab-driver has been paid, the porters ripped me off, and after some reconsideration check-in has decided to accept my cargo without further hassle. Reluctantly the canvas-bag I especially bought for this trip goes rolling down a series of wheels, out of sight into the logistic catacombs of the airport, whereas my dear bike is escorted away by two though ground attendants. Soon I'll be flying off to Oman.
Immediately after I arrived to Cairo quite some weeks ago, I realised Yemen wouldn't make for a very smart travel destination. The boat I was planning to take would be extremely difficult to arrange, and eventough Saudi Arabia was willing to issue me a transit visum for free, the rising unrest and kidnappings I understood from the news, as well as the seemingly impossibility to travel around ndependently, combined with the HIV-test the Cairo embassey obliged me to take, made me decide to change my travel plans.
All this resulted in the possibility to stay in Egypt for another couple of weeks. What I used it for? Mainly just for one thing; doing 'nothing'.
Christmas was celebrated in style by visiting the pyramids of Sakkara and Dashur, a over-indulgence of alcoholic substances and funky dances (among which 'Drive the bus' and 'Pick the orange'). Besides that I also applied for my Iranian visum on Christmas-day. and started my personal Cairo-embassy mapping project.
At New Year's my father, brother and steph-family came over for a visit, also carrying a very usefull supply of spare parts. How good it is to be able to hug the ones you love again! We spent a great week together; relaxing on one of the many Dahab beaches, doing some diving, a bit of snorkling, and some excursions. Besides that ofcourse there also was the great hotel my dad had booked; quite a difference from my little tent or the cheap and shabby places I have been staying in for the last couple of months. Big rooms including soft beds, air-co and every morning a massive first-class breakfast. Delicious.
But all good things come to an end, and after spending a full week together, duty was calling them for doing some usefull stuff back home again. Which is sometimes one of these things bothering you on a trip like this; at times you really wonder if there is actually anything usefull you are trying to archieve. So what I did was to join Joris and Stella and a big group of other cyclist in one of the many camps of 'downtown' Dahab, for, well, doing nothing again basically..
After spending a couple of weeks in the Red Sea dive-resort, I was starting to get this restless feeling again. Being totaly fed-up with the local shopkeepers, that kept on trying to make you pay more than you are supposed to, and the desolate emptyness of the supposed to be famous party town, in which in reality you would hardly be able to find anyone on the streets after 8pm, gave me a clear signal. It was time to get on the move again.
A bit worried about the upcomming loneliness, after many weeks of spending time with others, I pushed my bike into the Sinai, where even brother Wind decided he was not going to be my friend. But fortunately alone never really turns out to be alone. After a day of cycling bumped into a big tourgroup of Swiss cyclists, and a mere 100kms later Mishi and Pauline pulled me over to the side of the road.
Once in Cairo, some 600kms of continueus headwinds later (also the only real distance I rode in this last month), I reunited with Beat, and other cyclist and travelers I had met before (the Dahab hotel seems to be populair when it comes to these things).
Iran needed some more time, so I decided to start mapping the rest of the world in the meantime. Uzbekistan, France, Romania, Uganda, you name them, they all have embassies in Cairo, and I know where to find them. Have been doing a usefull job, however, I fear I spend a lot more time visiting the different diplomatic quarters, then I spend on walking around in the much more interesting areas of Islamic and Coptic Cairo.
Ofcourse, a visit to Cairo wouldn't be complete without a gaze at the famous pyramids of Giza. While processing the many kilo's of cardboard I needed to ensure a safe transport of my beloved 'agala', I was most fortunately able to spare some time for a visit to the last existing Wonder of the World. The first thought I had upon arriving there: 'This place looks like Disney Land'. Truly a mad and crazy place.
Load after load bus passangers are dropped off and queueing for taking a snap of the Sphinx and then pushing around Cheops en-masse. Cammelriders are aggressively trying to get you to ride one of their animals (no thanks, I already experienced that form of torture) and once it is your turn to try and take a nice slide of the pyramids, postcard sellers will line up right in front of your camera. Taking some distance and dully walking off into the desert causes a small miracle though; all annoying salesmen and tourists disappear, and it's you and Giza out there..
Then, all of a sudden comes the realisation yet another two weeks have gone by, without you even noticing it. However, in the mean time someone put a very nice visum to Iran in your passport, you are the proud owner of a flight-ticket to Oman, and half an hour before you expected it a taxi-driver is pounding on your door. Time to say goodbye to all new friends you met in the last couple of weeks. But, the good thing is, there will be some real cycling on the schedule again. Oman, Dubai and Iran, here I come..
