Upper Egypt Trip - Part One - Train to Cairo

It was a long wait at the train station, and now I had found my row, son in tow, but there were people in our seats. I’d heard of this happening in Egypt. I squared my shoulders.

“You’re in my seat,” I proclaimed, in what I hoped was an authoritative tone.

My tone had approximately zero effect. The interlopers trying to steal my way to Cairo stared resolutely ahead. More passengers were pressing in from behind me.

“Look!” I said, brandishing my tickets which clearly stated these exact seat numbers.

“I have the same seat numbers,” said a voice behind me. It was one of those matter-of-fact no-nonsense sturdy Egyptian ladies that you do not want to mess with. She was wearing a jaunty pink hijab, somewhat at odds with her stern demeanor.

Oi, is it possible they triple-booked these seats? I pictured my parents arriving at the Cairo airport early the next morning with no one to greet them. I trembled.

“Let me see those tickets,” said the not-to-be-messed-with Egyptian lady. Of course I handed them over, a split second after she snatched them from my hand. My 6-year-old son Oscar started getting a bit twitchy, sensing my tension. I could feel sweat starting to sprout from my pores. I glanced desperately towards the other end of the carriage where my husband was waiting with the bags.

“This is the wrong date,” the lady informed me, indicating the tickets. I stared at the Arabic numbers on the paper but my brain stubbornly refused to translate.

“I can’t read this,” I said to myself.

“It’s in English here,” said the lady dryly. “See, it says Apr 4, and it’s Apr 14.”

You know that sinking feeling, the dread, when you realize things are about to go horribly wrong.

Yeah, I had that.

The next few minutes are a bit of a panicked blur. I remember looking over the heads of the passengers trying to get past me, towards my husband, who couldn’t see me. At some point my son’s twitchiness turned to distress as we got pushed into the treacherous space between cars. Richard managed to make his way to us as I tried to explain our situation to various people, hoping to find someone who worked there or knew something. Oscar started crying in earnest and attempted to flee the train despite my iron grip on his slippery, sweaty hand.

Then the train pulled away.

Oscar screamed, I sweated, and Richard fumed.

“You will have to pay a fine and there will be no seats,” a man said.

Great, three hours standing on a train with three suitcases and a screaming child. Richard and I looked at each other in despair.

Then, the pink hijab lady came and saved the day.

“There are lots of seats here,” she said, regarding the ill-informed man disdainfully. “Come with me.”

She sorted out seats for us, checked on us during the journey, booked us a cab to get us to the hotel and even directed us out of Ramesses station, waited for the car and made sure we got in. All while wrangling a large family group with small children, pulling her luggage with one hand and carrying a baby in the other arm.

She brushed off our thanks saying she knows what it’s like, having been lost in Europe before.

As we piled into the car while issuing additional profuse thanks, I wished I’d gotten her name, but it is nice to know there are good people out there.

Rouqayah’s Ranch

After a few days at Rouqayah’s Ranch we are full of fresh air and healthy organic food. My hair is full of bounce. I’m convinced it’s from the fresh well water, a welcome change from the heavily chlorinated tap water in Alex. Even the pool at the ranch is full of untreated fresh water. The water gets emptied into the fields every few days and the pool gets refilled for the next guest.

Oscar got to meet a lot of friendly farm animals and one unfriendly hissing goose. I’ve never been a fan of geese, swans or opossums. I’ve been hissed at by all three and I’m convinced they are mean, nasty creatures. We had a roasted bird for lunch the next day and I was rather hoping it was the offending goose. Turns out it was duck. I'm not worried, his day will come.

We were unusually close to our food. We saw a cow being milked and the milk was used in our pasta sauce the next day. We saw the lettuce being picked that would end up in our salad an hour later. We toured the fields with olive trees, wheat, barley, fig trees, banana trees, vegetables and herbs. Much of the food we saw in the fields would be used for the olive oil, jams, salads and meals for future guests. Instead of a hundred-mile market, our food all came from a 100-metre non-market. Farm to table at it's finest.

Oscar had two horseback riding lessons on a beautiful mare, Asal. He’s a natural. Oscar, not the horse. I'm sure the horse is a natural as well. If they've started mass producing artificial horses, I missed the memo. I was so proud. Of Oscar. He was riding on his own after 30 minutes. I completely trusted Rouqayah and Hassam to assess his ability and take care of him during the lesson. Later, Oscar and I had a hilariously fun bouncy donkey cart ride. Totally worth the butt splinters.

The downside of the trip? The weather. We’d kind of banked on the pool providing entertainment for Oscar, but it was quite cold and windy. Everything is usually more fun in the pool but he went in for a couple of minutes and was shivering like an electric toothbrush. After the failed pool experiment, the horse and donkey rides, game of footy, game of catch, playing with the dogs, playing with the cats, an hour on the kindle, countless rounds of UNO and various animal introductions, this is what my son had to say:

“I’m bored - there’s nothing to do!”

Oi.

Fortunately our host, Rouqayah, in addition to looking after all her animals and her crops and cooking up lovely organic meals, still has time to “borrow” an easily-bored six-year-old to “help” around the farm. Rouqayah is a British lady who moved to Egypt on her own with only a smattering of Arabic and started a farm. Respect. I get thrown for loop trying to mail a letter.

Two months of living in Egypt

A building outside my regular coffee shop in Alexandria.

I’ve been in Egypt just over two months now and I’m getting to know the neighbourhood. I'm still not a huge fan of Roushdy (where the post office is) but the Wingat area to the east is pleasant and starting to feel more familiar. I’ve adopted a local coffee shop, baker, market and produce vendor. When I walk to and from the school I often exchange a small wave or head nod with a boab or a vendor who recognizes me. It’s a small thing but it makes me feel more like a part of the community.

Many of the folks who used to stare at me appear to have gotten bored, since I pass by them four or more times a day and I am really not that fascinating to look at. Venturing further out of my regular area I do still get some looks. Sometimes I pretend that I am a super famous actress trying to be incognito. Next time I’m considering wearing a headscarf, sunglasses, high heels and bright red lipstick. Not sure if I would get more looks or less looks that way.

I’m still not great at discerning who is being genuinely friendly and who is being weird. I chatted with an old man today who seemed friendly enough and asked me to take his photo. Later he called me over and insisted I take a photo of a dog, grabbing it by the scruff of the neck until it whimpered. I yelled at him to stop and he did, but I was left a bit shaken.

I think most Egyptians are genuinely friendly though. It helps that I’ve been taking Arabic lessons. I’ve noticed that since I started using Arabic in the open-air market the prices have dropped by about one third. Egyptian vendors seem to be very trusting. Often if I don’t have small change they will say I can pay next time. When "next time" arrives and I try to pay, they seem to have completely forgotten about it.

Kids are much loved in Egypt. They are welcome anywhere, including restaurants, and tend to get fussed over. Oscar, being 6-years-old and blond, attracts a lot of attention. He (and I) have gotten used to having his hair ruffled by strangers. If I ever want really good service I bring him along. There is a dour bread baker near my apartment but when I get Oscar to buy the bread he actually cracks a smile. Oscar loves coming to the grocery store with me because someone will often sneak him a candy.

We rode the tram to the mall the other day and Oscar had a bit of a meltdown when there were no seats available. At the next stop, some Egyptians saved a seat for us so he could sit down. Then when Oscar was getting off the tram forgetting his toy on the seat, a man ran after us and gave it back to him.

The biggest surprise about Egypt is how safe it feels. Before I arrived I was very concerned about terrorism and local attitude towards foreigners and women. I’ve had a few… uncomfortable moments, but I have never felt unsafe. I’ve walked around by myself at night plenty of times with no issues at all. It’s probably safer here at night then many western places because there are no drunk hoodlums around.

I post here when I have something to say, but I've started posting daily photos on instagram. If you want to see the random things that take my fancy, you can follow me.

Girls night in Egypt

Smoking a shisha on the rooftop patio at Paradise Inn Windsor Palace Hotel.

I’m sitting on a rooftop patio with a cool breeze, sharing a shisha and (non-alcoholic) drinks with some new friends at the Paradise Inn Windsor Palace Hotel in Alexandria and over my shoulder are views of the Mediterranean and the city lights at night.

We are two Muslims and two non-Muslims, enjoying a peaceful night and getting to know each other. In this moment, our beliefs do not separate us. In fact, we have more in common than not. The factors and personality traits that led the four of us to leave our lives for the relatively unknown have common threads that weave us together.

In moments like these it becomes clear to me that people with different cultures and beliefs can accept each other nonetheless. I know from travelling around the world that people are good and bad and everywhere in between no matter where you go. My experience so far in Egypt has revealed that people here are like people anywhere. They live their lives, take their children to school, do their jobs and enjoy their free time.

Our little group of new friends is not part of some noble effort to unite people and cultures across the world. We are just people thrown together through circumstance, drawn together through the urge to make connections and living life as best we can.

We are all just people.

The Park of Pan and its later incarnations

In the heart of Alexandria there is a place that was once called Park of Pan. In the time of Ptolemy, it was basically a pleasure garden with a marble-seated amphitheatre, Roman baths and lecture halls. Thousands of years and several dynasties passed and over time the luxurious history of this spot was forgotten. It became known by the less glamorous name of Kom El Dekka (Mound of Rubble).

In the 60s the mound of rubble was removed to make way for a new building, uncovering ancient columns which lead to the excavation of the area. Under the rubble were some well preserved elements of the Park of Pan. Over 30 years the theatre was excavated and now it is one of the most popular monuments in Alexandria.

The Roman Theatre at Kom El Dekka was one of our stops on our tour of Alexandria. We had the place to ourselves, the only other people at the site were members of our tour. Our guide showed us around a small outdoor exhibition of Pharaonic and Greco-Roman era objects that have been found underwater at a nearby harbour.

While exploring on our own, an Egyptian man directed us towards tunnels under the amphitheatre. Oscar darted into the tunnels first and we made our way after him, balancing on makeshift bridges made of loose boards, feeling very Indiana Jonesish. Then back out into the glaring sun where the man demanded money for showing us the tunnels and we once again felt like tourists.

Oscar unhesitatingly darting off, his parents following closely behind.

My spell check insists Jonesish is not a word, but I stand by my choices.

The truth about Pompey's Pillar

About 300AD there was a Roman Emperor called Diocletian who exempted his people from paying taxes and made sure they had enough corn during a time of hardship (to be fair he did cause the famine by besieging the city). So the people erected a memorial pillar in honour of him (it seems the city folk were of a forgiving nature). Then, in the middle ages, someone starts spreading the story that the ashes, or possibly the head, of Roman General Pompey were kept at the top of this pillar. So everyone starts calling it “Pompey’s Pillar,” (which was not even true) even though, it says quite clearly on the pillar:

*To the right and good emperor, the protector god of Alexandria, Diocletian, who has never been beaten*

To this day, the memorial is called “Pompey’s Pillar.”

Poor old Diocletian.

5 Things I've Learned About Kafr Abdou, Alexandria

Kafr Abdou is the little area of Alexandria we live in. It encompasses the British School, the British Consulate, parks, villas, apartments, shops and restaurants. After a little over a week this area has started to seem familiar and we know our routes around town pretty well. Between our own experience and what we've heard from other ex-pats, here are 5 things we've learned about Kafr Abdou:

1. The area has fairly recently exploded with restaurants. One of Richard's colleagues told me that few years ago there were only three restaurants and now it seems like there is one on every corner. So far almost everyone gives their location in relation to a restaurant. Our playdate last night was beside Olé (a Spanish restaurant), we are above Bamboo (Indonesian) and the headmaster is near Bruxies (cafe and burgers). There are also plenty of shops selling chocolate, ice cream and sweets. Unfortunately I have yet to find an Egyptian restaurant but the International food has been scrumptious and affordable.

2. It's a small tight-knit area and everybody knows everybody. Apparently we would have been noticed straight away for three reasons; being new, being white and having a small child. Knowing this has actually made me feel more comfortable. I'm already feeling like part of the community. The bread guy even let me owe him three pounds when I didn't have enough change to get Oscar cookies as well as a loaf of bread. He put the cookies back in my shopping bag and said something in Arabic which another customer translated as "for the boy."

3. They loooove children here (and all over Alex). Our second day here I saw a lady ruffling Oscar's hair in the supermarket and soon discovered it's not unusual. When we were setting up our bank account the procedure was temporarily suspended so the customer service lady could engage in conversation with Oscar. This kind of thing happens all the time and Oscar eats up the attention. Plus you can take kids everywhere at all times of day or night, very different from Whitehorse where we have been kicked out of several potential lunch spots for having a child with us.

4. It's safe. It's really nothing like the media portrays it, at least in Kafr Abdou. Based on my research I was ready to walk around in a head scarf and sunglasses with my head down to avoid harassment but it's really not necessary. In fact, kids can often be seen playing outside by themselves, something becoming more rare in Canada. Being a white woman I do get a lot of stares but I dress very conservatively here and so far nothing has tingled the spidey senses. We did get a bit worried once when we heard some loud, harsh-sounding Arabic shouting coming from speakers outside our apartment. I apprehensively rushed out to take a look, imagining ominous black flags and machine guns. Turns out it was a guy riding a donkey pulling a cart of watermelons with a microphone and sound system peddling his wares.

5. The people are friendly... and helpful. Today was the first day I went to the open-air market without Richard and I had a much easier time than I anticipated. Egyptians jumped to my rescue several times translating and letting me know how to get a better deal. I can say "Bikam da?" in Arabic which means "How much is it?" but when I'm answered Arabic I am quite lost. There has always been someone to help out, either a merchant or a customer. I've had Egyptians greet me on the street with "Good Morning" or "Welcome" and seem pleased when I understand them and answer in English (although I am working on my Arabic.)

Our own little piece of New York in Kafr Abdou.

The outside of Qaitbay Citadel

Boats on the Mediterranean coast near the Qaitbay Citadel.

So my determination to dip my toes in the sea was crushed by human weakness. Namely, a head cold. I spent yesterday on the couch mopping up the copious amounts of mucous exiting my nose and feeling sorry for myself. A day at the beach was not super appealing in my feverish state so we decided against it.

This morning I felt like I was on the mend so we went to the Qaitbay Citadel, a 15th-century defensive fortress on the Mediterranean coast, about a half-hour drive from our apartment.

We used Uber for the first time and it was a success. We were picked up within a few minutes and the fare was only 24 LE (about 4 CAD).

When we arrived at 3:45pm we learned the Citadel closes at 4pm. Of course. So instead we went for a walk along the sea. Another. Long. Hot. Walk.

For me, the best part of the day was successfully directing the Uber in Arabic on the return journey using my handy dandy Phrasebook.

So, strike two for planning outings. One of these days we will get it right. For now, here is a photo of the outside of the Citadel.

The outside of Qaitbay Citadel (which closes at 4pm)

A trip to the beach... sans beach

Stanly Bridge on El Cournish Road and about the closest we got to the beach.

Yesterday we joined another family to explore the beach, about a 15-minute walk from where we live. The busy streets on the way to the beach were lined with fancy air-conditioned shops, open air convenience stands, food trucks and corn roasting stations. Vendors shouted over the cacophony of car horns. Colourful billboards towered over us and monochrome buildings over them. Every where I turned my senses were overwhelmed with colours, sounds and smells.

Crossing busy roads was like a twisted version of frogger. To cross one must confidently step in front of a car while fervently hoping they actually stop. The right of way does not seem to be dictated by traffic rules, but by boldness, whether pedestrian or car. It is a world away from the Yukon where cars slow down if they even think a pedestrian is considering crossing the road. Miraculously none of us were hit. On the way back we creepily stalked an Egyptian woman to get across El Horreya at a zebra crossing and in order to traverse the last lane we had to squeeze through two cars and pray they didn't accelerate.

Mercifully there was a pedestrian tunnel under El Cournish Road (the main road along the sea). By then I was very hot and eager to dip my toes in the cool sea. We approached several entrances to the beach but we were turned away because they were members-only beaches. Eventually one of our companions discovered that to get a spot on the public beach you need to be there at 10am and it costs 200 LE (about 20 British pounds or 33 Canadian dollars) per adult. Alternatively there was another beach 6 miles away where we might have better luck. At that point I could feel the rivulets of sweats making their way down my legs slowly gain the momentum approaching a small creek and opted to head back, once again facing the gauntlet of traffic, trains and vendors.

We haven't given up. Tomorrow we've decided to take a taxi to a beach further from the city where the teachers usually go on week-ends. I'm determined - my toes will meet sea this time!

Exploring the market in Kafr Abdou

Today we went into the market district to stock up our kitchen. The first stop was arranging the delivery of a couple of cases of water. It was supposed to arrive 30 minutes ago but hasn’t yet, so the jury is still out on that purchase. Then we shopped for fruits, vegetable and freshly cooked bread from crates stacked up on the side of the road. There was a lot of yelling going on between various vendors and customers, all part of the experience I guess. We just payed and moved on without attempting to bargain, possibly getting royally ripped off, but maybe not. In any case, it was not very expensive. The bread was the cheapest, six Egyptian pounds (about 60 pence or 1 CAD) for three croissants and four bread rolls.

First impressions of Alexandria, Egypt

I’m listening to the call to prayer coming in through our apartment window as evening sets in while eating spoonfuls of fresh mango we bought from an old lady on the street. It’s the second day of two years we will be living in Kafr Abdoul, Alexandria, Egypt.

We finally set foot in Egypt during the wee hours of yesterday morning having successfully navigated the Istanbul Airport (lots of walking), acquired tourist visas (25 USD per person from a kiosk at the airport after queuing whilst carrying a sleeping child) and navigated passport control (another queue).

By 4am a group of us were being driven to our hotel in a bus. In the dark, all I could see out the window was a few feet of desert on either side of the road. The air smelled of flowers and herbs and occasionally manure. After about half an hour we came to the sign for the Panacea hotel and travelled up a sandy road edged by crumbling walls. I exchanged looks with one our bus mates, both of us a bit dubious, and mentally prepared myself to spend the night in "rustic" condition. Nevertheless, I couldn’t stop the smile that came to my face. If nothing else, it was an adventure. I may have been ever so slightly disappointed when we were ushered into a modern, high-end hotel lobby. We had a view of the pool and gardens from our room, but alas, we were to be picked up at 11am that morning.

Outside of our hotel (it looks much worse in the dark).

The pool at the Panacea, inside the courtyard.

The next morning the bus drivers were about an hour late to pick us up but I’d read about “Egyptian time” so I kind of expected everything to be bit late. I glanced out the bus window to see a cow wandering nonchalantly down the street. Once we got moving we passed a large expanse of desert occupied by rich-looking dwellings and ruins, often side-by-side. Traffic consisted of cars, trucks and donkeys. I saw a man shucking corn beside an outdoor oven while another sold roasted cobs to people stuck in traffic. The city itself was quite busy and if the is a rhyme or reason to the rules of traffic (both cars and horses), it is beyond me.

A view from the bus while heading into Alexandria.

When we reached the British School where Richard will be teaching, our host Manal gave us a tour of the area. The streets of Kafr Abdoul are dusty and busy and there is a nice supermarket and several clean and cool cafes and restaurants with good food and coffee. Oscar started pointing out every piece of litter he saw, but eventually gave up.

When we got to our apartment I have to admit I had a period of adjustment. The kitchen is extremely small and the door didn’t open all the way before it hit the stove. Our view is of another apartment so close that I could probably hop to opposite balcony if I had the inclination. I couldn't help thinking about our beautiful house in Whitehorse with the huge kitchen and back deck, mountain views and miles of trails out the backyard. Hot and tired, I indulged in about an hour of lying on the bed staring at the ceiling thinking “What have I done?!?!”

This morning, having finally had a good night’s sleep, everything looked brighter. I realized I would have to be quite the acrobat to actually "hop" to the facing balcony. Mina, from the British School, came to our rescue and had the door removed from the kitchen which is an improvement (although he was an hour late). In fact, the main area of the apartment is quite big and everything was very clean. There was even fresh milk, eggs and bread in the fridge, tea, coffee, biscuits, new pots and towels. Also a plus, no cockroaches or ants! At one point I did think we had birds due to an incessant chirping noise. It turns out the chirping is our doorbell and a man was at the door offering to take out our garbage.

This afternoon, just as I'd decided that "Egyptian time" meant about an hour late and was mentally chastising the rest of the group for being late to our outing, the few of us that were "on time" discovered that our iPhones had automatically set to the wrong time and we'd been an hour early for everything. Apparently Apple disagrees with the rest of Egypt about the current time of day. In hindsight, everyone so far has been remarkably on time.

We did some more exploring today. Wandering the streets is an experience in itself. Today I saw saw a group of men smoking shisha in a large open doorway, an old women selling produce on the street using an old fashioned scale and weight system and posh people sipping cappuccino in fancy cafe patios. I've found overall the people are very friendly but we haven't encountered any of the harassment I've been warned about. The food is very international in this area. Weve eaten at a European-style cafe, a Spanish tapas restaurant and the Indonesian restaurant just outside our apartment building.

Oscar enjoying a Boston Cream doughnut at Bruxie's, supplied with a knife and fork.

Tomorrow the mission is to find the beach and the outdoor market.