I reach Karima from Dongola on an entirely paved road but then spend half an hour tramping around trying to find a lokonda. My first option is, unbelievably, full but they direct me towards a second. It doesn't look great - the dorm is cramped, I only need to touch the mattress for dust to rise from it, the look and smell of the loos make me want to close my eyes AND nose when using them, and two backpacks indicate the presence of other foreigners - but I'm assuming it's the second best in town so I take it. I [View Full Entry]

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Having exhausted Kerma's attractions, I move on to Dongola. The transport - a minibus rather than a boksi - is shockingly convenient, leaving just ten minutes after I find it and containing only four passengers. The pattern certainly seems to be that the infrastructure is improving the further south I come. There's a tremendous amount of road-building underway here and it won't be long before the whole stretch from Wadi Halfa to Dongola will be paved - possibly within a year. Dongola lies on the west bank of the Nile and the final leg of the trip is on board a [View Full Entry]

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I convince myself that the fly infestation is Abri-specific, and head south again the next day, together with Tintin and Helen. Tintin buys me a Pepsi, a kind gesture and, as the almost-full bottle dangles from my fingers, I eventually have to explain to him that I only drink sparingly on a travel day as my bladder is fond of demanding to be emptied at the least convenient times. I pour the drink into my water container, thus creating a sugary hydrating mixture that tastes more of iced tea. This time the boksi leaves with only four passengers and soon hits [View Full Entry]

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While conducting my morning ablutions, I am surprised to see another clearly foreign face. This is a Canadian guy, Wally, recently arrived in Wadi Halfa and hoping to catch the ferry north. He has an iTouch on which he has copies of the WLP for all countries in East Africa. I mentally compare the size, weight, and info of my Africa-wide WLP with his iTouch and its contents, and am consumed with jealousy. The others head out for breakfast, which I miss due to a combination of not realising the time here is 1 hour ahead of Egypt, as well as [View Full Entry]

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The ferry from Aswan to Wadi Halfa in Sudan leaves from the terminal at the High Dam, and I see a sign saying "Wlecome" (sic) as we drive along the dam's wall. My final shafting from Egypt turns out to be the hotel suggesting that I should take a taxi here as coming by train would still leave me a long way from the terminal - needless to say, the station is right next to it. A guard tells me I need to wait one hour before I go through so I sit on the edge of a disused fountain, in [View Full Entry]

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It was obvious within minutes of arriving in Aswan that it was quite different to Luxor, with the hassle factor barely noticeable. It was possible to stroll through the souk without people blocking your way and trying to force you into their store. The river had more character, with a number of islands midstream and flotillas of feluccas. There wasn't the same price variation as I had experienced in Luxor. Though I was slightly perturbed to see "chicken and herpes" on my dinner menu, and there were the same quantities of policemen dotted around the place standing behind their moveable bull [View Full Entry]

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The Theban necropolis, to be found on the West Bank of what is now called Luxor, contains several of Egypt's most famous sights. It was here that the deceased of the New Kingdom, that period between the 16th and 11th centuries BC when the Ancient Egyptian civilisation was at its peak, were buried - from pharaohs down to craftsmen. Though you could probably see a good chunk of the area within a day by car, I opted to spread my sightseeing over bits of three days, by foot, bicycle, and taxi. My first afternoon there had the modest aim of walking [View Full Entry]

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For the last few days I have been hearing voices. Not one or two but tens, hundreds. They have not been urging me to commit some atrocity, or devote my life to serving a particular god, but - rather less interestingly - instead they have been offering me taxis. And feluccas. And caleches. And bicycles. And papyrus. And alabaster. And water. And sets of 3 wooden carvings for only 1 Egyptian pound. And umpteen other items/services that I have no urgent need for. Taking up even 1% of these offers would have resulted in me both becoming bankrupt and not seeing [View Full Entry]

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My experience of Africa is limited to two previous visits. The first was to Nigeria back in the early '70s. Photos in the family archives show a smiling, blond-haired boy clad in a grubby T-shirt and naked from the waist down. Unfortunately the blond hair darkened long ago. Fortunately I now tend to wear trousers in public. I remember nothing of Nigeria, the six months that we spent there predating my earliest memory of being alive. The second visit was to South Africa at the end of the '90s, a couple of weeks in Port Elizabeth where my sister was working [View Full Entry]

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For whatever reason, the urinals at Cairo's Rameses train station are highly unpopular at 7:15 in the morning so I was able to have my pick of the three available ones while queues five-deep waited outside each of the traps. This wasn't my only relief, as I was shortly to board a train taking me away from the capital into the supposedly more refined setting of Alexandria. The city is situated on the Mediterranean coast less than three hours northwest of Cairo and, in its time, had been home to two of the ancient world's most famous buildings. I had also [View Full Entry]

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