Ankle Exercises & The Desert

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We arrived this afternoon in Alexandria ('Alex' to Egyptians) after yet another coach journey - having returned only yesterday from the Sahara desert camp where we'd been since Monday. I spent the journey doing ankle exercises as yesterday my ankles had swollen grossly (five sedentary hours on a hot vehicle not known for doing your circulation any good). My precautions paid off and I don't look as though I have the legs of a baby elephant today. Alex feels very different to Cairo, not so big, not so hurried, a bit cooler thankfully. Tomorrow we go to the catacombs and the roman amphitheatre, just outside the city. I wouldn't have thought Alexandria was a city - it feels small, like a British seaside town almost (only infinitely less depressing).

Tomorrow evening we leave for Aqaba in Jordan - or at least I hope we do, as the man in our hostel assures us this bus route does not exist and there is no possible way of finding out apart from taking a taxi to the bus station - probably eight miles out of town - to find out. Oh well.

Back to our time in desert...... We got a small coach to an oasis town about five hours east of Cairo. It was recommended to us by the owner of our hostel there, an exceptionally helpful man named Assim who booked our coach tickets, posted our postcards, fed us dinner on our first night and is generally accomodating. Anyway this 'desert safari' is run by his cousin Badri - I doubted that are actually cousins at all but never mind - a man with the biggest hands I've ever seen. His fingers were like bunches of bananas - it's a wonder that he can use a keyboard or a telephone as I'm sure he'd press three keys at once. Anyway this jovial man drove us around the desert for a couple of days, I'll spare the details but do look forward do seeing lots of scenery pictures soon. Badri's charm wore off fairly soon as he revealed himself to be a feeder. Despite claiming to only eat one meal a day he insisted that Mary and I ate much more, despite our inclination in the heat to not eat as much. When requesting a small breakfast, I was presented with an oily omlette, lots of bread and honey, and about half a watermelon. When we left food on the plate, Badri feigned concern about how we would cope having only eaten rice/vegetables/chicken/bread/fruit/pasta/salad. His camp was nice enough, sweet little huts on the outskirts of the desert which heated up like little ovens in the mornings. The other staff were very servile, and scuttled around on Badri's orders. (Another thing about Egyptian men, they all claim to be working from dusk till dawn, but what do you see them doing? Nothing. Just sitting about smoking and chatting.)

So yes, I am looking forward to leaving Egypt. In Aqaba we are hoping to relax for a day, maybe go for a swim, sleep in late, not do much. Then on to Petra, and Monday visiting a horse hospital (my mother's recommendation). Maybe this time next week we'll be in Damascus, maybe we won't. The joy of disorganisation means we can decide as and when we get somewhere how long we want to stay. I can hardly believe it's only been a week. One of eight stretching ahead. By the time we get to Istanbul all this will seem a distant memory, in the same way that what I was doing eight weeks ago seems like last year. At the same time I'm sure it will go quickly and before I know it we'll be back at Heathrow, dirty, tired, scruffy, all this behind us.

xxx

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Comments

[Al]

Aquba
I hope you were receiting Aladdin...