The Egypt Chronicles - Day 1

The plane started circling Cairo in its attempt to land, and I craned my neck to catch the first few glimpses... there was sand everywhere, as far as the eyes could see. Thin black lines cut across the vast expanse and occasionally there was greenery and habitation around. The landscape was dry and a wee bit rugged, if I may presume too.

The landing itself, was uneventful. Routine checks on landing cards and I was sent off on my way.

Presently, an airport official accosts me and asks something in Arabic. I shake my head and offer a shrug. Another fellow, suited up, walks over and suggests I have come in from London, and speaks in English. The first one checks my visa and waves me off.

The suited guy walks with me and explains that I looked Egyptian. I nod. He starts selling me a package tour. I wince. I explain to him that I'm a student from India and was backpacking, and didn't have a hotel to stay. He kept on selling his package tour. Finally, I took his card and some pamphlets and said I would be in touch. He didn't quite buy it, but let me go nevertheless.

I looked at the signboards offering taxi services which read 80-100 EGP from the airport to downtown Cairo, from where I had to take the train to Alexandria. So I called a cab to take me to Ramses Square, where the train station was. I later learnt the rates were 'fixed' and it doesn't even cost you half as much. (True enough, on my way back, I took a metered taxi from downtown to the airport and the fare was about 30 EGP).

The cab driver led me to his Verna (Hyundai is huge in Egypt and Verna seems to be their flagship model here), and we were off. At first glance, Cairo did not seem any different from Pune. It was the usual horn-blaring, swerving traffic, except this is left-hand-drive. The buildings were similar, the flyovers reminiscent of Karvenagar area.

I have my camera out by this time, and I see the driver fervently waving his hand to grab my attention. He gestures to me to look on his side of the road and snaps his fingers like a flash going off. Sign language for "Take a photo". Okay. He showed me what I now know as 'Al-Azhar' mosque. We were passing through Islamic Cairo.

Shortly after, he dropped me off at the train station, near the parking lot. The entrance to the parking lot was shabby, there was dirt near the compound, the flyover behind had a great deal of muck accumulated, and stray cats meandering on their way, trying to grab a morsel in the dirt. Not very different from Pune station, I thought, only a few degrees more polluted, maybe.

I walked on into the station quadrangle, and things improved. The pavements were cleaner and there was evidence of a lawn which was cared for until recent times. The building was grand, but could do with some cleaning. There was construction work going on at a corner. I walked into the station from the side entrance, towards the platforms. A lone train stood on one of the four platforms behind the main facade. Again, it could do with some cleaning. It must have been a special train or such, for all the coaches were filled with cadets in military green. I walked further in towards the main entrance. There was a small pyramid on the ground, with a huge inverted pyramid extending from the ceiling and almost touching the tip of the pyramid below. It reminded me of 'Angels and Demons'. There was a signboard with some information on it, but it was in Arabic. I waited a while, but the LEDs showed no signs of turning to English, so I approached a group of cadets and asked whether they spoke English. They did. I showed them my ticket and asked them the platform. They told me. All three of them shook my hand and welcomed me to Egypt. Upon my ask, they said 'Yes' in Arabic was 'aiwa'; and 'No' was 'lah'.

I had about two hours for my train. So I walked out of the station and into the city. The first thing I noticed was all male adults were smoking. They were smoking outside, they were smoking inside, and some were smoking in front of a 'No Smoking' sign. I saw some hand carts selling the local snacks; koshary, I think it was, but I wasn't hungry so did not ask. I saw a huge building with Egypt Post on top, must have been the administrative office of the postal department. Good.

Across, there was a line of shops on one side of the road, and mini-buses waiting on the other, and men of my age calling out 'Iskandriyah, Iskandriyah'. I walked on and saw a fruit juice shop. Ordered an orange juice for 2.50 EGP, bought a bottle of water and some chewing gum. There were hawkers further on selling bags, scarves, cigarettes. Some shops serving tea and snacks. A cobbler and boot-polish. It was quite similar to an Indian setting. If you would take a bus into Mysore and walk out of the bus-stand, you would see a similar setup - shops selling fruit juice and newspapers, lottery shops, old women hawking flowers and betel leaves and maxi-cabs shouting out 'Mandya - Bangalore'.

I walked all around the block and reached the other end of the station and this time, from the main entrance, I saw a helpdesk. I went and reconfirmed my ticket and platform and waited in the station. Met a Swede, who had been in the country for about a week. He told me Tahrir Square had been mostly calm, but on one day, he had just walked out of his hotel and he saw a crowd approaching from Tahrir, and he had to rush back in for safety. That lone incident apart, he said there was no action whatsoever. In fact, if you were out of the Tahrir area, you would not even notice.

He said he landed in Hurghada, and the hotel staff there said this was a popular time for tourists, and they are usually overbooked, but this year, they were at 30% occupancy. His cab driver had a story to tell, too. Apparently he plied to Giza Pyramids on a daily basis, but now he would be lucky to get a fare once a week. I later learnt some of these taxi driver stories are just sob-stories in an attempt to fleece some 'baksheesh'.

Baksheesh is local for tips. The whole of Egypt has a sickening baksheesh culture. Almost everything will need to be topped up with baksheesh, so better to haggle accordingly. Waiters, cleaners, drivers, guides, even locals of whom you take photos approach you in an attempt to get some baksheesh! It's quite ok to wave them off saying 'lah'.

Back to the train. The train was on time, and surprisingly the coach numbers were in Roman numerals, so I lost no time in finding my seat and settling in. The coach was dirty from the outside, but cleaner inside. The seats were quite roomy and the cushions thick. The windows were no cleaner than an Indian train. The coaches were marked non-smoking, and had doors on either side, outside of which one was free to light up. There was a rickety wooden pantry trolley which made its round every hour or lesser, selling bread and tea. I sampled the tea, but it was too tea-y for my taste. The train took about two and a half hours to get to Alexandria.

Now, Alexandria railway station is not exactly the Raml station which I was looking for, so after searching high and low for a certain Hotel Cecil, I walked up to a chai-shop and asked for Hotel Cecil. The good man tried to explain in broken English, and said it was near the sea-side. I contemplated calling our hostel, but realised I would (i) need a phone booth; (ii) someone to explain. So, instead I walked to a taxi and said 'Fondo Cecil'.

"Fondo Cecil? Sea side. 10 Pound Egyptian".

"Aiwa, aiwa".

In about ten minutes I was in front of Cecil, walked around the back of it into the shabby entrance of our hostel, and took the lift up to the 4th floor. I was greeted by a chubby young man with a bright smile, who showed my room, and also said some of my group were already in the other room.

RA and SK took me to a great place called Ahmed's (Achmed's?) for some local Egyptian food. They explained that falafel was similar to medu-vada, and that there was rajma, which was called 'foul'. There was also hummus and pickle (although the pickle was just diced radish, chilli and some salad leaves). I was famished and devoured all the three falafels we ordered.

Back in the room, ice was broken and there was fine conversation with SK on marriage, travel, advertising, IT, management, movies, music, student life ... until the people next door requested some peace.

I plonked out at about 2:30 AM, to get up to a sea-view the next morning.