Morocco to Egypt       

My final days in Morocco were sad ones as I said goodbye to some very good friends. I do, however, take some joy in the fact that I know that many of those friendships will not end here if we don’t let them. After the goodbyes it was time to pack up my bag and get on the road. I didn’t know quite what to expect from this part of my journey as it is the first time I will be on my own. However, I knew that travelling from one side of North Africa to the other might present some challenges. My flight for Cairo was scheduled to leave from Casablanca at 12:30 so I woke up at 6 AM grabbed my bag and headed to the train station. I bought a ticket for the 7:45 train to Casa and waited… and waited… and waited. The train was first delayed to 8:45 and then 9:45. It turns out that anything written on a ticket or screen in Africa means absolutely nothing. Finally a train arrived heading to Ain Sebaa, a city near casa. I got up and explained to the attendant that I had a 12:30 plane to catch and my train had still not arrived. The attendant looked around and then told me to get on. He explained to me that I could switch trains at a city prior to casa that would get me to the Airport. Thanks to his help I was able to make it to the airport by 11:00. I quickly rushed to the check in counter and waited in line for about 10 minutes only to realize I was in the first class line and I was seated in economy class. Luckily the flight attendant at the counter thought my halting Arabic was cute and gave me my boarding pass anyway. At this point I was seriously worried I wasn’t going to make it to my flight since I hadn’t been through security yet. Good thing I’m in Africa : ). Security was one guard with a scanner, when my belt set it off he simply waved me through anyway. I made it to my gate with time to spare. However, about 5 minutes before departure I started to think it was kind of weird that I was the only person going to Cairo being that no one else was at my gate. I asked an airport worker who called it in and informed me that although my ticket said Gate 29 what that meant was Gate 15…. which was in another building.

                Well I guess I was in need of some exercise anyway. A quick sprint and some help from a buggy driver and I made it just in time to be the last person to board, and then promptly fell asleep…

                When we arrived in Cairo I knew that probably the most difficult part of my trip lay before me. I had a reservation at a small hostel somewhere near Talaat Harb Square but I wasn’t completely sure where and I had heard enough horror stories about Cairo taxi drivers. I ended up meeting a guy from Cairo on the plane and he agreed to seek out a driver when we arrived and settle on a price while I hung out in the back and then we would pull the old switcheraoo. This seemed like a good idea because he, being an Egyptian, could get a better price than me as a foreigner for the same trip. Of course once the driver found out he was a bit less than enthused. Nonetheless, he had agreed to the terms and so off we went. Upon leaving the Airport he told me to pay the parking ticket, I told him no because that wasn’t part of the deal. Two months ago I would have gladly paid the ticket and bought all his kids new sunglasses but two months in Africa will teach you how to stand your ground, if you’re not sucked dry first. At this point he was really in a great mood and went off on a tirade that I only half followed but I got the hint that he wasn’t singing my praises. What had at first been my “Great Arabic” in his terms had turned into “ these freaking tourists come here… speaking their broken Arabic thinking their cute…” I’m paraphrasing from Arabic of course but it is funny how whenever I think of Egyptians speaking English I think of New Yorkers. Anyhow, there we were speeding along the Cairo interstate at well over 100 MPH while I have no idea where we’re going. About 30 minutes later we end up on Talaat Harb Street and my driver turns to me and says “Ok, so where is your hotel.” I’m like “I don’t know, I’ve never been here in my life.” So we drive up and down the street while we both lean out the window asking people if they know where the place is. Inevitably the only answer I got was.. “Oh no I don’t know that one.. but get out and I’ll take you to the Sheraton or the Hilton.” Eventually we park and my driver walks into another hotel and finally we find out where the infamous Gresham House is…                  

                After I booked my room here, my friend Rachel suggested that we look at some reviews on trip advisor, a website I had obviously never heard of. They weren’t good, most having some reference to a horror movie (Hostel, Psycho , Etc.). Upon arrival I can see where they got their material. The place is pretty creepy… The rooms, however, while dusty and shared with a number of crawling creatures, are actually quite spacious with a balcony and a totally useless fireplace.    

But after all that I’m here, I have a room and am ready to start exploring tomorrow. I think the lessons I’ve pulled from today are never trust anything written on a ticket, always ask questions, and if a driver asks you to pay a $1 parking ticket, just pay it.

Woke up at around 10 this morning to the same honking, yelling and fireworks I fell asleep to last night. After exploring a little I bought some juice (4 bottles to be exact, ITS HOT) and now I’m back in the hotel. It has become apparent that I will be doing a lot more blogging on this part of my trip but I guess that is just part of travelling on your own.  Cairo so far has lived up to everything I have heard. Its big, congested and kind of ridiculous. It’s also completely different than Morocco. Whereas in Morocco everything was shut down and sleepy due to Ramadan, here things seem to be as lively as ever. That or this is just the sleepy version of Cairo and I just don’t know it. When I arrived last night the streets were packed with everyone out celebrating Ramadan, which is expected anywhere in the Arab world. There was something different, however. It seemed like a lot of people weren’t just high on the spirit of the season and I definitely smelled booze on a few people. People definitely don’t seem to notice me as much here, I guess they are just more used to foreigners. That being said, those touts that do try to “help” are more determined than anywhere else I’ve been. One thing that has been pleasant is that people are speaking to me in Arabic. Prior to coming everyone told me that in Cairo everyone speaks in English and will refuse to speak to foreigners in Arabic. But I haven’t encountered that yet. My taxi driver didn’t speak any English, the guy at the front desk in my hotel started out in broken English but seemed reliever when I replied in Arabic and has spoken to me in Arabic since that goes for the maid as well. It seems like the only people who really want to speak in English are young people, and that I think is because they either want to practice or show off.

Well I think I’m gonna take a nap and sleep away the rest of the hot afternoon and then go explore some more.