Keeping our fingers crossed for you guys!

Take care.

Change of plan again. Or not change of plan. I don't know. After all the encouraging promises the Libya visa proves more difficult than expected. It's very frustrating.
So yes, by now we should be at the Libyan border. But again I am sitting on the same balcony of the same cheap hotel in Cairo, writing this report, same as last time.
It all started last week Sunday when we were in Nuweiba, Sinai, discussing the future direction of the trip. The Jordanian border was within reach. So was the Israeli one. But both, Martin and me, preferred the Libya way. So we rang the embassy in Cairo. Again and again. It's hard to get through. The line is either constantly busy or not answered at all. "Welcome to the Libyan embassy in Cairo. If you know the extension number, please dial it now. Otherwise wait for the operator". More often then not the 'operator' seems to be in a world different from the one of her phone. Or, if there is an oparator she will connect us with no where. Usually the phone is ringing after the taped message. And ringing. And ringing. And ringing. But sometimes we did get through. A lady called Hanaa, who spoke very good English, promised to research if they could issue a transit visa for us. She said we might need a letter from our own embassy. And that we should call back in an hour. So we did. But no one answered. In fact no one answered for the rest of the Sunday.

So we enjoyed the day at the beautiful beach in Nuweiba. Trying to call again and again. With no one picking up the phone in Cairo.

Monday morning we tried to call once more. And Hanaa picked up. And said yes, if we come to Cairo, if we bring the letter from our embassy, we sure would get our visa. The problem we saw was to get the letter. Our government currently has a travel warning for Libya and usually in these cases they don't support you travelling there. Hanaa's comment to our concern was that even that should not be a major problem. Nothing we couldn't solve once we are sitting together. However, Martin remained suspicious. It's 500km between the beautiful sunny beach in Nuweiba and the Libyan embassy in dusty Cairo after all. So only I went. Straight after the phone conversation on Monday morning. 500km straight to Cairo on my brave little Suzuki flying through the Egyptian desert landscape. With a big smile on my face for I love riding my little motorbike.

Tuesday morning I went straight to the German embassy in Cairo to ask for the letter. And to my surprise they said 'yes'. So I arranged one for Martin and one for me, to be ready for pick up on Wednesday morning. Even the efficient Germans need one day for a short letter. And 25 Euro each. However, to stake things out I went to the Libyan embassy straight after. To finally meet my phone friend Hanaa. And ask for the visa procedures.
As it turned out Hanaa is the Libyan consul herself. I was more than impressed to find myself sitting on an expensive leather sofa in a huge airconditioned office. With her excellency the consul and an ensemble of Egyptian and Libyan flags next to her heavy wooden desk. She was extremely friendly, extremely encouraging. She took a long time to explain the visa to me, all it's conditions. No problem. As you would expect from a consul she had fantastic conversational skills. We just needed the letter from our embassy and within one day we would get the visa. No problem. For sure. Happily I told Martin the good news over the mobile phone. And he too embarked onto his 500km journey across Egypt to Cairo. He too endured the headwind, the sand storms, the checkpoints. And the endless straight road through the desert of Sinai. To arrive tired and beaten at our cheap hotel in Cairo.

Wednesday we both got up early to make our way to the German embassy to pick up our letters. They appeard quite simple for the heavy 25 Euro fee. No official letterhead. Cheap font set. But who cares, they were official letters. And had a stamp on it. In good spirit we took them straight to Ms Hanaa.

The Libyan embassy is quite a mess to get into. There is a constant crowd of people in front, trying everything to get in. There is shouting in Arabic language, there is pushing, there is waiving forms and passports. Even fighting. But we made it through. And we made it in.

This time not into Ms Hanaa's nice office. She came to us in the waiting room. Couldn't believe we had the letter. There was nothing wrong with them. Exactly what she wanted to see, no complaints. But still, no visa for us. Apparently the person issueing the visas was not in that day. We should come back the next morning, on Thursday. Ms Hanaa promised us we could get the visa on the same day. And even lured us with a ten day validity instead of the typical seven days for a transit visa. So on Thursday we would get out of Cairo. Towards Libya. Just in time before out Egyptian visa expires on Saturday. We left the embassy so confident that we even bought an expensive Lonely Planet travel guide for Tunesia, our destination on the other side of Libya.
Back at the hotel Martin grew suspicious. I don't like it when he does. Because more often then not he is right. Why did we never fill in an application form? Or were asked for a passport photo? Or any document at all? Why does the consul herself need another person to issue a visa? Why did she not tell me the day before that the actual visa person would not be in on Wednesday? Why did she give us the letter from the Germans back without making a photo copy?
However, we packed everything that afternoon. All ready to go to make the most of the short time we would get on our Libya visa. And went back to the Libyan embassy on Thursday morning. Today morning. And fought our way through the shouting crowd again.

Ten minutes later a guy in suit and tie came to see us. To notify us that today no visa could be issued because 'the system is down'. He gave us his mobile number to call him on Monday. Which would be two days after our Egypt visa expired. He knew. But that's not his problem. And Ms Hanaa was currently too busy to see us. Good bye. The way he treated us felt like we wasted his time and our time and we all know anyway that nothing will happen on Monday either. So we left. And had a coffee outside in a small coffee shop. Shocked and frustrated Martin and me, we didn't talk much. And ordered another coffee instead. Calling Ms Hanaa on the phone she was first 'busy' and then 'out of office'.

Our situation the following: it was Thursday mid day in Cairo. We would get new information about a Libya visa on Monday, five days from now. Maybe. Not sure. Rather unlikely actually. Our visa for Egypt and the papers for our bikes would expire on Saturday, only three days from now. Egypt is not a good place to overstay the validity of your papers. To renew things in Egypt it would take at least one full day. Between immigration, customs, traffic police and insurance company. And the many km in Cairo traffic between their offices. Friday all offices are closed in Islamic Egypt. So there was only the rest of Thursday. A few hours left. And, if open, Saturday. No one knows about Saturday. There is a ferry from Nuweiba to Jordan on Friday morning. But not on Saturday. It's 500km East of Cairo. And there is a land border crossing to Israel which, ones used, will make our passport useless for most Islamic countries in the world. Including Syria. Even though Israel might kindly stamp a separate sheet instead of our passport, most countries can by now identify the Egyptian exit stamp as the one on the Israelian border. The border too would be 500km from our small comfy coffee shop in Cairo.

Martin and me, we address our frustration differently. I am more the type to sit down, calm down, think. Martin more the type of immediate action towards alternative ways. So while Martin set off to catch tomorrow's early morning ferry to Jordan I chose to remain in Cairo for a few more days to arrange the extension of my Egyptian paperwork. We will catch up in a few weeks time in Jordan to attempt the Syria crossing together. Or in Egypt if the Libya visa issue is solved. Everything is open again.

For some strange reason I am no longer in the mood for sightseeing. I am sure Jordan is a fantastic country for it, there is Wadi Rum, there is the ancient rock city of Petra. But, you know, travelling for many months can make you tired. Also my mood is set on Africa. I love Africa. I don't feel ready to leave yet. Not in the hurry of a split second decision. Instead of sightseeing in Jordan I need to spend more time with people in Africa. And the people we met in Egypt so far, they're awesome. And it's the contact with people which gives me the energy, makes me enjoy this journey so much. What's awesome too is the fact that Martin and me, we are independent enough to indulge in our own preferences for a while and meet again to continue together. We did it a few times before. And found together again. And it worked perfectly between us.

Pretty much every day since our visit to the Blue Hole in Dahab we are in phone contact with the Bedouin people we met there. They keep inviting us back, to spend more time together. Learn about each other. Exchange our languages. 'Please come back!' For me, this is so tempting. I love people. I love to spend time with people. And to learn from them. And to share their life for a while. And Bedouin people are heaps interesting people. Last Monday I felt really sad for leaving Sinai in such a hurry for Cairo. Once out of Egypt we would most likely never meet again, how would there ever be the chance to? And therefore not having time for another catch up with them felt like a deeply unpleasant necessity while I was riding through the desert to Cairo. But now, now the opportunity is there. So here's the plan. Once all the paperwork in Cairo is completed I will have everything in order to remain in Egypt for another three months. Heaps of time to say yes to the repeated invite. Yes to coming back to the Blue Hole in Sinai and spend some time with our Bedouin friends. While trying to solve the Libya problem. It's near the Jordanian border so Martin is never more than a day's journey away. Easy.

So for now, I'm just sitting on my balcony in Cairo. The city is buzzing underneath me. There is music, cars honking, there is voices of people. It's Thursday night. So the mood is heating up for the big protests on Tahrir Sq on a typical Friday. Tahrir Sq is right next to the hotel. Tomorrow will be interesting.

__________________
no risk - no fun

Still in Cairo, times are getting happier. My last trip report from two days ago was written during a time of utter frustration. But it's not that bad. Being of an optimistic nature I am sure we will get the Libya visa sooner or later. In the meantime I was succesful in some other important matter. I bought myself time. And renewed my visa for Egypt. And the papers for my little Suzuki. To my surprise it was quite easy to do so. Expecting another buerocratic nightmare of the likes we went through in Aswan. Extending the visa required only three visits to the immigration department, each lasting no more than five minutes. The first one to fill in the form and pay the fee (whooping $2.00). The second one, one morning later to give them the passport. The third one two hours later to pick up the passport with a three month visa stamped in.
It was also handy to have the immigration department sitting in the building right next to my hotel. Visa extension - no worries.
Even the paperwork for my little Suzuki could be finished within one hour. Costing another $10.00 for a two months extension. Not bad, hey? Only problem was that the Customs office is at the airport, 20km from the CBD. To get there traffic slows you down to make it a one and a half hour one way trip during which you age another five years. Cairo traffic is special, it perfectly resembles a river. Traffic flows all the time, slowly but constantly. Distances between vehicles are only a few cm. Same as a river, traffic fills all spaces. Lanemarkings don't matter. If a tiny space opens somewhere it will be filled by a vehicle immediately. If a road is full traffic spills over onto oncoming lanes. Or footpaths. Same as an overflowing river. After a while, if you 'get in the flow' it's actually fun. Particularly on a motorbike without luggage. It's the margins that give you grey hair though. Cars, trucks, buses, they move past you with a few cm to spare to your handlebars. But never touch. Really skillful drivers these Cairo people.
Extending the papers for the bike is hardly possible without a fixer. So I used one. That's probably why everything got finished within an hour. But all forms and documents are available in Arabic only. No translation. They are obviously meant for foreigners. With foreign registered vehicles. But still, only in Arabic. It was quite interesting to see my fixer working for me though. The first ten to twenty minutes it was just about collecting forms from several offices within a 250m radius and filling them in. The number of sheets in his hand constantly rising.
The remaining 40 minutes were spent delivering these forms again to different offices. In the same 250m radius around my little Suzuki. The sheets in my fixers hand getting fewer and fewer. At some stage, when there were only a very few left, he gave them to me and announced that we are finished. Too easy! Apart from receipts the only paperwork of significance was a handwritten comment in Arabic on the back of my Carnet sheet stating that my bike can remain in Egypt till 14th June. Handwritten and stamped. Too easy indeed!

Christian life in Cairo follows the coptic calender. Which strangely celebrates Easter this weekend. One week after the rest of the world celebrates it. So yesterday, the Coptic good Friday, everything was closed. And I had to wait till today with my papers.
However, Islamic Cairo sees Fridays as holidays too. So people don't work. And traditionally, during the Egyptian revolution last year Friday was the day of mega protests. The revolution is now over. The military still governs the country. And elections are scheduled in six weeks. Leading to these elections the protests on Tahrir Square are getting bigger and bigger again on Fridays. And yesterday was a big one. Estimated half a million people, right next to my hotel, shouting slogans like a huge choir. Their slogans echoing back from the concrete of the high rise buildings around the square. Being mixed with the beat of drums, the honking car horns and protesters holding speaches through their loudspeakers. And sometimes also mixed with the calls for prayer from the surrounding mosques. Starting mid day and going late into the night. Truly massive.

The courtyard of our hotel was used by many as a quite zone. So it was filled with people relaxing, their posters rolled up against the walls. Of course the courtyard is also the place where my little Suzuki is parked. She provided a welcome bench for people to sit on. Or to put their stuff on. Or to lean their stuff against. Too late to get her out with all roads now closed. Egyptian people are a friendly lot though. I checked for the bike a few times and people jumped straight off her. I told them they are welcome to sit on it, just to take care. And they did. Unharmed but dirty and surrounded by a pile of rubbish I freed her today to ride to the airport for her paperwork. All good.

Sticking around in Cairo makes you meet people which in turn makes your stay quite pleasant. Often random people on the street, mostly young ones, are heaps keen to take a photo with you on their mobile phone. Often they also ask you to take a photo of them with your camera. The're posing in some heroic way, say thank you and keep walking. Others randomly invite you for things. Mostly older ones invite you for tea. If you only make some time to talk to them. Talking with foreigners seems to be highly regarded. The conversation often goes around the Revolution, the good and bad things that came out of it and the uncertainty of the soon to be election. Which is cool with me. I have seen what I wanted to see in Cairo. And am now happy to make time to talk. And so I learn about the whole Revolution issue as well which is quite interesting. And tea is just awesome.
Tonight however will be my last night in Cairo for a while. My business here is finished. To find out if the 'system' is running again in the Libyan embassy a mobile phone call will suffice. And till that happens there is now time and opportunity to explore Egypt beyond the usual places in more depth. So my little Suzuki and me, we shall enjoy the freedom of the open road once more and be released from the noise and the dust of the city. Stay tuned!

__________________
no risk - no fun

Some more impressions of Cairo. Having nothing better to do I grabbed my camera and started walking around town for an hour, saying yes to everyone who asked for a photo to be taken.


These kids just leaving the mosque after their Friday prayer.


These two guys travelling on a truck full of chairs. They made their driver stop the truck so I could take a photo of them.


Making new friends in the hotel lobby


This lady is working in the kitchen of our hotel. Asking her for a coffee would make her smile and swing into action straight away. She made some awesome coffee for us.


Cairo features some huge mosques. There is actually two mosques in this picture, in between them is a narrow path. If you walk along it you feel squeezed in by the huge vertical stone walls on either side. A particularly impressive experience at prayer time with praying sounding loudly from the speakers outside the mosques. Praying here sounds like singing, and it's loud. So loud, the sound overwhelms everything else, even the honking traffic around the mosques.

__________________
no risk - no fun

Friday protests on Tahrir Sq, just outside my cheap hotel.


Looking down onto the gathered crowd


The morning after. My little Suzuki in the hotel yard, exhausted for playing her part in the revolution, providing a relaxing chair to some of the protesters during Friday afternoon.

__________________
no risk - no fun

Awesome report and pictures mate! Truly great stories, and very nice to see you are right in the middle of the Tahrir square protests, living history!

Always great following your stories, a welcome respite from routine life, and a travel in itself. As the other person mentioned, your writing is only improving! You should think about a career as a writer, who knows (could escape the 9-5 routine as well)

Keep traveling safe!

Sam

Glad things are looking up for you in Cairo. When I read your change of plans/not a change of plans post you sounded a bit down, but I figured you'd find the bright side.

You didn't seem utterly frustrated in the post. You certainly have a great attitude, which I guess is a necessity on the trip you're taking.

Perhaps later you can post about how the trip has changed you. I can't imagine that it hasn't.

If anyone ever complains about Egyptian people again, I will start a fight. Egyptian people are awesome. This time I really needed them. And they were there. Finally, after all those months I had my first motorcycle accident. But let's start the story at the beginning.

Currently I am in Egypt staking out options of how to get to Europe by bike from here. Mainly concerning the Libyan diplomatic missions or boats from Alexandria. While Martin is on his way to explore the situation at the Syrian border. The plan was that, if nothing works from Egypt I would spend some time with our Bedouin friends and then follow Martin to cross into Syria together. Living with Bedouin people sounded extremely attractive.
So I went and spent a couple of days in Alexandria. To my surprise it doesn't seem that hard to find a ship from there. There are ships to Turkey, to Greece and to Italy. No regular services though but they would still take motorbikes and passengers with them. I could have booked one leaving for Turkey on the day of my arrival in Alexandria. But that was too early for me, I wanted to stay in Egypt a bit longer and visit my Bedouin friends on Sinai. They kept inviting me daily on the phone.

So off I went on my little Suzuki from Alexandria to Ismailia. The road leads nicely through the Nile delta area, it is very densely populated and there is a lot of traffic on pretty bad quality roads. Just after the small town of MitGhamr, I was travelling next to a truck on a multilane road, all of a sudden this green car appeared in front of me. Inching across the road in front of the truck and into my lane. By then it was too late for me to do anything but hitting the break. I perfectly T-boned the green car into it's driver door at around 40km/h.
Things I remember from the immediate moments afterwards was the loud bang, the world spinning around me while sliding along the asphalt and the grinding noise of my bike sliding along following me closely. Unfortunately back in Gondar, Ethiopia, my protective motorbike pants were stolen from my tent. So all my sliding now happened in my thin polyester tracking pants. No good.
Coming to a stop after what seemed like an eternity I was still aware enough to get myself off the road. Sitting there on the kerb, watching my poor little bike on the asphalt, fuel spilling out of the damaged tank. Stuff from my panniers littering fhe road. I was immediately surrounded by a group of shocked people. I remember seeing a lot of blood around my left knee.

As they carried me across the road to their house some others collected my stuff and pushed my bike across as well, fuel still spilling out. At their house I remember how I grabbed my first aid pack out of my panniers and found myself lying flat on a sofa soon. The first aid pack full of sterile bandages and plasters was probably the best medical help I would find for a while.

I could see a big flap of ripped off skin hanging from my left knee, muscles and tendons clearly visible. How could we fix this here somewhere smalltown Egypt? I found a big cut too on my back. And a lot of scratches on my left ellbow. But there was no pain. Just shock. I was surprisingly aware of what was going on around me. The family who took me to their house bandaged the worst wounds up nicely for me. I felt bad for staining their sofa with blood. They seemed to be just as shocked as myself but really made an effort to care for me. They brought me fresh apples cut in peaces. And water with a lot of sugar disolved in it. I still remember the sweet taste.
They spoke no English. But somehow communicated the word 'doctor' to me again and again. Does it mean I jned one? Or they take me to one? Or one would come here? And indeed 15 minutes later an ambulance arrived. People gestured me the question if I would need anything out of the pile of my stuff. What would you take? Within a secojd or two I grabbed my mobile phone charger and a bag with my clothes and the folder with all my paperwork. Already on the stretcher towards the ambulance I was also smart enough to ask someone to pass me the GPS from my bike. I would have to leave everything behind, at least I wanted to be able to find my way back here. The family made it clear to me they take good care of my stuff. Dont worry. In a last glimpse I saw how someone sticky taped the damage in my little Suzuki's fuel tank. And the door of the ambulance closed. The paramedic talking to me in Arabic. Man, you feel so alone in such a moment.
Just 5 minutes later the doors opened again and I was rushed into the hospital emergency. Wounds were cleaned and stitched. X-rays and ultrasound images taken. While an English speaking police officer asked me questions. Right then I was aware of thevfact that my bike and everything was with strangers, I did not know their name, I did not know their location, nothing. And how good an idea it was to take the GPS of all things with me. Half an hour later I was pushed to my bed in a wheelchair. A two bed room. Next to me a young guy with his family visiting. No one speaking English.
What a situation to be in I just thought to myself. Not knowing where I was, for how long I had to be here, what was wrong with me, what would happen to my stuff. A young nurse came along and with a smile connected me to a glucose water infusion. Because there is no food service in Egyptian hospitals. Only BYO. Have you got someone to bring you food? No. Thank you. Alone would be a perfect description of how I felt right there. So alone. And that is where it all turned around to the better.

At around 8pm that evening the two Poice officers who interviewed me in the Emergency department came to visit me. Just like that. To see how I go. And to my everlasting gratefulness they brought along a big bag full of fresh bread rolls. And cheese. More than I could eat. And a cold 7UP lemonade. They sat with me for a bit while I was hungrily digging into the food. How awesome. Good to have someone to talk to.
I was still eating when they left. Calling my Bedouin friend in Ismailia he was shocked to hear that I wouldn't make it to him tonight. Ismailia was more than 100km away from here, he couldn't help me much.
However, just a few minutes later, around 10pm, the door opened again and a three more visitors came. It was the family who took care of me on the accident scene. These strangers come to visit ME? They quickly rearranged the room, pushed my food aside and replaced it with more food from their many bags. 'This is what we call dinner' translated their son while pushing away the 'dinner' from the police guys. The other two smiling and talking Arabic. I learned that my rescue angel's name was Said. He was a big dark skinned man, somewhat in his fifties.
Bedside tables became dining tables, newspapers became table clothes. And the dishes never stopped to come out of their bags. Meatballs, steak, fries, fresh bread, cheese, salads, chips, youghurt drinks, orange juice, lemonade, spring water and much much more. They stayed till around midnight. Reassuring me I was alright, my bike was in good care and they already started repairing it for me. 'What?' They also left their names,phone number and a description of their home location written in Arabic. I could show this to a taxi driver. Or just call them and they pick me up from hospital and let me stay at their place till I feel better. My stuff was in good care as well. Apparently police turned up to collect it but they did not give it to them. I was now their 'son'. And I could leave my stuff with them for as long as I needed. In these two hours I had the happiest moments in my life. Complete strangers appearing as angels.
I asked the nurse to take out my infusion. I obviously did eat and drink. Way more and way better than I would have dreamed of that day.
I wasn't actually in such a bad state. And I could now feel it. I walked to the bathroom myself. What an achievement!
My knee was stitched up with eight stitches, my back with a further three. My ellbow was bandaged but nothing serious. My left wrist had some overstretched tendons and hurt a bit. All X-rays were clear. And so the doctors gave me the 'all clear to go' for the next day.
Next day morning I did not have to much time to myself either. Fellow patients invited me for tea. The hospital's general manager came to say hello and inquire about how happy I was with the service of his team. And Ameen, my Bedouin friend, came all the way from Ismailia to visit me and pick me up. I was really happy to see him there because I now knew everything was getting sorted. Believe me, if you are in a s...t situation and there are people who put so much effort into making you happy - well it makes you happy. Really happy. Many times I just did not know what to say and had to fight tears. I also let Martin know who straight away wanted to come back from Jordan to see me. But there was no need to, everything was going to be alright.

The MitGhamr hospital not only did a great job stitching my limbs together. They also did it completely for free. No money charged. Egyptian hospitality.
Ameen and me, we soon left the hospital. Me limping behind him. First to Police to make a statement. Then to the other Police to make a statement. Then to the judges commision to make a statement. Always accompanied by lots of sweet tea. Finally we were free at around 3pm.
First of all I was keen to go and see Said at the accident location. All my stuff and my poor little Suzuki was still there. I was keen to see her, wanted to know in what state she was. If she could be repaired. I did not remember to much about her from the day before.

It was a strange feeling to be back at the accident scene. But Said received Ameen and me like family. We were soon sitting on the sofa, still blood stained with my blood from the previous day. And having tea together. However, I felt restless and wanted to see my bike. Said and his family already had dismantled the tank in order to repair it. It would have been finished if they had had the tank key. Said showed me how they already bent the handlebars straight again. Also the gear shift lever was slightly bent in. Apart from that my little Suzuki was in great shape! Even without tank we could start her little engine at first go! What a great bike!
The luggage panniers too were okay. One strap got ripped off. Appart from that no damage, nothing ripped, nothing torn. Not bad for a pair of cotton panniers who slid along asphalt with the whole weight of the bike on them, right? Some of the stuff inside was not so lucky though. Some plastic stuff like my electric power plug converters or some spraycans like my mozzie repellent broke to pieces or spilled all over the place. But the important thing here was: there was nothing that could not be fixed! Marco okay? Tick. Bike okay? Tick. Equipment okay? Tick. All good.
Ameen's home was still some 120km away. So it was soon time to leave. It should be a long and hard journey for my stiff limbs squeezing into cars, tuk tuks and pick ups.
Said happily offered me to leave my bike and all my stuff with him for as long as I wanted. He would take care of the bike and whenever I was ready I should come back and continue the journey from his house. And I had no reason to not trust him.
Just before sunset we arrived at Ameen's home near Ismailia. It's actually not in Ismailia but almost 20km from it in the countryside. It is Bedouin territory so most people live in tents. There are lots of camels, donkeys and sheep. And irrigation makes growing tomatoes, chillies or melons possible. Pretty much an area of sandy desert with many square patches artificially turned green by irrigation. Ameen's family had a brick house and was no longer living in a tent. There were mother, father, three brothers, six sisters and many of their wifes, husbands, sons and daughters. Also three dogs, lots of chicken, and some goats. Goats so tame they come into the house and eat the food crumbs from the floor.
Even though it is not a tent the house very much resembles one. Everything happens on the floor. There is no furniture. Just cushions and foam matresses on the floor. During the day people sit on them. During the night people sleep on them. All in one room. There is no electricity or tap water. Just a water pump outside. Cooking happens with a big iron box on short legs which is carried around inside and outside the house. Timber is burned in it to cook tea. Tea is omnipresent, is drunk at any time, day or night. And Ameen's family is the most welcoming family I could have wished for. An undiscribable friendliness that makes you feel all warm inside. Everything is shared, no single person ownes something by himself. Which at first I was not used to. Water is drunk out of some glass that goes around. Food is served on one big tray of plates and everyone sits around it. And just naturally my stuff is used as if it is 'ours' too. No questions asked. But I don't mind.
So here I am right now. Being welcomed to live a Bedouin life in a rather traditional Bedouin family. It will probably take around two weeks until my knee and wrist is bendable again to a degree that I could ride my bike. I will spend these two weeks here. I can stiffly but without pain move around freely and am so in the best position to make the most out of this strange situation. And I must say I actually enjoy it. Heaps. My little Suzuki and most of my luggage is some 120km away at Said's house. He is calling me every day. It's all in good hands.

Could be worse. No worries.

__________________
no risk - no fun

Amazing how helpful those people were/are to you. It is good to hear that there are so many good people. Your stories are a good compensation for all the bad stories you read in the papers about Egypt and other countries in that region.

I wish you a full and fast recovery and I'm looking forward to your next trip report.

__________________
Jan Krijtenburg

My bikes are a Honda GoldWing GL1200 and a Harley-Davidson FXD Dyna Super Glide

My personal homepage with trip reports: https://www.krijtenburg.nl/
YouTube channel (that I do together with one of my sons): motormobilist.nl

Man, what an amazing account of Egyptian hospitality! I seriously almost shed some tears. I hope all is well despite your accident. Take it easy. That's the most important for now. Keep us updated as to your situation and health condition.

Best of luck!

Hey Marko,
Mate, sorry to hear about your accident. It's great that you and your bike are ok. I arrived in Aswan yesterday and am waiting to get my bike through customs. Hopefully by Saturday I will be able to head north to Cairo and then Jordan.
Is there anything that I can help you with? I will be near where you are in a litte while.

Regards Ben.

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Thanks mate, it's all good. I really just need to rest my old limbs somewhat, everything else is taken care of.
I hope you get your customs done quickly. It's pretty chaotic doing it in Aswan.

Will you get anywhere near Ismailia on your way to Jordan?

__________________
no risk - no fun

In MitGhamr hospital the morning after. Ameen visiting me to pick me up. Hospital security almost sent him back, why would someone visit the 'tourist'?


At Ameen's family home. Life largely takes place sitting on the floor. And of course, tea is important. Sweet tea comes with every meal. At least once in between meals. Whenever a guest arrives to the house (and there are many). And whenever there is nothing else to do. In average there are four spoons of sugar for a small glass (half size of a Scotch glass)


My Asylum provider for the time being. Ameen.


The family home is in an area where lots of veggies are grown by irrigation. Here a chilli plantation.

__________________
no risk - no fun

Marco,
I'll have a look around Cairo first and then head your way. I want to get to Ashdod/Haifa in Israel for the ferries. PM the GPS coords for where you are and I'll drop by.

Cheers Ben.

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No worries at all, mate. Except I was worried when you hadn't posted for about a week. I've never had such a reaction reading a post as when I read about your accident. I am very glad that you're ok. I hope you heal quickly and completely. I also hope your scars never go away, so that when your grandkids ask about them, they can hear all about their adventurer granddad.

And again, such terrific writing. I was truly moved by it. Also, I sincerely believe you attract people like Ameen. You have a beautiful heart that people recognize.

I hope we can have a few pints together someday. On me.

Good luck onward, we're pulling for you, mate.