It’s taken all of nine days but it’s finally happened – I have loud and explosive diarrhoea. I always seem to pick it up when I leave Europe so I’m not too worried about it but it’s annoying all the same. After a large explosion in Hurghada last night, we took a night bus up to Cairo where I proceeded to explode in a café on Midan Tahrir and again in the public toilets in Giza’s El Monib bus station. A five hour bus ride later, we’re in the beautiful Bahariya Oasis where my stomach has obliged and redecorated the toilets in the Sahara Camp where we’ve shacked up for the night.
Cairo was loud and hectic as before – after a bumpy, sleepless night on the bus we rolled into Cairo early, and after searching for a café for my newly-adopted morning ablutions, we headed off to Turgoman bus station in the centre of town for a bus to Bahariya. The guy told us that El Monib was the only bus station they left from so we took a metro ride down into the far reaches of Giza and after a long search during which we asked directions from Metro workers, firemen, policemen and various others, we finally found a microbus station under a fly-over, beyond which was hidden the bus station. Hurrah!
The bus left an hour later than we thought giving us 2 hours to kill. The girls left to wander around the university district and Ruben and I who were tired and feeling like crap/pissed off at the world respectively stayed behind the watch the bags. Being scientifically-minded individuals, we killed some flies and put them in front of an ant, which wandered off in search of help and came back with an army, who carried the fly across the road, up a 40cm vertical wall to the pavement, and across towards the roadside café we were sat at. Our curiosity satisfied and after some high praise directed at ant society in general, we saw M and Natalie came back armed with toilet paper and snacks. The bus pulled up and we departed towards the desert.
T's sandals were denied entry to our cute little camp home due to health and safety regulations.
Arrival in Al-Bawiti, main town of the Bahariya Oasis,was like at any small town which makes a proportion of its living from tourism. We got our bags and were immediately swooped on by touts from every camp and hotel in town, hounding us until one of them got the idea that we needed time and apologized, taking the others away and giving us time to talk. We eventually left with him to a camp which was beautiful but had a price tag to match and we’ve ended up in the only marginally less nice Sahara Camp. Our new friend Loly had a word with the owner and then looked at us and said “I have to tell you – there will be a Bedouin wedding party here tonight. Is that OK with you?”. It sure was! So here we sit, Bedouin music rattling out from tinny loudspeakers, under a thatched roof, the others enjoying their food while I give my stomach a break, occasionally rewarding it for its watertightness with a Pringle or two. I’m looking on enviously as they throw down their home-made rice with chicken and vegetables but, inch’allah, my stomach will soon decide to cooperate again and I can join in the fun.
Ruben and Natalie are off on a desert safari tomorrow but M and I are staying here – M has her thesis to finish and I’ll spend half of the day nervously eyeing the toilets. A few nights in the desert, though, in this friendly and atmospheric camp site with its wooden huts, is exactly the kind of lazy setting we need to get our energy levels back up to be ready for a weekend in Alexandria and Cairo.
T and stomach have a half-time team talk.
No comments:
Post a Comment