Category: Africa

Epic journeys require epic levels of planning and consideration. Usually by the time we are due to leave I am so overcome with what has to go right when balanced with what could possibly go wrong that I find myself lost in all the commotion. I knew this was the case, on past trips I have felt that the ‘holiday’ part has come toward the end, when we landed in Dubai last year for example. It is only when you get home that you realise that in fact the entire trip has been nothing but fun, good times and lifelong memories.

And so as I leave on a mini trip with Jack I feel somewhat different, it has consisted of very minimal planning and so I have managed to not get caught up in the chaos. Packing was done ad hoc without a list, a couple of hotels have been booked – Namely our first hotel, and last hotel. But outside that we have complete free rein.

We are headed to Egypt, but with a slight twist. We fly to Hurghada perched on the Red Sea and then head North to Cairo. From Cairo we expect to head South West into the Western Sahara and then through a few isolated oases before hopefully finding ourselves back on the Nile somewhere in the South of the country where we can hopefully brush off the sand and finish up in Luxor and the Valley of the Kings.

The initial issues surrounding the trip is the Western Sahara, supposedly transport links are snide and so getting from A to B is going to be something we have to figure out on the go.

I did consider just flying to Hurghada and then staying there, the weather is good, the beach is nice and the snorkelling world class. Or maybe head over to the Sinai and our new favourite beach bum, cum hippy retreat Dahab. But as I flicked the pages of the Egypt guide I realised that behind the Pyramids the country offers up world class history served with sand dunes, hot springs, ancient villages and the odd palm fringed oasis thrown in for good measure. There was so much more to Egypt and flying to Hurghada and chilling would be a waste. With that in mind, and with a sense of excitement rarely experienced we packed our bags, dusted the sandals off, revamped the first aid kit and boarded the 1640 from Wakefield to London.

Now you have to understand, Jack has bad luck. Seriously, whereas Charlie tends to create his own misfortune and Abi floats along with a gram of body weight unable to hurt herself or anyone else, Jack attracts bad luck.

I remember back in Thailand, when he hurt is foot, by the time I knew anything about it the sole of his foot was infected. He went to the island doctor and had to have his foot injected with anaesthetic and them sliced open whilst the object was removed and the wound cleaned. His screams of agony and his look of fear haunt to me to this very day.

Then in Indonesia he fell and smashed his face open leaving a gash about 2 inch on his forehead. Due to the fact we was on Bali (an island) the medical facilities weren’t great and so I physically had to hold jack down whilst his face was sewn up without anaesthetic. It was the worst moment (as a parent) of my life and it still is. Thankfully Jack is probably too old to remember it, but it was an awful situation. In any case the story goes that after his face had been sewn up the bill was something stupid like $300. We didn’t have cash available and so left his mothers passport as security. Once back at the hotel I was working through the costs and one of them was $30 for a teaspoon of Vaseline. The dressing was something ridiculous like $80 and it was clear we were getting pumped. The problem was we were on an island, and a passport short. And so a plan was hatched. I had hired a jeep and the medical centre was down an alley, Gemma (Jacks mum) would go into the the medical centre and say she needed her passport for the travel insurance. She would then claim she had to go outside to make the call since she had no signal, once outside she would run down the alley and out to the road where I was would be waiting for her to jump in and make our getaway.

As I sat waiting I wondered what could be taking so long, I was parked in an awkward place and traffic was mounting behind me. I was just about to set off when Gemma comes bolting out of this alley and hops in the jeep “quick lets go”. I sped off and saw the staff running out the alley chasing her. The bags were in the Jeep and we sped to the port. I ditched the vehicle and we hopped onto a boat that would take us out of Bali and toward Java. At every checkpoint and border we excepted to get busted but it never happened, still, Gemma has vowed to never return to Indonesia and I don’t blame her.

Anyway, the plan was that we would be tucked up in bed at our hotel at Gatwick North Terminal for around 10pm giving us a good nights sleep before getting up at 6am, having a fried breakfast, coffee and the catching our flight to Hurghada at 9.10am. Naturally things didn’t quite go to plan and the train to London suddenly came to a stand still. Turns out, some cheeky little shits had been nicking cable from the railway and deciding it was too long and heavy to carry, needed it cutting down. So they determined in their pea brain minds that the best way to do this would be to lay the cable across the railway so a train would come along and cut the wires. This was just outside Doncaster which in all honesty is the pea brain capital of the world and exists purely to churn out idiots to Jeremy Kyle, and so obviously the plan failed. What actually happened was the the signals for the entire East Coast mainline from York to Peterborough went out. Meaning every train was at a stand still for 2 hours whilst the issue and then resulting congestion was cleared. For us this meant our puny Grand Central train was to cancel at Peterborough where we would be loaded onto a different train. We eventually pulled into London around 9pm and made a bee line for the Underground. My tickets had timed out and wouldn’t work and as I was explaining to a staff member Jack suddenly had somehow opened the gate. Turns out he had picked up a random ticket in Peterborough and decided to put it in and it had worked. I couldn’t believe it and we made our way to London Victoria.

Naturally the next train to Gatwick had been cancelled and so we quickly grabbed a McDonald’s and found a new train. We climbed into bed around 11.30pm and slept through until the alarm at 6am.

Knowing we had a long flight ahead I had sorted breakfast for us and so we made our way through the breakfast buffet and Costa coffee on tap. Speaking of which I can really recommend Premier Inn Gatwick North, it is located right on the terminal doorstep and was faultless.

We was just about to walk into the airport terminal and Jack was running around being an airplane when he decided he would face plant the floor. It was bad. He literally made like a plank of wood and nutted the floor. Jack had decided that rather than use his hands to break his fall he would use his nose and so within a second his face was an explosion of claret and his nose had seriously swelled. He was in serious pain and I instantly thought he had broken his nose. We made for the terminal quickly whilst Jack screamed in pain and held his jacket to his face to stop the blood. I grabbed the attention of a Thomson desk worker who quickly called for medical help which arrived within a minute.

I really cannot fault the airport help, the medic cleaned Jack up and determined that his nose wasn’t broken. Once Jack had calmed down and was cleaned up the guy said “let’s get you through security so you can relax” I said it didn’t matter but he insisted, taking us to the front of the check in queue and chaperoning us to security. We were very grateful and so Charlie, if you are reading this, next time we get to an airport you know what to do 😉

The flight took off on time and as it ‘boosted’ down the runway Jack shook with excitement. I have to admit, as I saw a snowy England gradually get smaller beneath us I was looking forward to getting my shorts and my funk on.

After about 30 minutes into the six hour flight Jack proclaimed “I’m gonna die if I don’t get a drink dad”. Since I’m on a plane as I write this, and knowing Jacks luck I begrudgingly handed over £1.80 for a can of Pepsi. After sipping a mouthful from the plastic glass Jack decided to see whether the plastic glass would break if he squeezed it, right above his Playbook. Though the plane defies physics, the glass didn’t and as Jack looked at me with his wide “sorry eyes”, Pepsi all over his Playbook and himself I found myself smiling and looking forward more to spending time with him than I had before. He might have bad luck, might be hard work and might be a tornado of a boy that just whizzes around creating chaos, but he is Jack, my Jack, and I wouldn’t want him any other way x

When travelling we usually stay in basic places, and as the journey comes to an end, where most people would splurge and get some fancy hotel we find ourselves in a Bedouin home, no tv, no pool, just a few beds in a room, a window, a fan and a shower. We actually turned up and found a decent looking hotel, and as my bed vibrated via the bass around 11pm I went and confronted the owner who assured me it would be off by midnight. He claimed he owned the reggae bar behind and would make sure. By 2am it was still rocking the whole building and so after an argument with the owner we bailed.

Walking through the single street of Dahab in darkness, with all our gear, the kids were exhausted. It’s not the first time I had stropped and packed up at 2am, and it probably wont be the last. Yet as we walked on the hunt of somewhere open quickly, a few things became apparent – First of all no where was open, secondly no where even looked like we could make it be open, and thirdly Abi needed a wee.

We had walked right up the promenade and the only sound was the sea hitting the shore, the only light was the occasional lamp that had been left on in a waterside restaurant. I had already sussed we could seep in one of the many open restaurants if we needed to. Unlike in the UK, had we been busted a smile and a purchased breakfast would easily have quelled the situation, most likely we would not even have been bothered.

“Dad, I need a wee” said a very tired Abi. “Go by the wall” I advised. She hitched up her dress like she has done so many times before and did her thing whilst me and Charlie waited. “Dad, a poo has come out” I looked at her, squatted down, in near darkness on an abandoned sea front street in Dahab and sighed.

We searched for a hotel for ages, it seemed like everywhere was completely abandoned. Eventually we sneaked down a little sandy lane and I found a place called ‘fighting Kangaroo’ In complete darkness I noticed a door open and with the torch on my phone started mooching about trying to find a sleeping body. It was empty, but a curtain covered a door and I was just about to pull it back when a guy came out rubbing his eyes. He wasn’t arsed in the slightest and within no time, we had a room for a few quid per night.

That little snippet might seem insignificant, but it represents us and how we travel. Ok, we don’t always bail hotels during the night, but we are simple, basic and manage, or cope whatever the issue. And though how we are comes with experience and confidence, a large part of it come from knowing how people are. Recognising people and appreciating their way of life, and really, in Egypt, just as in India, or indeed Asia itself people exist to provide. Everyone want’s better from life, but Europe, like the US is quite unique in that people feel they have failed at life if they don’t have a sports car and mansion by the time they are 30. Though there are exceptions of course, by and large the rest of the world deem themselves successful if they can provide a meal of an evening. They don’t spend their lives dreaming of flying down the M1 in a Ferrari, or take a photograph with the sole reason of posting it on Facebook so everyone can look and go ‘wow, your kid went to a park’ In the UK we live in a country where seemingly everything done, is done to show others you have done it. I mean, remember the days we took photographs and put them in an album to show the odd person? Now, everything is done to better someone else, or ourselves. Resentment runs deep, really deep and from other peoples success some people find hatred, distrust, and malicious thoughts. And we really are the exception, the rest of the world outside the Western clique exists to exist. They find happiness despite the every day struggle. They are proud of the simplest of things – They work to eat and eat to enjoy and they laugh despite it all. The rest of the world is made up of simple people, who don’t need a fifty inch widescreen tv but would rather sit and watch the newest addition to the family try and walk. People that live by “never mind” crazy drivers that don’t get angry, a public service industry that is so slow it is infuriating, a climate that is unforgiving, and a government that couldn’t care less if it tried. But the people, the very heart of the country and their lives are so simple, yet so amazing, and they are so happy.

Our last night of the trip was spent laid on cushions underneath a palm tree looking up to the starry sky. We talked about what we had done and how pizza at Lena’s place in Athens seemed months ago, we spoke about the great parts of the trip, the boring parts, the fails, and we found ourselves laughing as we reminisced. I wrote earlier in the trip about how this year had been the easiest of all and it still stands. The kids have really pulled together and been an absolute asset and it hasn’t been a case of me and them, but us.

As I write this I am sat under the same palm tree, with a kitten trying to eat my toe listening to Tracy Chapman. Charlie and Abi are dancing on the rugs placed on the sand, and believe me, they can dance like I can do Yoga – And I can’t even touch my toes! But we have carried this energy with us from the very start. From the monsoons in India, the mountains, the altitude, the deserts. From the Himalayas to the plains of Northern India, to Delhi and back and through the Emirates to Africa. From motorcycles and paragliding to Camels and treks and waterfalls. I set the bar high this year and as Charlie just did the sideways crab dance past me trying to put me off I have to wrap this up. The epic ending I usually come up with has been replaced with a promise between the kids and I of returning to this very palm tree in twenty years. Of laying on the ground and remembering that it brought us not just laughter, smiles of reminiscence but was symbolic of who we are, what we we love and why we travel. The simple things in life are what we remember the most and as Abi now tries to do the dance from ‘thriller’ I thank everyone for following us – but there is a party under a palm tree, by the Red sea, on the last night of an 8 week journey I need to attend 🙂

We quickly bored of Sharm, the endless hassle and harassment, extortionate prices and constant battle with taxi drivers grated so much I decided we had to bail. The problem was, Sharm is quite isolated on the Southern tip of the Sinai, to the South is the ocean and to the north rugged mountainous terrain. However, there is a single road which runs right up the Eastern Coast to Aqaba, the border point for Egypt/Israel and Jordan. There was no way on earth we would head back to Jordan, and Israel was too much hassle and so during research of the whats and wheres I stumbled upon a small bedouin cum divers enclave an hour or so from Sharm.

Dahab is a magnet for divers from across the globe who head there to dive in the spectacular, crystal clear waters and endless reefs. And is habitat to over over a thousand different species of tropical fishes. Dahab is also the most relaxed place in the whole of Egypt and is pure hippy central. Where there are hippies there are backpackers and where there are backpackers is usually a laid back vibe, the stench of weed in the air and prices worth writing home about.

East Delta runs a bus from the station in Sharm at 6,7,8 and 9am with the remaining couple of buses from 14.30 onwards. The price is just LE£11 (a quid) and the journey takes a little over an hour with a police check point on the outskirts of Dahab. As we left our hotel and searched for a taxi to the bus station in Sharm I was genuinely in two minds about heading further afield. This was soon quelled when yet again getting a taxi was a mission that I had simply had enough of. The driver claimed there wasn’t a bus station and quoted us ridiculous prices. When he finally realised I was having none of it he headed to the station and as I looked out of the window at the tacky hotels, British men with mam and dad tattooed down their arms, and women looking like Barbie on a BBQ, I knew we had to leave.

The journey was, as far as journeys through rugged desert go, pretty scenic and the kindle never left my bag as I admired the natural and yet intimidating beauty of the Sinai. The kids were like usual on any journey with Abi playing something on her Playbook and Charlie on his fifth Harry Potter Book on his Kindle.

The great thing about Dahab, and I knew prior to arrival was that we wouldn’t need to take a taxi anywhere. Instantly the potential for hassle was minimised and so when the bus driver booted us off on the out skirts of Dahab we set off walking to town. After about a minute some bloke in a pick up truck pulled over and offered us a lift, I shiftied him a tenner (quid English) when he dropped us off at our hotel which is in a Bedouin camp and off we went. At 10am we checked in straight away and instantly, I knew heading to Dahab had been a good idea.

I am convinced that the air contains some noxious gas that renders people un-arsed and people unable to be arsed. The first two days in Dahab were therefore spent lounging around during the morning and then spending the afternoon snorkelling. Not having much of a beach, the promenade literally leads onto some of the two most spectacular reefs in the world. The first slightly north of the bay is Eels Garden, a 15 minute walk the garden is, like the name suggests full of eels. And I’m not talking about those mini things you get in a jar, jellied from Tesco. These bad boys are like pythons, about 6 foot long and with a girth like a lampost. Supposedly harmless they have kingsize teeth and look super hungry, they are bezza’s with the many barracudas and I just knew, one look from Abi and she would be terrified for life, so we ditched Eels Garden and headed to the more subtle Lighthouse Reef.

At the northern end of the promenade, this is where the divers head, and where the surface dwellers like us are in scuba paradise. The reef is easily seen, the water is like a milky turquoise white colour and the sea surrounding it is like a darker turquoise. You step in and walk around 5m with a water depth of about waistline. The reef is to the left and already teeming with life, but if you follow the reef suddenly the ocean opens up beneath you and you are facing a depth of around 30 feet with the reef going the full depth. It is like an underwater paradise and as clear as if you was looking across a room and not in the sea – absolutely stunning tropical fish, angel fish the size of a bin lid, we found Nemo and all his siblings, sting rays, octopus, and about a billion illuminescent things. Sizes ranged from around an inch, to about 3 feet, but the coral, wow. Genuinely wow. It was mind blowing, and Lighthouse reef careered head first into one of the 3 most amazing things I have ever seen and by far the most amazing habitat I have ever had the absolute privilege of witnessing.

Abi was intimidated by the vastness of the ocean beneath her and decided to stay shallow, but Charlie, chaperoned by me swam out into the sea where we shared an experience that we will both remember for the rest of our lives. He was mesmerised and claims it is the single most amazing thing he has ever seen and I get it completely. It is of such beauty that it makes you realise just what lay beneath us, a behemoth paradise that rivals anything on the surface of earth. An aquatic heaven in the firm of a tropical eco system, an absolute dream, we were not just glad to be in Dahab but found ourselves questioning why we had even bothered heading to Sharm El Sheik in the first place. There was of course people asking you to try their restaurant, visit their shop and a guy whose smile looked just like a camels mush. But with prices that were consistent with Cairo (about half that of Sharm) a lack of chavtastic sun seekers and hedonists, the laid back vibe and amazing waterworld there is probably few places that rival what Dahab serves up. For instance, about 6km north is the ‘blue hole’ one of the top diving spots in the world, it is a reef which from the shore descends into an abyss some 130m deep. We stayed away, because it is also renowned as being the most dangerous place to dive on earth. Not because it offers up anything significantly dangerous per se, but is extremely technical and novice divers lured by its reputation have found themselves underprepared at the wrong moment and have succumbed to the ‘divers cemetery’. I did toy with the idea of heading up there and snorkelling is supposedly great, but with the mass crowds that head there and potential for danger I just didn’t see the point, two young kids in tow, to try and find better than the spectacular we had already found at lighthouse reef.

In a place where ‘doing nothing’ is one of the most popular activities, where diving/snorkelling is amongst the best in the world and where the sun shines 365 days per year it is easy to understand the warning I was faced with when heading to Dahab. It was that Dahab ruins itineraries and holidays. People head there for a day and stay a month, those who leave wish they had arrived earlier and those already there are trying to juggle doing nothing with seeing a sub surface tropical paradise. But the problem is, like writing this – Everything in Dahab is just too much effort.

There are some parts of Egypt which have attracted trouble for a while and the Sinai, a wedge of desert placed between Egypt and Saudi Arabia is one such place. Since time began there have been crusades and many significant biblical events. It was Moses’s stomping ground and the birth place of the Ten Commandments.

The Sinai is, as far as anywhere goes – dodgy. In the North near the border with Palestine it is kicking off, next door relations with Israel are heated and Syria is occasionally wanging a bomb over the border. Jordan for now remains peaceful and Saudi Arabia is a terrorist hotbed. With that in mind it’s no surprise of the tensions in the area, however there’s not actually a great deal in the Sinai other than some hefty mountains, deserts and a gorgeous coastline. It is this coastline that attracts hordes of holidaymakers, and when holiday makers head for Sinai they head for Sharm El Sheik.

Sharm was bombed in 2005 killing 88 tourists and injuring 200 more, in addition the town of Dahab was bombed in 2006 killing 23 people and injuring 75, and a bombing in Taba killed 34 and injured more than 150 in 2004. In February this year there were two incidents of kidnapping of foreign tourists, thankfully all were released without harm. However, security remains tight and the Foreign Office of the UK states it is safe to visit all Red Sea resorts and the roads that connects them. This includes Sharm El Sheik, and the road there from Cairo.

Buses to Sharm leave ‘Cairo Gateway’ which no taxi driver will understand and so you must ask for ‘Turgomen’ tickets for the 8 hour journey are LE£60 (£6) on a 1970’s ‘claims it has air con but actually doesn’t’ relic.

Carry your passport on your person as once in the Sinai you go through airport security style checks complete with sniffer dogs and vigilant security guards. And it can be completely understood, Egypt is not just facing a battle of protecting it’s own citizens but also a tourists industry which brings the economy some $12.5Billion.

When researching the journey I was overwhelmed by people writing about how stunning the journey through the Sinai is and I was expecting big things. The fact is I was let down, literally for around the 6 hours it takes from Suez to Sharm on the right of the bus is the turquoise ocean which really is beautiful, with the odd settlement popping up every hour or so. And on the left you have desert which is eventually replaced by sand like mountains. It’s actually a lot like driving through Utah without the sea, amazing for about 5 minutes and then just same old same old.

We had spent our last day in Cairo in the Islamic area climbing Minarets and chilling out in Mosques, it was full on Islam and we found it amazing. But we were certainly ready for some relaxation and a relaxed attitude, and so when the bus pulled into Sharm bus station, near the old market and about 6km out of town we were ready.

I have to say, Sharm is not a place I ever envisaged myself, or my kids coming. For instance, we have never been to the Canary Islands, Ibiza, Tenerife, Majorca or Benidorm. And it is through choice and there is no way to beat around the bush – Chavs. No doubt there are a great number of people who visit the said places and are just like us, but unfortunately these places are pure knob head magnets. Loud, raucous, arrogant, pissed British people are just not my thing and so heading to Sharm I have to say, we expected the worst.

The taxi from the bus station to our hotel should have cost around LE£10 and we was instantly quoted LE£100. And, without harping on about taxis too much that was the flavour of things whilst we were there. We were staying near the old market, in the quiet part of town with the respite of a private pool and a surrounding area inhabited by no one. The action happens in Naama Bay some 6km North and again LE£10 in a taxi. By and large we managed to pay the right amount but it wasn’t without a struggle. Every taxi journey was a hardcore struggle to get a fair price and every single time we walked off before being chased down with a more reasonable price or the one I had asked for. A common scam is being given a price and then at the destination the driver suddenly meant English pounds and not Egyptian. I have to say, the only reason we were able to get half decent prices in taxis was due to the fact it was blatantly obvious we weren’t in Sharm on a package deal and had actually come from Cairo.

Pretty much, in fact everything in Sharm was a lot more than Cairo and in comparison to the UK prices are around the same, or marginally less. In comparison to Egypt, prices were about double. What was LE£7 in Cairo was LE£14 in Sharm etc. Even McDonalds was significantly more expensive and coming from the UK you probably wouldn’t notice much, but coming from Cairo I felt we were being scammed every time I bought something.

Naama bay is tourist central and is literally a pedestrianised massive area of nothing but tacky souvenir shops, restaurants and bars and places like the Hard Rock Cafe and TGI Fridays.

Home to both Pacha and Space it is party central, but surprisingly it was quite deserted whilst we were there and save for every single shop or place we walked past trying to get us to come in, I can’t honestly say much was going on. But the “Mr I love you, come in my shop for cheap goods” was well beyond boring after about the thousandth time.

However, if you can see past the taxi drivers, hassle and party central you will eventually come to a beach which is massively over developed and the restaurants etc really spoiling the whole beauty of the place. But…See past the beach and into the water and Sharm becomes a whole different world. And believe me, it is amazing.

The Red sea around the Sinai is world renowned for offering some of the best diving and snorkelling in the world. Hardcore divers looking for reefs and ship wrecks don’t head to the Caribbean, or to Australia – They head to Egypt, for the Red Sea is one of the clearest seas on earth, and teaming with coral close to shore it is a divers paradise. So, snorkel and mask in hand we headed into the warm, genuinely crystal clear water and started to snorkel. About 10m out with the depth being only a metre maximum, was a mini reef, home to loads of varieties of tropical fish it was stunning. I even saw a sting ray chilling out and when mixed with angel fish, those things off Finding Nemo and fish that must have been half a metre long and wonderfully coloured – Suddenly Sharm felt like the right place to be. Charlie commented “I could swim around that reef all day” and Abi is suddenly not going to become a Dr anymore, but a professional diver. Bot the kids and I were in our absolute element and no longer did we notice the overdeveloped shore line, but palm trees and no longer did we feel resentment for being there, but were really glad we had come.

Literally, our time in Sharm was spent travelling to, or from the beach and then was spent submerged in the sea in amazement.

The only place I have ever been which comes close to the diversity of the tropical fish was a tiny island off the coast of Mexico called La Isla Majures and though we didn’t have the white sandy beaches, Sol and Fajita’s we had the 38 degrees, half board hotel (first time for me) a tropical underwater paradise and each other, and I have to say – Sharm surprised me, it was actually pretty damn good!

Leaving the Emirates left us yet again a little sad, its difficult to explain a culture that is 50% immigrant. But in the Emirates multiculturalism not just works but thrives. Its amazing to see people from many different religions, backgrounds and countries all living together in absolute harmony. Fair enough, the Indians hate the Pakistani’s, the Pakistani’s hate the Indians, the Bangladeshi’s hate everyone and those from Sri Lanka couldn’t care less if they tried. But the in the United Arab Emirates everyone gets on, works together, lives together and laughs together. It’s almost as if when they checked out of their country they left all the hostility behind. Either that or the fact that the UAE takes a harsh stance on just about everything they realise they have no choice. In any case, it has succeeded where many countries have failed and cultural integration works and not just adds what we love about the Emirates, but makes it what it is. From the sterility of Dubai, the character of Abu Dhabi or the down to earth Sharjah, it still ranks high on our favourite countries in the world and as we left Sharjah Airport on the 0730 Air Arabia to Alexandria we certainly felt a little sad to be leaving.

But, through clear skies we headed to Africa. The view of Saudi Arabia from above was boring and when we touched down in Alexandria on the Northern Coast of Egypt it wasn’t too soon.

Egypt is a country that has changed, here they call it the revolution, and having been to Egypt some 6 years previous I have to agree – Things have certainly changed.

Alexandria is supposedly some amazing coastal city largely missed by most. The airport (Borj el Arab) is about an hour from town.

Turning up at the airport we headed straight for security, being the only foreigners on the plane I knew we needed a visa and so tried to find one. The place was closed and so after a bit of hassle we managed to knock someone up, convince him we were American (despite our British passports) and pay just $15 rather than the UK scam of £15. (A difference of £5 per passport)

Outside the airport the bus drivers of the buses that went to Alexandria tried telling me there were no buses that went to Alexandria and we must take a taxi. I was having none of it and soon enough we were headed, on a bus to Alexandria at almost twice the normal price of LE£10 each.

Egyptian currency has remained very stable against the UK £ since I was last there and it is 10:1. So 10 Egyptian pounds (LE£10) is the same as one British pound (£1)

To be honest what we saw of Alexandria was awful, littered streets, people arguing and a real sense of hostility. It wasn’t a nice place to be, but we were on the outskirts and so can’t really comment on the city proper. From the bus station (Maifa) we took the bus to Cairo. It cost LE£35 per seat and took about 3 hours.

The last time I was in Cairo I spent 7 nights at the Hilton, ventured out once, hated it and spent the rest of the week chilling out by the gorgeous pool. This time we had a reservation in Islamic Cairo and plenty to do on the agenda.

Tahrir Square – Maidan Tahrir, whatever your interpretation you must have been on the moon or seriously ignorant to have not heard that name touted in the news over the last two years. The centre of the Egyptian revolution, a million people protesting against the government and ultimate over throwers, the protesters in Tahrir Square are proof that in a democracy, the people do have the power. The whys and whats are complicated, but essentially people were pissed off with high unemployment, low standards of living and poverty. The previous government had decades to sort the struggle out but did nothing. Over time, the outlawed Muslim Brotherhood, an extreme Islamic party gained support as they offered the normal Egyptian hope. Despite being illegal the party gained seats in government. Citing that “Allah is our objective; the Quran is our law, the prophet is our leader, Jihad is our way; and death for the sake of Allah is the highest of our aspirations” Once Murbarak (the ex Egyptian PM) was booted out the party became legal and revamped itself according to a modern party that for the first time in history had a real chance at governing Egypt. The Freedom and Justice party was born and backed completely by the Muslim Brotherhood. The party won the 2012 elections and set about fulfilling promises made and putting Egypt not only on a path of Islam (which it overwhelmingly already was) but also looking after the average man.

Honestly, from my perspective I have noticed 3 prominent differences to my last visit.

The first is litter, the streets are dirty, litter is piled high and everywhere, it really does look like someone has lost control, or people simply aren’t bothered. But actually, that’s the only negative. The second thing is taxi’s, for decades notoriously dodgy black lada’s with a Mercedes Benz badge attached to the bonnet have been the absolute bane of tourists and locals alike. From extortionate fares, to arguments at the end of the journey about what was actually agreed, to going to places they decided you want to go to. They were awful, hated and thankfully are now a minority. Now the streets are filled with white taxis, all of which are metered and though the drivers speak little English, of the ten or so taxis I have taken not a single one has ripped me off (I know because I have been armed with Google maps) Yes the traffic is still awful, yes arriving at your destination is a blessing and near miracle but the fact is LE£10 will get you from one side of the city to another (a quid)

The third thing I have noticed is the overt friendliness of the people. “Welcome” is a very common thing to hear, people asking “do you need anything” or “can I help you” All with no scam attached, just pure friendliness. People have walked out of their way to help us, spent time advising us and warned us of places to avoid (the city is still tense in places) After chatting to a guy called Rami on the metro he invited us to his home for dinner, which overlooks the Pyramids, he suggested we come that night and watch the light show, for free whilst his wife cooked us dinner. I mean, where else in the world would you get that? And I think it’s all down to national pride. Egyptians are proud of who they are, of their country and that you want to visit their country makes them want to welcome you. Undoubtedly, without exception, we have found the inhabitants of Cairo to be the friendliest people we have ever come across, in any city we have ever visited. Which at the last count was near two hundred international cities. Such is the warmth and friendliness of the Cairenes and in many ways it really does make for the whole experience. Not once have we felt threatened, hostility or imminent trouble. We genuinely have been welcomed with open arms by everyone we have come across in the city.

If you was to sit and think of ten historical or global landmarks, you would probably end up drawing the Pyramids. If you then went and showed your ten landmarks to any child in the UK over the age of 7 they would probably recognise the Pyramids first.

The Pyramids of Giza are probably the most iconic, recognisable, historical monuments on earth. In fact, as I sit here I cannot think of a single thing more recognisable, neither can the kids.

Egyptian history has been fascinating people since day one and in their wake they left behind some of the most mysterious landmarks civilisation has ever seen. Some people believe they are so geometrically impossible they were built by aliens. others don’t know or care and archeologists change their mind every decade or so. The current grain of thought is this… Science has proven they were built about 2500BC and were tombs for Pharaohs. One of the seven wonders of the world, how they were constructed baffles even the construction experts of today. Boffins reckon it would take around 100,000 people to construct a Pyramid and Hollywood says these were all slaves. When I was a kid that was also passed off as fact. However, now historians believe that they were built by farmers as part of a nationwide work programme. The Nile is why Egypt exists, that much is fact. During winter it floods, then in summer the dry, salty flooded ground makes for perfect crops. But this would only provide income for the farmers for half of the year. It is reckoned that when the floods came people got skint and so would help bang up Pyramids, using the flooded plains as the perfect means of transport for the hefty blocks required for construction.

Historians will probably change their mind, but what has remained fact ever since the Pyramids were first discovered is their awesomeness. Seriously, few things on earth hold such a ‘wow-factor’ as the pyramids of Giza.

Unfortunately this for most visitors is ruined by the hardcore scams in force.

We took the metro to Giza (LE£1) each and then hopped in a Taxi and were seemingly the first people to ever as for a taxi to the Pyramids. Ask for ‘Taz Ka Het, Sharia al-Haram’ you’re basically asking for the ticket office as close as possible to the pyramids. The driver of course has never heard of probably the most visited place in the whole country and perhaps even Africa and will take you to the Southern end near the Sphinx. Here you will be sold a counterfeit ticket and end up being refused entry. Do not get out of the taxi until you reach the ticket office, no Sphinx in sight, just a Pyramid. When the driver finally realises he wont get paid unless you get to where you know you need to be he will try stopping at all the people on the way waving him down, claiming they are the police. The police in Egypt look like 70’s porn stars and wear complete white. Simply wind the windows up, lock the doors and and tell the driver not to stop. Its not a nice situation to be in as they bang and spit on the car knowing you have sussed them.

Once at the ticket office kids are free, and adults pay LE£60 but try getting free kids tickets. I did and failed having to pay LE£30 each.

None of the guards at the Pyramids wear uniform and the police are as bent as a hairpin. Upon entrance people would grab my arm, aggressively asking me for my ticket. Do not give it to anyone, always keep hold. Once inside the area you do not have to give your ticket to, or pay for entrance to anything other than inside the pyramids. Despite our paths being blocked by people assuring us we had to pay and people getting aggressive that I had hired them as a guide because they pointed me in some direction I never took we paid for nothing. I can fully understand people hating the experience and thats before you talk about the hardcore camel touts claiming they’re riding Charlie Brown and the most handsome Camel in Egypt.

To us they were lame compared to what we had come across in India and so with a smile and a bit of humour we found the experience to be quite manageable. We spent around five hours in the complex, we walked everywhere, to parts most don’t bother with and found isolated places where there was no one else to be found. We climbed, explored, and at one point sat on the sand looking up to a Pyramid, complete silence other than our conversation and laughter. With temperatures around 30 degrees we found it perfect, some 20 degrees below what we had become accustomed to it was great, really. We came across places not even listed in our guide. We found one Pyramid, completely abandoned by everyone else and a guy popped out of no where claiming to be a guard and insisting we went inside. The tiny corridor descended sharply downwards and took us into a tiny tomb area. It was claustrophobic but amazing, almost surreal. As expected on the way out I slipped the guy a couple of quid baksheesh and we went off on our way.

Making our way down to the Sphinx we exited the area and hopped in a taxi back to Giza. Fare each way was about LE£15 (£1.50)

The remainder of the afternoon was spent exploring coptic Cairo, and area with old churches and a really relaxing place. In a country that is run by a Muslim party and is 90% Muslim it felt kind of odd to see Christian buildings in an Islamic country.

But then you only have to look back to the revolution and see the Muslims making a human chain around the Christians protecting them whilst they prayed to realise the tolerance and understanding of these people. It doesn’t take long to realise that though “Welcome” is overused the world over, Cairo is one of the few place where it exudes it’s very meaning. Welcome to Cairo, welcome to Egypt, I hope you enjoy my country.