Don't pass gas

Day 271

Milage 24,480 (39,168 km)

Giza, Egypt

Cairo, Egypt’s dusty, bustling capital, Africa’s largest and fastest growing city somehow functions under the strain of warring political factions, limited recourses and a faltering economy. The resilience and resolve of its enormous population is infectious. The energy of this remarkable city is almost palpable, it is a thriving metropolis built upon a historical legacy stretching back over many millennia. The streets are impossibly crowded and the notorious traffic keeps moving as drivers squeeze through its clogged arteries from its thumping heart to its ever expanding periphery. I was apprehensive about plunging into the chaos but once you learn to accept its rhythm and go with the flow it can be sadistically pleasurable to ride through the narrow gaps that briefly appear between overloaded trucks and smoke belching buses. The screeching of brakes and the blaring of horns are ubiquitous throughout, adding to the atmosphere of urgency and excitement. How anyone could live amidst this urban extravaganza amazes me but they do, in their millions. I have heard many estimates as to what the true numbers are but most agree the population of Cairo and its suburbs is close to 30 million. Add to this the current state of heightened police and military activity, where many streets are blocked by tanks and barbed wire barricades, and it should be cause for complete gridlock but it somehow manages to keep going. 

The political situation here is very complex, the revolution that overthrew Mubarak three years ago seems set to come full circle and a return to the way it was before the uprising now seems inevitable. The optimism that gripped the country until recently has mostly evaporated and the brief experiment with democracy seems to have backfired. The corruption that fueled the protester’s anger is so deeply ingrained that the entire system would need to be overhauled if genuine change were ever to take place. The military was, and is, in control and many fear they always will be. Speaking to people who took part in the events in Tahrir Square it is clear that the ideals they fought so bravely for have come to nothing. There is a revolving door between the military and most branches of government with many retired officers going on to assume key roles within the country’s fragile infrastructure. When the Muslim Brotherhood took power the country was plagued by rolling power cuts, water and fuel shortages much of it engineered to weaken the newly elected leadership. A population can only tolerate disruption like that for so long and soon the strain began to manifest itself in further protests until the military staged a coup and resumed power, having never really conceded it. They now control the media with such an iron fist that any dissent is dealt with harshly. Arrests are common and newspapers and television stations have been shut down if they challenge the status quo. Bassem Youssef, the wildly popular satirical news reader, has been taken off the air for openly criticizing the government. Facebook and Twitter have both been targeted for censorship and the military retain the power to cut off all forms of external communication. Much has been learned from the methods employed by the original protesters and the new regime is taking all precautions to prevent a repeat of the events of three years ago.

My lovely horse la la la...

Sadly, the tourism industry has suffered greatly as international news outlets report only on the sporadic violence that occasionally rocks the country. While the revenue from the Suez Canal supports the government and the military, many working class people rely upon tourism as their primary source of income and visitor numbers have been dramatically impacted over the past three years because of how Egypt has been portrayed by the international press. At no point in my travels through Egypt have a felt threatened or uncomfortable, there has been plenty of staring but when I react with a smile it is often reciprocated. The felucca captains and the taxi drivers certainly hustle for business but two or three polite refusals and they retreat to look for business elsewhere.

Arriving in Cairo I was promptly greeted by Sam, a Horizons Unlimited member and keen overland enthusiast. A mild mannered, good natured teacher by day and an intrepid explorer during his time off, he can often be found roaming the infamous Sand Sea in his trusty Landrover ‘Stella’. Our first night was spent exchanging stories over curry and lager before returning to his ground floor apartment in a grand old colonial house in the suburbs of Maadi. Sam’s last trip into the Western Desert, along some of the routes used by the Long Range Desert Group during the second world war, had involved getting shot at by the Egyptian army, stumbling across an active smuggler’s cache and rolling one of the Landrovers, exciting stuff. Using Maadi as a base I dropped in to the BMW motorcycle store to meet with Haytham and Gehad for a chat about suitable rides while in Egypt. They invited me to stop by the Egypt Motorcycle School (EMS) afterwards to meet some of the local riders and take care of a few routine maintenance procedures on my bike. When I dropped by the school later in the week I was very impressed by the operation they run with a small fleet of Chinese bikes for introducing beginners to basic skills and a couple of bigger Japanese road bikes for the more advanced students. All lessons came with helmets and body armor included, two things you rarely see on the roads in Egypt. Nothing else like this exists in the country and it was encouraging to see the level of professionalism with which they approached educating young riders. 

The great crew at Egypt Motorcycle School (EMS)

My bike was overdue for an oil change and a bit work on the chain and the guys at EMS insisted on supplying everything I needed and completing the work on the bike. Afterwards they put on a spread of food that could have fed a small army and before long we were making plans for some desert rides while I was in the area. 

EMS chain gang

During my stay in Cairo I couldn’t resist a visit to the Pyramids of Giza so I made my way out to the edge of the city where the desert plateau meets the suburbs and spent a day exploring these amazing structures. Nine pyramids occupy the Giza site along with numerous other lesser temples but it is the three pyramids of Khufu, Khafre and Menkaure along with the iconic Sphinx that make this site so well known. The last remaining structures of the seven ancient wonders of the world they served as mausoleums for the pharaohs on their path to the afterlife. Standing at the base of each structure it is hard to imagine the physical effort required to put each block in place, never mind the thousands that went into each pyramid all without modern machinery and each one still stands strong after over four millennia. They don’t make them like they used to. Imagining all that physical effort made me quite thirsty so I retired to the nearby Mena House Hotel for a cold beer, a rather fancy hotel and way out of my league but with a spectacular view of the pyramids nearby I couldn’t resist it.

The following day I ventured into the city centre via the Cairo Metro, one of only two fully fledged metro systems in Africa, it moves around a billion passengers annually for the minimal fee of  one Egyptian pound. Once in the city I sought out the Egyptian Museum for its extensive collection of pharaonic artifacts including the evocative death mask of Tutankhamen. Cameras are confiscated upon entry so the postcard vendor sees plenty of trade. After the museum I attempted to wander through Tahrir Square but the military had the entire area cordoned off with barbed wire and tanks, there were no signs of any protesters and much of the graffiti that adorned the surrounding buildings has been painted over. From Tahrir I wandered through the heart of the city towards the grand bazaar of Khan al-Khalili, a warren of alleyways selling a prodigious variety of locally made goods. The smells that waft through the dark narrow passages combine  the sweet fragrance of the bubbling sheeshas with the tangy scent of fresh spices. The market thrives with activity and there is a noticeable absence of the tourist tack that I’ve found in many other city bazaars, this one felt like the real thing. 

The pyramids of Giza

It was eventually time to leave the city and turn south, yet again. Four potential routes are possible from Cairo to my eventual destination of Aswan and after talking to local riders I opted for the Oasis Road which takes a long, lonely detour through the Western Desert. After almost a week in one of the world’s busiest cities the prospect of spending time in the peaceful desert looked very appealing. On my last morning in Cairo, Sam insisted that I join him, Natalie, Connie and Kiki on a leisurely breakfast cruise along the Nile in a traditional white sailed felucca so I could hardly refuse. It was a great way to finish a fantastic stay and by mid afternoon I was back on the bike and battling my way through the crazy Cairo traffic. It took a full hour to clear the city and I was soon rolling into the desert, past the pyramids, and away from the chaos. The Oasis Road is the least travelled of all the southerly routes in Egypt so I often had it all to myself and as the miles rolled by and I got deeper into the desert I could feel a sublime peacefulness settling over my mind and body. The desert has a peculiar energy to it, something that is entirely alien to an Irishman, there is a  sense of serenity underscored by a subtle sensation of danger. As beautiful as it is, it can also be deadly and the unique combination inspires a feeling of wonderment. 

With fuel in short supply I filled my auxiliary tanks for the first time with the intention of testing the true range of the bike while fully loaded. I had called ahead to my first stop at Bahariya Oasis, over 400 km from Cairo, and had been told they had not had any fuel delivered for several days and the small town was dry. The next possibility for picking up fuel would be another 200 km beyond that, at Farafra Oasis, and they were unsure whether there would be fuel there or not. Beyond Farafra it would be another 200 km and I knew this was well beyond my maximum range but I set off anyway knowing it would all work out and if I had to spend a few days waiting for a fuel delivery then I could enjoy the desert even more. My late departure from Cairo left me on the road with not enough time to beat the sunset and after my first experience in Egypt driving at night I had no desire to have another. With the gear I carry on the bike I can stop and camp anywhere so I told myself if it gets too sketchy I can just pull over. The lack of traffic and the reasonable road surface allowed me to make good progress and by the time it was completely dark I knew I was only within an hour of my intended stopping point so I pushed through. It may not sound like such a big deal but driving at night in Egypt can be a white knuckle, butt clenching experience. The habit of driving without lights still baffles me but the road surfaces can deteriorate rapidly and it is not uncommon to see the bloated corpse of a camel on the side of the road, and then there are the potholes. These nocturnal demons like to come out at night, especially the big ones, they are hard to spot until you are almost upon them and then you have the dilemma of whether or not to weave to avoid them on a questionable road surface or gun the throttle and try to lift the front wheel over them. 

The empty Oasis Road

Obviously I made it to the first oasis without any serious mishaps and I was soon settling in to the Desert Safari Home of a wise old Bedouin named Madry Khozam. Madry sees so many overland bikers that it is expected that you park your machine inside the lobby and he had a hot meal waiting for me after my long ride. After a great night’s rest and a delicious, traditional breakfast of egg, beans and bread, we sat talking in the sunny courtyard about the road ahead and the roads we have travelled. When he handed me a few of his cards to distribute to bikers traveling in the opposite direction I hesitated and then pulled out one of my own. He immediately commented on the photo of Beth and I and asked as to her whereabouts. Reluctantly, I shared my story about how the last few months have been and he sympathized with my situation but added that my journey will provide me with the answers I seek. 

With no fuel available in the Bahariya Oasis I topped up my main tank from my external auxiliary supplies which total and extra 9 liters, just over two gallons, hoping that my next stop in Farafra would have more. The road south took me through the Black Desert where the sand is coated with a dark, thin layer of volcanic dolerite from the surrounding mountains which gives impression of riding across the surface of a darkened, apocalyptic wasteland. Further south the road then cut through edge of the White Desert where wind sculpted, snow white rock formations create an even more surreal landscape. As I entered the region I found myself riding into the heart of a powerful sandstorm. With little hope of finding shelter I pushed on to my next destination, as visibility dropped, the sand penetrated everything, at one point I could see less than 20 meters ahead and I had to adjust my speed accordingly. Coated in a fine white powder I eventually emerged on the south side of the storm crunching sand between my teeth. 

After several days of involuntary exfoliation in the desert I emerged once more into the Nile Valley just outside Luxor. The road across the final desert plateau had taken much longer than I had anticipated with the surface deteriorating with every mile I travelled. Cracked and twisted by the intense summer heat, at one point it vanished altogether and I had to pick my way between large mounds of sand to find a way through. After that the road became a muddy, slippery mess for many miles as it was clearly still under construction. I was thankful for the semi-off road Heidenau K60 tires I’d had fitted to the bike several months before. The subsequent delay left me on the road after dark yet again and as I dropped down into the fertile Nile Valley it became apparent that my arrival had coincided with the annual harvest of sugar cane. Overloaded tractors and trailers were piled high with the sugary stalks forming long convoys of what looked like a moving snake of vegetation, children lined the roadside chewing on a sweet bounty of stray cane that fell from the precarious loads. 

Karnak Temple, Luxor

Luxor proved to be a fascinating city on a beautiful stretch of the Nile River with an extraordinary concentration of ancient ruins. I couldn’t resist exploring a few of the local sites and spent a day longer than I had planned to in the area. With Aswan so close and the ferry to Sudan departing once a week on a Sunday, I decided to eventually push south to give myself enough time to organize the paperwork and finalize booking arrangements. The road from Luxor to Aswan, though relatively short, is incredibly busy and every town along the way has installed some of the most brutal speed bumps I have ever experienced. For almost 200 kilometers I rarely made it out of third gear and the entire journey took close to four hours. 

And so I find myself in Aswan, Egypt’s southernmost city and more African in character than anything I have experienced on this journey so far. The Nubian culture is more dominant here and the pace of life is much more relaxed than in the north. Today I loaded my bike onto a slow barge to Wadi Halfa, in Sudan, and tomorrow I take the 18 hour journey by passenger ferry upstream along the Nile River. The road that will eventually replace the need for the ferry is not yet fully open to the public and a permit to use it is extortionately expensive but I can think of worse ways to spend a day than taking a slow boat along the Nile.

Egypt has been the first country on this journey where I have had to travel alone but I have yet to feel truly lonely, the people I have met along the way have exceeded all of my expectations and I feel a little guilty for some of the stereotypes I brought with me to this part of the world. I doubt I would have been exposed to as much warmth and generosity had I not been traveling solo and as I prepare to move on I can only look back at how this trip has evolved and focus on the positive experiences that may not have occurred had things turned out differently. The truly amazing gift of spending time at home over the Christmas holidays would probably not have happened and the overwhelming support and encouragement of family and friends through these difficult times has made me feel more loved and cared for than I ever could have imagined. On top of all of this I have the opportunity to practice forgiveness, to liberate myself from the anger and bitterness that darken my thoughts, those ugly, primal emotions that feed into negativity and depression. There are still ups and downs but I take each day as it comes and realize that it is my attitude that will define how the world perceives me and how I perceive the world. I feel a strength growing inside me with each day that passes and as daunting as the road ahead can appear at times, I know, that whatever challenges I may encounter I have the resourcefulness and ability within me to prevail. I saw a t-shirt on my walk back from the Sudanese embassy after securing my visa, it said "You don't know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have". 

Sunset on the Nile