Friday the 13th I flew from Berlin, changed in Budapest and arrived in Cairo at 3 in the morning. Malev Hungarian Airlines had brand new planes, no worries. But heading to a third world bus station in the middle of the night isn't quite my idea of fun. Especially with the U.S. President pulling up his pants and rattling his swords in this general direction.
Going through customs, I saw some Hungarians with diving equipment bags. I chatted one up, even though he spoke no English. Three words were enough - "Scuba? Sharm-el-Sheik? Yes (nod, nod)?"
Outside the terminal, I considered my alternatives...
And then threw my pack on top of their tour bus, got on and sat in the back.
Routine for the next eight hours: drive, stop, pee, drive, repeat. East to the Suez Canel, then south to the tip of the Sinai. I pretended to nap, shared some whiskey, and smiled nicely at incomprehensible comments. They thought I was Hungarian until lunch break.
All desert, the place oil comes from. Strangely beautiful but barren. I believe we passed through Bumfuck, but didn't stop.
Once in Sharm-el-Sheik, no more pretending. Kasim, tour director at their hotel, was nice about the stowaway thing, even gave me a ride to the bus station after a little baksheesh. More than he was expecting, less than I was expecting to pay for a bus from Cairo. A great deal all around.
Of course the bus to Dahab wasn't to leave for a while. I "negotiated" a deal with a taxi van driver to bring me those last 100 kilometers. I paid, he let me sit in front, and everyone who'd been waiting for the regular bus got in the back. Hmm.
Nice scenery, along the coast and through desert hills. The taxi driver tried talking politics. He said, "Clinton no good". I nodded and replied, "Clinton no good". Then he took out an orange and gave me one, too.
The skin from his orange went out the window, while I kept my peelings in a pile. As he took them from me, I commented, "Egypt - beautiful country". He was stuck for a minute, hesitating to chuck them out. Fortunately, the day was saved when a flock of sheep crossed the road in front of us. He scattered the peelings in their direction, and said, "beautiful sheep, beautiful tourists!".