Shock, Awe, and Arrival

Cairo, Egypt

My first impression of Cairo was one of surprise. The warnings of smell, of intense heat, the crush of people, none of those were present. In their place was chaos. Eric and I stumbled out of the airplane as everyone pressed forward without any sense of order. The very same people who calmly entered the aircraft in London were now clamouring out with the urgency of water breaking a dam.

Eric and I smiled at each other and shrugged our shoulders. We are not in Canada now.

The airport maintained the them of pandemonium and I was glad we had decided to not take any checked baggage. It was one less ordeal. When we entered the main reception the cacophony was overwhelming at first. As tour guides, taxi drivers, and other individuals whose role I could not determine all blocked our way and called out to us. We kept close together; afraid we would lose each other in the deluge of activity. We eventually found our driver and we weaved through the melee and found our car. I sat in the back seat and sighed in relief. It was short-lived relief.

I have been told the legendary tales of Cairo traffic. I knew there would be speed and crazy driving. But I figured living seven years in Montreal would account for something. We took off onto the main highway and I was pretty sure we looked like the starship Enterprise in the opening credits of Star Trek. To best describe the experience you need to envision a cross between the chariot race in Ben Hur, the movie Death Race 2000, Mad Max: Fury Road, The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift, and a ballet consisting of thirty-eight ten year olds hopped up on sugar trying to do a ballet that is a combination of Swan Lake, the climactic scene of the original Star Wars, and an episode of Dora the Explorer.

At one point, around the 130km per hour mark, I noticed through the haze of fear that the highways had large iron walls on each side. I figured this was a way in which we could not actually see how time was slowing down as a result of our speed. Also, it kept the carnage on the road.

As we careened, then plowed, then careened some more towards our destination, I began breathing again out of necessity. Our car pulled up to the front of the Novotel Hotel El Borg and Eric and I stumbled out of the back seat, spilling out on either side of the car. We tipped the driver, thanked him for not killing us and walked in.

We were both exhausted from our flights, but the ride in managed to get our blood pumping. So, we dropped off our luggage and made our way up to the rooftop café. It was well into night and the moon hung heavy over Cairo. A stiff wind blew through the restaurant, causing napkins and tablecloths to flutter. Cairo was busy and dynamic and vast while the Nile snaked her way through the city, a dark line meandering among the lights.

We were cold. We were early in the shoulder season of winter where lower Egypt is not yet oppressively hot and the sun was long gone. I went back to the room to change into a long sleeved shirt but did not wear it long as we ate quickly and returned to our room within the hour.

Our window had a direct view of the Cairo Tower. It reminded me of the many towers throughout the city of Rome, but with a distinct Arabic flavour. I stared at it for a long while, trying to process that I was in Egypt at long last.  But I was too tired and went to bed.