Football fever in Cairo!

It was the eve of the football match between Egypt and Algeria. I was sitting on a bus in the middle of a traffic jam, heading into town with a bunch of over-excited kids creating more noise than the cars around us.
These kids were from a non-government run school that my Australian friend Natasha (who I was visiting) has been working at for the past 2 years. After accompanying Natasha out to the school, we were on the bus with the kids who were headed into town for a performance. Natasha whispered as we boarded the bus to be warned of the inevitable high decibel levels we were about to experience, which were only to increase due to the football. Armed with drums and excitement, the kids got on the bus with electric energy. I know Melbournians can be sport crazy, however nothing prepared me for the fever that sweeps through Egypt during football season! Immediately the drumming and chanting began, the kids dancing, clapping, shouting, singing and jumping. The closer we got in to town, the louder they became, hanging out the windows bellowing their excitement at the cars we passed. Our bus became the centre of attention, and soon, amidst all the city traffic, we had the whole neighbourhood honking in rhythm to their drum chant. It was hilarious, and I enjoyed watching the looks on peoples faces change from confounded interest to appreciation and amusement. That night, I could hear every scored goal as the whole city erupted in their roar of applause. The game came to a sudden halt, as the city became strangely subdued. Egypt had lost to their Algerian opposition. We were relieved, as the quiet allowed us some sleep!

Chaotic Cairo!

A boisterous symphony of gregarious, colorful and varying pitched horns punctuating the drone of unrelenting traffic creates the pulsating musical hum of Cairo. Much like a vacume, the never stopping city sucks you in to its interior and whirls you about in the noise, dust and dirt and other things it's picked up along the way.

As I walk around the streets of downtown Cairo the call to prayer echoes through the city above the noise of traffic. People are everywhere. Rubbish, dirt and grime litters the cracked footpaths. A cat sneaks past me, eyeing off a feast of discarded food scraps in a gutter. Parked nearby is an old unused car, covered in filthy dirty grey dust. A testiment to the thick polluted air that covers the immense city. I head down a narrow street lined with fruit vendors creating a little hub of colour and action. Bargaining cheerfully with one of the vendors, I purchase a couple of bananas, a percimman, and a mandarin. He enthusiastically throws in two weird looking fruits when I ask what they are. They didn’t taste that good, and I’m still a little unsure what they are!!

It is a pac-man game to be a pedestrian. Getting across the road in one piece seems like a death wish! But, I learn fast as I watch and imitate the locals crossing the roads of the constant stream of traffic. A little secret hand-signal (shown to us by Jess and looking not unlike the same signal you‘d use to appreciate delicious food) actually has a satisfying power over oncoming vehicles. With this, and a focused, confident stride through the waves, crossing the road actually becomes less daunting!

I sneak up to the top level of the Hyatt hotel. A clear day brings a stunning view of the Nile and the whole city. The nile river is lined with shady trees, which I suspect would create a lovely haven from the heat of the sun during the summer months and a semi-peaceful retreat any time. Along the river Feluccas and other boats cruise, rocking with amplified Egyptian rock music.

Cairo transforms at night, with it’s lit-up shop windows and masses of people strolling along, talking, eating, window-shopping and enjoying the ‘night-life’. Caironiens dont seem to sleep! All night, the city is pumping, moving, churning, and ever honking!

With a bit of trepidation, I pluck up the courage to hop into a taxi to head into the heart of the confused sprawl of this crazy city! Lane markings, stop signs, traffic lights….seem to be merely ‘decorations’ to be completely ignored as we swerve through the traffic with the horn announcing our presence. After being in these bustling crazy middle-eastern cities for enough time now, I have become used to the seemingly chaotic road rules - where cars pave their way like people do with shopping trolleys in a crowded supermarket. Amongst the cars, there are people straddling bicycles delicately balancing loads of stacked bread, the occasional donkey harnessed to a cart with a guy nonchalantly staring like he’s trotting somewhere in a remote farming village. The taxi driver dumps me out in Khan al Kahlilil, where I hand him 15E pounds, hoping that he’d be happy with the price. I find myself right near the local fruit and vegetable market and walk around absorbing the colorful atmosphere. Eventually, I stumble across the big market area of Cairo - the Souq. People cram into small winding streets and alleyways with shops selling all different types of wares. Spices, jewelry, souvenirs, scarves, crafts, and various hardware. I find a little felafel stand for lunch, and for 40 cents I buy two tasty felafel rolls with salad. I eventually find myself sandwiched in between a mass moving crowd heading down a long street lined with brightly colored clothes and fabric. Most of the crowd are women, adorned with their colorful headscarves, and holding tightly to the small hands of their children who look up at me wide-eyed with curiousity. We move slowly and steadily, forced to cram even more when a guy with a cart loaded with a huge bundle pushes his way through the crowd. The street ends spewing its people out onto an extremely busy road. The noise which was already loud with people calling out and bargaining, becomes deafening with the roar of traffic and incessant honking. I gulped in the fumed air and began finding my way in between the cars, people, carts and bicycles. Seeking a few minutes of refuge, I step into a busy little shop selling all sorts of dried fruit and nuts. I decide to buy some cashews and stand waiting at the counter. Once again, I am reminded of my foreigness as waiting ‘politely’ achieves nothing! I am forced to elbow my way in amongst all the pushing and shoving women, and shout out my request. I am then told the price, and directed to pay for it at a counter on the other side of the shop, and receive a ticket which I have to show to collect my nuts. Once paid, I have to push my way back in again and wave my ticket around to get the attention of the server. Nuts in hand, and with a surge of renewed energy, I head back into the market area for a last peak at the shopping circus!

Beneath the obvious chaos of the sleepless, dirty, busy city, Cairo certainly has a charm with its welcoming and beautiful people. Greeted constantly with nods of welcome, warm smiles, gently curious eyes, and the eager ‘hello’ and ‘welcome to Egypt’ were lovely introductions to this hospitable city. I found myself quickly discarding any previous ill-informed pre-conceived judgments of this city and apart from its polluted air and congested traffic, I discovered a fascinating, and richly layered city that I would love to spend more time in.

Desert wonderings....the DEAD SEA, PETRA and WADI RUM

The road to the Dead Sea twisted through deep valleys of yellow-brown jagged rock and sand dunes. At times, large rocky mountains shadow the horizon, other times it is dead flat. A sparse, endless desert, spotted occasionly with lone dry looking trees. The harsh sun beating down relentlessly upon the arid land. This is how I imagined the middle eastern desert to be. Like the Australian centre, I wonder how people can live in this harsh area. As we drove through, we passed little villages spotting the landscape with their humble white concrete houses relflecting the intense sun.

The Dead Sea is large, a welcoming deep cool blue to the stark desert. We drove to a little beach set up for enthused tourists to enjoy a 'healing' float in the salty water. A low hot haze prevented us from seeing the horizon, where Jerusalem is situated (apparently seen on clear days). The water was very boyant due to the large amounts of salt, and after a while started to sting a bit. But I enjoyed my 'float' and had the famous photo taken with the newspaper!On our way to Petra, we stopped off at Mount Nebo - apparently the mountain Moses climbed to die. It was a taste of what was to come later at St Katherines and Mount Sinai - overzealous and religiously enthused Russian orthodox and Brazillians scrambling to get their picture taken next to 'sacred' rocks and bushes.

Petra was incredible. I had no idea what I was seeing before going there, and was blown away! Immense and impacting! The scenery is wonderful, and I discovered some amazing breath-taking views. Surrounded by rocky mountains, Petra is an anicent city, with massive tombs and temples carved into the mountains. There is a deep expansive canyon formed by the splitting of the earth, narrow, twisting and turning, as we walked along the valley floor.

I totally exhausted myself, wondering around in the sun, scrambling up mountains for almost 8 hours straight. I think I covered about 25kms. A special moment, was after climbing a mountain, finding a 'Bedouin' guy (like a 'squatter') on the top welcoming me into his cave to share a cup of tea. A welcome relief from the intense sun and exhaustion from the climb. I explored all of Petra till sunset, and stumbled back to the hotel afterwards almost fainting from the strenuous day. I think I did suffer a bit of heat exhaustion, as the next few days I was not well! We headed further into the Jordan desert to a place called Wadi Rum. A dramatic landscape once again, as large rocky mountains rise straight up out of the red-orange sand. Rippled sand dunes reflect the heat of the sun, rich in colour, an artists delight at sunset! We rode in a jeep across the plains, the heat of the sun pounding down upon us, taking in the sights in wonder. We had a typical ‘Bedouin’ camp set up for us that evening, greeted with Bedouin tea and a delicious dinner roasting in a stove set in the ground. We all slept on a large mat with thin but comfortable mattresses. Sleeping under the northern hemisphere stars in the silence of the desert was an unforgettable experience!

Middle East! Syrian adventures

The city of Aleppo, Syria was nothing like I’ve experienced before. It was one of those rare moments after much travel, when you come across something that you cant really compare to anything else you’ve seen before. Arabic writing was everywhere, adding to the excited alien feeling I had. The buildings were all the same ‘desert-brown’ colour, stark against the deep blue sky. There was a great view of the sprawling city from the Citadel ruins.
One of my highlights of Aleppo was being part of the action in the souq (Market-place). Most amusing is watching mini trucks that try to fit into the confined spaces of the narrow and enclosed souq lanes. We came across one intersection that was a mayhem of mini trucks all descending upon each other, drivers leaning out the windows shouting, stubbornly waving their fists, honking their horns, while pedestrians squeezed into any space available. Adding to the mix were the odd donkey, carts with huge loads spilling out the sides, and men balancing boxes, food, clothing, bags on their heads. There were a few amused looks shared as we all watched how these trucks would maneuver their way out of the squashed predicament!

Damascus was an interesting city with it's Islamic and Christian history. I was again drawn to the action of the souq, but also enjoyed getting lost in the back streets of the city. There, away from the noise of traffic and bustling markets, was a little insight into the lives of the residents.

Our group disbanded in Amman, which was very sad, as we had all bonded after the 2 weeks of travel together. Half of the group was leaving us, and we had 7 others joining us for the last 10 days in the desert to Cairo.

home stay in a remote village, Turkey

An early breakfast back at the hostel, and on the bus again for another long trip including a cargo ferry trip across the Euphrates. Our destination was a tiny village near Sanliurfa, to stay overnight in a family’s home - for an authentic peek into the lives of a ‘Turkish’ family. The family were beautiful, welcoming, eager to please and delightful! The experience is as much great for them as it is for us - as it gives their children a chance to practice their English and opens their minds to the wider world. It also widens our own minds - as we discover and change our perceptions of middle eastern way of life. A typical family home has 2 main rooms - one room for the whole family to sleep in, and the other for eating and for guests to sleep in. There is a small kitchen and an outdoor roof top space that they sleep on during the
summer months. Next to their humble house, was a couple of stables with a few cows and some goats. They also own chickens that run free around their yard. It is the womans job to milk the goats, cook, clean and wash clothes. The girls of our group had a go at milking a goat - not as easy as it looks! Especially with a baby goat trying to head-butt us out of the way for some dinner! We also watched Pera make flat bread - quite impressive was the speed and the ease in which she made it. All the food they eat is home grown and home made. We had a feast for breakfast and dinner! To eat, we would sit in the dining /guest room on the carpeted floor around a plastic table-cloth mat. The food would be spread out before us, and we'd eat with our hands.

The family kindly gave up their room so that we could use two rooms to sleep in. It was squishy, but fun.

I made friends with their 9 year old daughter - Aylin. She was a bit shy at first, but warmed up quickly when we found some common ground in clapping games. She recited songs in Turkish while I tried to keep up with her clapping patterns. Quite a few laughs at times when I obviously had no idea! I was her playmate for most the evening then! Her two older brothers aged 16 and 17 were keen to engage in conversation with the rest of us with their broken English. They had such beautiful smiles and open honest faces, and were very respectful and loving towards their parents. It was refreshing to spend time with such a warm loving family!

Toilet paper was often a topic of interest during our travels. In the middle-east, and parts of Turkey people don’t generally use toilet paper - which we found interesting. (It is funny how we are brought up with a certain way of doing things we consider completely normal, assuming everyone else in the world does the same and then to discover they don’t and we each believe each-others way is a bit weird!) Because of this, their sewerage system doesn’t handle toilet paper all that well, and so we were constantly reminded by Jess that our used toilet paper needed to be discarded into either a waste bucket in the cubicle or just on the floor near the toilet. To break the habit of ‘wipe and drop’ ingrained in us was really hard! It became ‘wipe, think, look around for the bucket, drop carefully so as not to offend the next person…’. Most of us agreed that using the squats actually made things much easier than the normal western toilet.

mysterious stone heads in the mist

Another long bus ride to a mountain hostel in Nemrut Dagi. The weather started turning on us, and it wasn’t looking good for the planned early start the next morning to watch the sunrise from the mountain top with the ancient stone heads. It was freezing when we arrived, and we discovered that our cute little hostel was not really equipped for cold weather with no hot water, and heaters and air-conditioning that didn’t work. We all survived the cold night, and were woken up at 4am for the walk up the mountain to see the sunrise. It was snowing and very windy as we departed the hostel, not the best conditions to be trekking up a steep mountain side. We huddled into a café at the base of the mountain, waiting for the weather to give us a pocket of relief. Wind, snow, sleet, rain and even hail! We were all keen, much to Jess’ dismay - she thought we were all mad. There was a low mist, and no visibility, however we didn’t want to come all this way and not see these mysterious stone heads. Our Turkish driver was with us, and braved the extreme conditions encouraging us to follow. We ventured out when the rain let up. We trekked slowly up the moutain, steep, slippery shale underfoot, and the wind howling around us. It didn’t take long to reach the top. Standing silently in the mist were the mysterious large staring stone heads and the tomb of King Antiochus. The low cloud and dark dawn created a very eerie atmosphere. No sunrise, however it was still incredible to see. Jess stood there wrapped in a blanket cursing the group as we took photos and absorbed what we were seeing. When it began hailing with small ice flying into our faces at high speeds very uncomfortably, we decided we’d better descend. Surprisingly, we passed more crazy tourists as we descended!

9 hours on a small bus to Goreme, Capadocia. Goreme is a little town set in the most weird and fascinating landscape! Formed by volcanic action and erosion, the landscape is full of tall spire-like rocks (looking quite phallic!) in a large canyon area. People settled here and turned some of the bigger spires into dwellings. This is actually where our leader - Jess - currently lives (originally from NZ).

I awoke early in the morning to catch the sunrise over the town and rocks. The sky was overcast, but I was optimistically hopeful the sun might peer out. I climbed up over some ruins onto a roof top and was greeted with an amazing view made more exciting with hot air balloons floating low amongst the tall mystical spires. Everything was silent except for the hot air blast in the balloons. It was magical. Then, as I watched, the sun suddenly pierced through the clouds spotlighting the balloons, the town and the surreal landscape. Breathtaking! I was ecstatic!
After a walk through the valley of these surreal rock formations, we headed to an ancient Christian city all carved out of the rock. There were small cathedrals, with old fading frescoes, tombs, rooms with long
dining tables, kitchen areas and even a wine-making cave. Later, we went to an immense underground cave city that was used by the Christians when hiding from attackers. Small, low, claustrophobic tunnels that lead deep below the earth’s surface into large caves that were used for sleeping, eating, worship and teaching. About 2000 people would stay here for a period of 2 weeks. Hard to imagine how people lived here! The air was damp and thick at times, the tunnels were tight and I’d imagine were quite dark without the electricity we had down there.

We’ve been eating some great local food. A Turkish breakfast consists of loads of bread, tomato, cucumber, olives, yoghurt, fruit, eggs and cheese. They love their tea. Lunch and dinner would be a doner or shish kebab, Turkish pizza - flat pizza with meat and eggs was a favourite, ‘meze’ - a mix of dip appertisers, lentil or tomato soup and always more bread! Fresh fruit and tea for desert or the delicious baklava! I’ve discovered a new fruit called ‘percimum’ - or something like that. It looks like a tomato, and to hold it is really squishy. It bursts in your mouth with a weird sloppy texture that some people don’t really like. It’s wonderful! I’ve also had pomegrant - which I’ve never tried before either. Another interesting fruit - but I prefer the percimum.

The famous Turkish Bath

HAMMAM - Turkish bath
Louise, Sarah, Byron, Tim, James and I had arranged to meet up at 5 to go to the local Hammam (a Turkish Bath). I wasn’t completely sold on the idea as bathing and massages and communal scrubs weren’t really my idea of fun, and watching the sunset seemed much more exciting. However, as the others said, a Turkish Bath is one of those ‘must have’ experiences, and Tim had assured me that it’d be a
a bit of hot water and a casual arm scrub and that was about all. Some of the other ladies of our group had been to a bath the previous night in and had raved about the experience. Our experience turned out to be completely different!
On arrival, we were shown to change rooms where we striped down to just underwear, and handed a (very) small line towel to wrap around. We had expected - from the other ladies’ experience - to have segregated male / female bathing areas. However, we discovered this wasn’t the case. We were all directed into a hot room lined with benches and taps over wash basins. Apart from one other man, we were the only people in the hammam. It dawned on us all that we were in this together. Just like the high school days, the boys placed themselves on one side of the room, and the girls and I on the other. We all felt a bit uneasy and just a little ‘exposed’ in our tiny towels! We giggled and the boys laughed and Tim carried on with his dry sense of humour about ‘flossing’ in undesirable areas. I think we were all just a bit scared of what would happen next! The poor lone man that we had railroaded upon just sat there quietly, observing our antics with disdain. A staff member then came in to deal with us. He was an older man, and I think he picked up that we were first-timers. He pointed to us girls, and made us sit near the basins. He then filled up bowels of water and poured them on us from over our heads until we were thoroughly saturated, and then directed us to lie on a large slab of heated marble in the middle of the room. He then exited the room. We lay for a long while, beginning to roast. The boys poured water on themselves. The old bearded man returned, this time with a cheeky gleam in his eyes. He walked over to the taps, filled a bowl with cold water and much to our mirth, threw the water over his cooking victims. We squealed and writhed about on the hot marble, providing great entertainment for the boys who watched the whole scene, laughing at our expense! More and more water, more squeals and laughter. Eventually the cheeky old man stopped and had us leave our torture table to follow him into another room. We left the boys still laughing at the show. The room we entered had 2 massage tables, and another old man joined us. Louise and Sarah climbed onto the tables, and I sat and watched, awaiting my turn. I must say, at this point, we were expecting
women to be handling this next stage. Jess had assured us that if it were men, they are ’professional’ and see us just as ’meat’. I could see this was the case, however it didn’t make us feel that much more comfortable. Anyhow, the girls were scrubbed down head to toe with lint-like mittens peeling off layers of skin. After being rinsed, they were then soaped up with a huge bag of bubbly soap. Accompanying the soaping was some intense massaging. Meanwhile, the boys in the other room sat, roasting, their eyes transfixed on the door to our room. Erupting from the door were big loud slaps, groans and squeals of pain, water splashing and hysterical laughter. I watched on consoling the girls in sympathy, knowing that my turn was to come soon.
Our ordeal lasted about 30 minutes. It did feel weird to be scrubbed and washed like a child again! We came out feeling strangely high, relaxed and sleepy, very dehydrated and just a bit traumatized!. But we were all glad to have experienced the famous traditional Turkish bath.

Greek Ruins, and the gorgeous mediterranean sea.

A 5 hour slightly cramped bus trip was rewarded with a gorgeous little coast town called Fethiye. The coast was beautiful, as were the surrounding mountains. The morning after arriving, half of us set off at 8am for a solid day hike up into the mountains taking us up into the ruins of an ancient abandoned Greek city and down into the deliciously inviting sea. The scenery was magnificent! It felt exhilarating to be hiking in such wonderful landscape. We had incredible views of the Mediterranean sea from mountain tops - looking down into the deep turquoise, textural sea splashing against the cliffs and sparkling in the sun. The mountains descended sharply right into the sea, and we winded our way down with this constant breath-taking view heading towards an inviting green-blue lagoon and beach. We arrived famished, hot but exhilarated, ready to rest our weary legs and eat something substantial. After lunch and a taste of Turkish beer, a few headed down to swim in the pebble-beach. I followed down, regretting that I’d rather stupidly forgotten to bring my swimmers. Rolling up my pants, I waded in to my knees watching the others enjoying the blissful warm and totally clear water. I couldn’t resist, and with little encouragement from my fellow travellers, I jumped in fully-clothed. There was no way I was going to be so close to the Mediterranean, and never get in it! Deliciously warm and very boyant because of the salt, I felt revitalized after the long hike!
Thankfully I’d worn ‘quick-drying’ clothes, so they were semi-dry by the time we caught the bus home.

Charm

We took a little afternoon trip up to a small ancient Greek village out in the country. The village was situated right in the steep hills, quaint, charming and picturesque. Its main produce is wine and olives, so wine tasting was on the menu! We tried a large selection of fruit wines - Blueberry, Strawberry, Quince, blackberry and even Kiwi-fruit! The village people were beautiful, however tainted a bit by ‘tourism’, taking whatever chance they had to sell something! I was walking through the little back lane ways with a couple from our group - Kristin and Bob, excited by the building decay, peeling paint, cobbled alleys, old wooden doors falling off hinges, and the view of the surrounding hills. We all had our cameras out. A little old lady spotted us and called out to us ’photo’ with a ’come follow me’ gesture. We resisted following, not really sure about her ‘intentions’. However, she persisted with such eagerness that we decided to follow her. She lead us up to her very humble abode with a tiny stable next door and a donkey braying inside it. She stepped into her tiny house, inviting us to come in and indicating we could take a photo inside. We felt a little awkward, however she was very insistent, so we removed our shoes, entered the room and sat on cushions on the floor. It was a tiny kitchen with the huge stove taking up most the room. Our little old host offered us grapes, and then put the kettle on for tea. She had a gorgeously
weathered face with a crooked grin and bright eyes that had seen many years. After handing us our tea, she then pulled out lace shawls with the intention of selling. We felt ’snagged’… as Jess had mentioned this happens quite a lot. We admired her lace, and politely refused, attempting to divert her sudden saleswoman tactics back to some sort of conversation. (Slightly difficult when we our Turkish was limited to hello and thank you!). With the help of a Turkish dictionary, we discovered she had 2 kids (adults) and had lived there all her life. Kristin and Bob showed her photos of their children, and I showed a photo of my family. She was interested for a little while, but then eagerly picked up her shawls again. We refused again, but didn’t want to take her hospitality for granted. We ended up ‘buying’ a little woolen-made cat.
It is amazing how quickly the Turks transition from heart-warming hospitality to the ‘wanting to get something out of you‘! I find it unfortunately taints the experience of ‘culture sharing’ as you are always expecting this ulterior motive! I suppose we are an opportunity for them to gain a bit more.
Apart from the hard-sell, we all found the whole experience uniquely special.

The Ruins of Ephesus

I find it incredible to be standing and walking in a city that existed centuries ago. I was awestruck by the size of the ancient city of Ephesus, the Roman opulence, magnificence, eye for beauty in their architecture, and their sophistication - amazed that so much of the ruins are still standing. It would have been a beautiful city in its day - set on the sea (which had since receded) hugged by gorgeous rolling hills and mountains in the distance, with the great marble buildings shining white against the blue sky. With the amount of tourists there, it actually helped in imagining all the people, the noises, the colours, the activity and buzz of the busy city.
Rich in history, Ephesus was a major merchant/trading city of the Roman empire, however it dates back further than the Roman times to the ancient Greeks. It also holds significance in Christian history - one of the earliest Christian churches began here and the apostle Paul visited Ephesus on a few occasions. We had an exciting history lesson in the ancient city by an older Turkish man. He shared his knowledge with great passion, loads of personality and a wicked sense of humour. He would gather us all in close to whisper some secret historical fact (that ‘no other guide would tell you’). These ‘secrets’ were often insights into the somewhat risqué Roman culture, but it was the comical way in which he revealed them to us that was most entertaining! At one point, we sat down on ancient toilets - a row of holes carved out of a long bench made out of marble. Our guide showed us what our left hand would be doing… and assured us that these ancient people had adequate privacy with their long togas.