Towards the Axis of Evil
 The Cats of Alexandria The Cats of Alexandria The bus ride was long. Very long. Though not as long as Cairo I might add. The journey to Alexandria cost a mere 35 Egyptian pounds, around £4 and is a distance of around 600km across the desert to Matruh then across the Mediterranean coast to El Alamein and Alexandria. Leaving at 2230 (30 minutes late) I conveniently managed to sleep almost the whole way, only awakening at the “service stations” where I would munch strange chocolate bars such as Moody and Rocky. The toilets, being squats of course, cost 25 piastres. I still resent having to pay for the toilet as much as I do in Europe. Damn this money making scheme. The guy sat next to me was from the Sinai and was visiting his family in Siwa, at least this is what I understood from his broken English. We approached Alexandria at sunrise, the reflection of the sun on the lake was almost blinding as the mist hung low. The highway past the airport was like that of any other major city, lined with rubbish and industrial bbuildings plastered ith huge advertising billboards. I was unsure what to expect when we finally stopped. I knew the station was out of town as Penny had told me a taxi to downtown was approximately 15LE. I stepped off the bus around 0630 ish into a huge pile of mud, rubbish and stinking water. “For God’s sake” I muttered. A taxi was not hard to find, and this elderly gentlemen told me it would be just 15LE, a fair price and he brought me a coffee too. Egyptian hospitality is so amazing, I would like to see a cabby in London do this?! The journey into the town centre was uneventful, aside from the tremendous speed we were going at, a blur of yellow and black to the onlooker. Taking me directly to the immigration office, which needed a lot of broken English, Arabic and French to work out. Arriving early I thought I would wait for it to open by finding a hotel as I hadn’t reserved anything in advance. I asked the security guy what time the place opened for Visa renewals. “Its closed today, my friend. It’s friday!” The security guy joked that I had forgotten that Friday was Islamic holy day, like our Sunday. Damn I thought. “See you tomorrow then!” I bid him “Masalama” and went on my way to find a hotel. This was not a great start and thought that finding a hotel room would be just as bad luck. I found a small hotel on the Corniche, well side street to the Corniche (sea front) for just 20LE a night for a single bedroom without a bathroom but with sea view and balcony. Please remember this is about £2.50 in England, thats how cheap Egypt is! Shattered from a long journey I crashed and slept for several hours. I soon found out why the room was just £2.50 as the mattress was as thick as a piece of corrugated cardboard that had been trampled by a herd of elephants. I didn’t care, at least I got two pillows. Waking up at around noon, I showered and thought to myself lets check this city out. Lonely Planet calls it “the greatest ancient city, with the least to show for it.” A very fair assumption. Despite being founded by Alexander the Great and capital city of Egypt from Ptolemy to Cleopatra until the Romans arrived, the vast majority of monuments date from the Roman and Christian periods. Where once stood one of the 7 wonders of the world, the Pharos of Alexandria, now stands an arabic fortress where nothing more than a small sign to explain what had been there before. The Corniche is an avenue that runs down the coastline for around 25km and is lined with the hotels and most expensive bars and sheesha cafes. Microbuses whizz past up and down dropping people off where they need to be. Such a good idea! The beach is almost noon existant with the exception towards the easterly end near the expensive hotels. I took a stroll from my hotel to the Citadel. Cats and Kittens scattered the streets all very well fed, presumably stealing from all the fishermen which had gathered in the harbour to sell their catches. Their boats upturned after a day of fishing had finished. About a 45 minute walk, though my phone and ipod were dead by this point so time ceased to become useful. The buildings overlooking the sea were a mixture of run down apartments that look like something out of Beirut and some glorious Italian palazzi. In fact the city had such a European feel, it made me feel so much closer to home it quelled that feeling of homesickness which had been brewing a couple of days before. The bustling streets, the people, the atmosphere was so western it was a nice relief from the quiet, culture shock of Siwa. Nothing of historical significance with the exception of the Citadel is on the sea front. The Ptolemaic city lies at the bottom of the harbour, Cleopatra’s palace and royal city is sunken and can be accessed through a dive school located on the Corniche. Around $90 I heard, thats for a day course though. As it was Friday, everything was closed. The wrong day to arrive methinks. Though I didn’t learn this in Turkey or Siwa either. I arrived at the square in front of the Citadel, a market was set up. Aimed at tourists it sold tacky things such as Nefertiti busts and Tutankhamun glass sculptures with the occasional blowfish or coral for bad taste. Walking back I found the Abu Abbas Mosque with its decadently decorated domes and huge doorways. A homeless person tried to sell me some tissues as I stopped to take some pictures. Walking the back streets back the other direction the alleyways were decorated with the bunting from Eid or Ramadan, glitter flooded the drains. The smells of food made me so hungry so I stopped for some lamb mince sandwich type thing, was delicious. This was followed by Sheesha and Shay (tea). Refreshed I headed down to the Montazh gardens the other end of the city to relax and chill and read a book Penny had leant me, “A House in Fez.” Mine and Paul’s favourite city. I needed to plan my next day carefully as I had no idea how long this Visa application would take and how much time I would have to relax. I decided to visit the Library en route to the Montazah palace. The world’s first library and Museum was built here in Alexandria by Ptolemy II and containted the ancient worlds greatest pieces of literature; well until Julius Caesar and Augustus arrived and burnt the thing down. The modern Bibliotheque is an amazing piece of modern architecture. The curved glass complements the steel wonderfully and the spherical planetarium makes this site such a fantastic building for culture. The centre of the complex lies a bust of Alexander. Unfortunately just as I went to take some pictures my camera packed up and wouldnt work, turning itself on and off retardly! I was so angry, but this had happened to me before notably in Venice in the summer at the Toga party. Hoping it would turn on again and hoping it wasn’t clogged with sand I carried onto the Gardens. The Palace itself is about 100 years old, so not ancient by any means and is now owned by the hideously corrupt President Mubarak, I will get to him another time don’t worry, although the gardens are available to any one who wants to pay the 6LE to get in. Palm trees, shade (most importantly, as it was so humid!) as well as small pavillions, streams and flower gardens made it a really nice place to relax, read and update my journal. I spent quite some time there, documenting my adventures and reading my book. Oh and my camera decided to start working! The pile of crap. After maybe two hours I returned towards the Corniche, missing my hotel in the Microbus and arriving at the tomb of the Unknown soldier. I stopped for some more Sheesha and water on the sea front. It was so relaxing to just sit back and take in the sea breeze. Well it was for the time being as I was unaware that the water was tap water. Problem. Well not just yet it wasn’t. I got an early night as I was still tired from the journey, I looked through my camera and decided I needed to go to the library again tomorrow as well as the catacombs and Pompey pillar as well as sort my visa and find a us ticket. I woke up late! How I don’t know! I had slept so much in the space of 24 hours. My stomach felt especially dodgy, though at this moment it was a mere rumbling. Mistaken for breakfast hunger so I went downstairs for a breakfast of tea, soup and bread. There I met an Egyptian guy from Cairo who was staying in the hotel next door whilst waiting to find digs for his studies at Alexandria University. Practicing my arabic I introduced myself and he replied, “My name is Mahmoud.” This is the extent my arabic went so we reverted back into english. I explained I needed to head to the Visa office and tciket office to buy a ticket for the night bus back to Siwa. He offered me the change to show me around some of the sites of Alexandria once he had been to his faculty office and I had sorted out my Visa out. We said goodbye and I said I would meet him at the hotel later maybe (mumkin in arabic) if I had time. I got my ticket for the 2200 direct to Siwa for just 33LE. This took about 5 mins and was just around the corner from the hotel. I then went to the Visa office which was an experience in itself. “Hi!” The security guard shouted. Going upstairs I was ushered from one desk to the next with no one speaking english. The application needed 11LE, a passport photo (of which I look so pale though so blonde!) and a photocopy of your passport which you need to do before entering the building. Weird. Eventually this debacle was sorted and finally got my Visa, an extra 3 months- although I only need 5 weeks before I come home. Leaving that madness I headed to a KFC, I had been craving one since I had seen an advert at Ahmed’s for a delicious sandwich. This KFC was special though as it ws run 100% by those hard of hearing. Such a great idea, why doesnt England do this I thought, then remembering the ridiculous amount of political correctness and shit, it would never work for fear of discriminating. The meal was not great though, not used to it now. My stomach certainly disagreed with it! All done and an afternoon to kill I text Mahmoud to see if he wanted to go to the library and the Catacombs so I could take a picture. He met me on teh Corniche after he had phoned his friends who worked at the Chatby catacombs. It wasnt until I realised later that they were the smaller tombs that were in the city, but it was free and met some very nice ladies in the ticket office. They were partially submerged, though Alexandria had just had a 3 day storm that had battered the city so wether this was just remnants of this, it is possible. Mahmoud showed me to the library only to show his university off to me. Obviously it was not as good as Birmingham, though it was nice to see so many young people, especially the girls who didn’t need to cover up like they do in Siwa. The library is also next door and I took my pictures of what I had missed yesterday. I then said I wanted to get my photos from the palace and gardens, so we went back there where we encountered a person trying to dump their cat in the garden. Basically it had shagged their other cat and had got it pregnant so they were getting rid of it. Though it was not a street cat, a big fluffy puffy Persian cat wouldn’t last 5 minutes on the street. This reminded me of Disney’s The Aristocats. They were trying to walk away but Mucho the Cat wouldnt leave them alone. It was horrible and it reminded me just how dofferent this city was even if it did have a European appearance. Shortly after this, embarrassingly my stomach made a huge wretch and I vommed in a bush! I felt such a tramp, as memories of a similar experience when at the Topkapi palace with Bev in Istanbul this summer. Ashamedly I put my scarf around my face. Mahmoud looked concerned but I explained that it was either a result of the humidity, water or KFC. At least I could laugh about it, although I was most concerned that I would get caught short on the bus back to Siwa. I decided to bid Mahmoud farewell as I needed to grab some tea, pick up my bag and brush my teeth before having to head to the bus station. Alexandria was nice to get away from the conservative nature of Siwa and chill in a city. There is still so much to see and do, that I will make the jpurney again though probably after Christmas when I needed to renew my visa again! I love Alex, a cosmopolitan feel and a certain degree of freedom that is ignored my western impressions of the Arabic world.
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Diary Photos
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Corniche |
 War Memorial |
 Cat on Corniche |
 The Harbour |
 Mahmoud at Chatby Tombs |
 Alexander the Great |
 Library Plaza |
 Me and Susie |
 Shali |
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