Situated on the outskirts of Cairo, the Giza Necropolis is a complex of ancient monuments that most notably includes the three pyramid complexes known as the Great Pyramids, and the large sandstone sculpture (the largest monolith statue in the world) known as the Great Sphinx.

I was particularly fond of the Pyramid of Khafre, which still boasts some of the limestone casing that once covered the entire pyramid.

The Pyramids of Khafre and Khufu

Egyptian Local Sleeping at the Foot of the Pyramid of Menkaure

Egyptian on Camel at the Base of the Pyramid of Khafre

Apex of the Pyramid of Khafre

Two Egyptians on Camel Before the Great Pyramid of Giza

Camel and Tourists at the Base of the Pyramid of Khafre

Looking Up at the Pyramid of Khafre

Giza Necropolis Panorama

Pyramid of Menkaure Panorama

Pyramid of Khafre Apex

Soliciting Egyptian Camel Ride Tout and the Pyramid of Khafre

Great Sphinx of Giza

Giza Necropolis Panorama with Pyramids and Sphinx

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I'm sure you've noticed, but the travelogue isn't as current as it should be. Please be patient as I attempt to properly juggle child raising, CouchSurfing and travel at the same time. Maybe just ignore the date and pretend it's today... or if you're craving more current updates, try giving my enhanced Twitter RSS feed a peek.

My Current Location: I've been in Margate (FL), USA for the past 239 days.

We've been in greater Cairo for less than 30 hours and I already feel like driving to the airport and getting on the first flight out of the Middle East.

I've decided I'm going to publicly share (below) the e-mail I just sent to my father on the state of things here in Giza.

An E-mail to Dad…

Hi from Giza!

The family and I made the big push from the Red Sea coast yesterday, completing the final leg of the journey with one of the city's most inept taxi drivers (quite possibly taking my #1 spots for both dumbest and least sober driver to date).

Princess, Tatiana's friend, has recently renovated the flat we're staying in (it's very lovely), but I'm anxious to get out of here. She's currently in Florida, due to return in about two weeks for her marriage to an Egyptian.

That belly dance festival that Tatiana attended back in 2007 before flying to Manila to meet up with me is being held (again, annually) this month, starting up on the 27th. Princess is an organizer for the event, and I believe we'll be making an effort to be in town for it.

I'm passing the reins over to Tatiana for this country—she'll be the researcher and decider of what sights the family will be seeing on our travels along the Nile.

Getting back to Cairo…

The streets here are uncomfortable: loud, polluted, dirty, foul-smelling, hot, and dangerous (vehicular). The sensations are only amplified for us after the past two (quiet) weeks along the coast.

Our indoor life plagued with water outages (we can't seem to get more than two or three hours of running water per day); an inability to cook (this is a huge problem, as there's apparently no propane for the stove, no water most of the time, and certainly no way to prepare proper meals for Aidric); no Internet access in the apartment; and ants plus the occasional cockroach the size of a small cat living alongside us. There apartment was left with far too many perishable foodstuffs just lying out to rot, and that has attracted plenty of unwanted company.

Now this isn't to say that I'm not overwhelming grateful to be in this Giza apartment (complete with an awesome view of the city's famous pyramids, privacy, screens on the windows, Bath & Body Works lotions for Tatiana, and air conditioning in the bedroom)—lord only knows how miserable the experience could be in the budget accommodation in town—but idling and spending cash simply for the sake of sitting in a room with A/C and occasionally looking out the window for the view doesn't make me want to stay.

This city is just flat out gross—a giant sprawling favela of epic proportions, full of nosey, in-your-face people. We're constantly getting bombarded by locals sparking up conversation with us to try and separate us from our cash, although it's probably just because of our proximity to the pyramids.

It's beyond me why anyone with a choice—particularly with as many as a multi-national citizen such as Tatiana's friend—would wiling choose to make greater Cairo their home. Yuck.

Given the vehicular traffic (that forces us carry Aidric around because of the danger), horrid pollution, stifling heat, annoying Arabs, and lack of anything nearby to eat (or resources to cook for ourselves), I'm left grasping for reasons to be here. This is the kind of place that makes me want to dress in a full-blown burqa (posing as a woman) just to walk down the street unnoticed.

I've haven't broken a Wi-Fi signal in a while, but found myself on the roof of this six-story apartment building today in the afternoon heat doing just as much. A strong password but weak encryption protocol has allowed me to send this off to you this evening. Sadly, we don't get anything usable inside the apartment. As a result, I'm unsure of the frequency that I'll be online—certainly evenings only.

Given my displeasure with the (absent) water and street life situation, I imagine we'll be moving along soon—leaving some excess gear/garb here and returning to Giza in time for the festival. By this time next month the festival should be wrapping up and we'll be getting ready to head to Thailand for the rainy season (where we'll wait until the weather clears to fly to India, then back to Florida before Aidric turns two).

An Apartment Patio in Giza with a Wall of Bricks

Aidric with an Egyptian Girl: I had to walk some distance to find a small market to buy supplies. On this trip I brought the baby, and of course he was a big hit (as he always is).

Boiling Eggs in a Glass Pitcher: I was forced to boil our eggs with my immersion heater because there was no propane for cooking in the apartment.

Donkey Pulling Trash-Scavenging Cart

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I'm sure you've noticed, but the travelogue isn't as current as it should be. Please be patient as I attempt to properly juggle child raising, CouchSurfing and travel at the same time. Maybe just ignore the date and pretend it's today... or if you're craving more current updates, try giving my enhanced Twitter RSS feed a peek.

My Current Location: I've been in Margate (FL), USA for the past 239 days.

The long drive by highway had turned into a dirt detour and congested gridlock after passing over the Nile. Tatiana and the baby were in the front seat, with me squeezed into the back with the bags (nearly piled to the roof).

Our windows were rolled down as the sun's mid-summer heat painfully poured into vehicle. Dust and particulates of pollution clung to our sweat-soaked bodies. I passed a bottle of water forward to Tatiana so she could have a drink and refill Aidric's cup.

Ugh… the heat. Ugh… Cairo.

It was around 6:00 p.m. and we'd already been in the car for a good 45 minutes.

"Humm," I thought to myself, "the 30 pounds was certainly worth the money for this distance/duration."

We had no idea from where in the city we started, and only Tatiana possessed a vague cursory memory of our destination's placement in Giza from her time here two years ago.

Giza Arrival

The East Delta bus terminal to our Giza apartment, as shown in a perfect world. [map]

Discomfort from the heat aside, things had generally been going fine up until the point where we reached a large roundabout in Giza.

I'd already caught my first glimpse of the pyramids and Tatiana had quickly identified a large hotel (Le Meridien Pyramids) in the area as one she'd seen in close proximity to Princess' apartment—our destination with A/C salvation.

…But our optimism started to turn to frustration as it became painfully obvious that our driver had no idea where to go. Yes, he knew the general target area, but certainly not the specifics.

Drive, Stop. Drive, Stop. Drive, Stop… Forever Circling…

Tatiana and I kept exchanging looks at each other through the car's side-view mirror. What had started out as some innocent Q&A about the address with folks he'd shouted out to on the street had escalated into a real problem.

He'd repeatedly holler out the same question to the locals, and within the span of 40 feet he'd get three different directions! One guy would point this way, another points another, while a small cluster would point back another way!

Driving around this area in circles…

Almost as frustrating as the unproductive stops for clarification was Tatiana's inability to identify where we needed to go. Although she spent much of her weeks here indoors, she'd been in this place before and we really needed her to dig deep and remember where her friend's apartment was located.

We'd been circling the same area for at least half an hour now, baking in the vehicle and car exhaust. The more I thought about it the angrier I was getting.

But who deserved my rage?

Was it the incompetence of Princess' fiancée? Did he not give a proper address or instructions over the phone?

Was it the guy who wrote down the address like a three-year-old with Parkinson's?

Or was this taxi driver simply a complete idiot who didn't understand what was written in front of him? (Tatiana later told me that he reeked of alcohol.)

…Eventually I dug into my pocket and handed Tatiana Shalaby's phone number.

"He needs to call him to get this sorted out," I insisted.

The Second Phone Call

Tatiana held the number in her palm as the driver pulled the car over keyed his mobile. He spoke briefly after connecting, and then handed the phone over to Tatiana.

The speaker on the phone was turned all the way up, and I could sort of make out part of the badly distorted conversation. Tatiana did most of the speaking, explaining our proximity to the Le Meridien hotel.

She could barely make out what he was saying, so with me pressuring from the backseat she ended up just handing the phone back to driver so he could get the directions necessary in Arabic.

As the conversation came to an end I picked up on the sound of approaching helicopters.

Suddenly, a familiar sight noisily appeared—so loud and so low to the ground we practically felt the blast of air from the rotor blades it passed overhead. It was President Obama abroad Marine One, flanked in tight formation by two other choppers, flying directly towards the pyramids. He was in Cairo today, clearly taking in the sights.

A sweaty mess but again optimistic, the driver proceeded as if he knew where he was going… but as he started circling and circling again (in different part of the same area) our displeasure once again flared.

"I don't care what he's going to say about driving around for longer, this guy's not going to get a single cent more!" Tatiana exclaimed to me, as I nodded in agreement.

Not much later I pretty much reached my breaking point when the moron threw the car into reverse after missing a turn and starting backing up on a large one-way avenue. The guy couldn't even keep the vehicle going in the straight line as he went backed up a good 70 yards. And as he pulled out into the middle lane (still in reverse) to go around a parked van I called out for Tatiana to brace herself and the baby, as I thought we'd be getting rear-ended for sure.

That was it.

I wanted to speak with Shalaby myself. I needed to know if we dealing with one or two Egyptian fuckwits.

But the driver hummed and hawed about this, pointing to his phone indicating that he was out of credit. Eventually, he conceded and pulled over next to a minimart to buy more, leaving us in the vehicle.

It was 6:45 p.m.

We'd been running around Giza for the better part of an hour, and stuck in the cab for at least 90 minutes.

The Third Phone Call

Tatiana pulled out Shalaby's number and we watched and waited as the driver started to key it in again.

Hesitation…

Then, on the second digit, he screwed up.

"I don't think this guy even understands the phone number!" I exclaimed as he conceded the phone to Tatiana. She continued typing in the digits and connected the call, ending my rant and speculation.

A more successful conversation ensued this time around, and at precisely 7:00 p.m. we arrived in front of the apartment building (which was generally close to the area where we'd spent the last hour circling).

Hot, dirty and angry after our first two hours in Cairo we unloaded the bags and turned our backs on the moronic man, now certainly sober, who was demanding that he be compensated for the extra time.

More shouting ensued, followed by us simply walking into the building and away from the misery of his presence.

Following Tatiana's lead, we slowly climbed the flights of concrete stairs that led to the top floor, weighed down by the events of the very long, emotionally exhausting day. And discovering (not long after our arrival) that Shalaby had actually given the man more money just made us want to forget the afternoon all the more.

…But on the bright side of things, this place has got one helluva view:

Apartment View of the Great Pyramid of Giza

Our Bedroom in Princess' Apartment

Princess' Apartment Building (photo taken some days later)

The unit we're is on the top floor—the enclosed balcony centered in the image, extending right.

Postmortem

Questions, questions…

1. Was the address on the piece of paper accurate?

I never got a chance to have Shalaby take a look at the supposed address handed to the driver to confirm what it did or didn't say, but it's quite clear to me that there are no specific numbers contained within it.

I e-mailed a friend that's very proficient in Arabic and asked him if he could translate it, telling him no context other than that it should be an address. The gist of his response:

"Archery (?), Sra'ir of the Pyramids St."

Notes: No numbers are given. Not sure what archery is, maybe an area. Sra'ir is written sloppily; I can't quite make out what it is or means. Assuming this is from Egypt, my best guess is that this to a vague location near the Giza pyramids. Hope that helps.

2. Why is the address on the piece of paper not accurate?

The incompetence on the part of the Egyptian who wrote it is the most probable cause. The illegibility is clearly the fault of the penman. Shalaby comes off as being more intelligent than to give such a vague location. Then again, I don't know what was said between the two men, or if Shalaby even knows the proper address. Perhaps he can only describe its location by landmark.

3. Could the driver understand the non-Arabic telephone number you showed him?

Normally I write out things like this in Arabic, but as we'd not planned on having to call from within the taxi, it was not. The mobile phone the driver was using had the both styles of numbers on it, and he didn't give any sign that he didn't understand.

4. Was Shalaby consulted once or twice from within the taxi?

Just ONCE! This was confirmed when I asked Shalaby to show me his call log so that I could make a note of the times we called him. He showed he received a call from the bus station at 5:00 and another at 6:45, but none in between.

5. If you and the driver weren't talking to Shalaby in that conversation, who the hell did the he call?

It certainly wasn't a wrong number. The conversation was much too long. Likely the driver quickly gave up on the written phone number (or never even tried in the first place) and called up a friend of his for help instead. Tatiana wasn't familiar enough with Shalaby's voice to tell that it wasn't him.

This act puts the driver up there as probably one of the dumbest we've ever had, the world over.

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I'm sure you've noticed, but the travelogue isn't as current as it should be. Please be patient as I attempt to properly juggle child raising, CouchSurfing and travel at the same time. Maybe just ignore the date and pretend it's today... or if you're craving more current updates, try giving my enhanced Twitter RSS feed a peek.

My Current Location: I've been in Margate (FL), USA for the past 239 days.

It was just before 5 p.m. and Tatiana and were sizing up our options after having just disembarked into an unknown part of greater Cairo (previously: Nuweiba to Cairo by Bus).

We had the perfect trifecta of trouble before us: We didn't know where we were; we didn't have an address for our destination; and we didn't how much was appropriate for an unmetered taxi. —Lovely.

Note: If you're unfamiliarly as to why we were in this predicament, please give this a quick glance: Cairo Communication Conundrum.

The Phone Call to the Fiancée

The first thing to get sorted was where we were going. This required yet another phone call to Shalaby, the Egyptian fiancée of Tatiana's friend.

Still inside the protective barrier of the bus terminal, I minded the baby and the bags in a ticketing office while Tatiana made her way to find a phone inside a minimart a few dozen paces away. The idea was to get Shalaby on the phone, explain we still needed the address to the apartment, and to pass the phone off to a local for him to accurately write down in Arabic just where we needed to go (this would be for the taxi driver).

Tatiana ended up paying one Egyptian pound per minute for the call, and for reasons that I'm still unclear lasted some six minutes to complete (costing a total of about US$1).

As before, communication was a bit of a problem with the man, and Shalaby ended up giving us a lofty figure for the cost of a taxi (because the reality of it was that he truly had no idea what amount to tell us).

A scribbled address in Arabic: You'll soon learn more about the misery this little piece of paper caused.

My eyes focused in sharply on the Arab man following Tatiana as she exited the minimart. I gathered the baby and approached—apperantly he was the fellow that spoke with the fiancée and jotted down the address.

He offered to help with the taxi, and against our insistence started speaking with one of the wretches of humanity outside the terminal, pressed against the bars trying to solicit passengers for his parked cab.

Tip: Never approach or speak with an idling taxi driver. It's a waste of time. Walk as far as necessary to find one moving on the street, or even better, a cab that just dropped someone off. If you value your cash, sanity and belongings, avoid these men.

Of course the piraña taxi man jumped at the opportunity to try and pull a fast one on some foreigners (even in front of the local), and hollered back, "VERY FAR! 150 pounds!" (US$27)

As we blew him off with a laugh and started walking away—keep in mind that was the price of three nights' accommodation at Green Beach—his price dropped and dropped until we could hear him shouting for 50 pounds over our shoulders.

Naturally, we would never take a ride from such a person, even if the price was right. But the added bonus was that we now knew the maximum that we might have to pay, and ascertained that somewhere between 25 and 35 EGP would probably be an appropriate fare.

Taxis, Inept Police, a Hobo and Med Student—OH MY!

The passengers of our bus had long since dispersed, and with them the majority of the sharks waiting outside the terminal. We exited and pushed past the bevy and continued to walk 'till we were no longer being shouted at or pursued for cash.

Walking against the traffic in the stifling evening heat mixed with the horrid smells from decrepit vehicles, we stopped under an overpass and started flagging down cabs.

Bus station escape

It didn't take long for a real scrappy looking dark-skinned bum (Sudanese, perhaps) to spot us from across the street and to approach.

Over the next ten minutes a huge scene unfolded below the overpass. The filthy, perhaps mentally unstable man tried to flag down taxis on our behalf by screaming and jumping out in front of them. We, in turn, were screaming at the man to get the hell away from us and that we weren't going to give him any money for his 'assistance.'

All of this attracted the attention of a nearby female traffic cop and a sharp-looking twenty-something guy, who turned out to be a med student interning at a hospital across the street.

The medical student spoke with us in educated English, and agreed that 30 or 40 Egyptian pounds should be sufficient to reach our destination in Giza.

Meanwhile, the cop had taken over for the destitute wacko in flagging down taxis, but her presence was just about as damaging to the process as his (the drivers just weren't interested in negotiating with her around). Ultimately, she gave up and walked off, leaving us and the med student to deal with the somewhat calmer bum.

By now it had already been a good half an hour since we got off the East Delta bus.

Eventually our new friend successfully flagged down and negotiated a taxi for us—30 EGP (US$5.40)—and we gave him the OK to join us in the cramped vehicle for the short distance he needed to travel to get home. (He would later exit just a few miles away, handing the driver a 5 EGP note and us his phone number.)

As we were loading the taxi the bum approached, as if to grab a bag and 'help,' setting Tatiana off in a rage that I surely thought would come to blows (he just wouldn't back down). But I shoved her in the car, and we were off.

…And so began our drive with probably the stupidest driver in the whole of Cairo.

Continued: Egyptian Incompetence and an Asinine Taxi Driver - Part 2 of 2

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I'm sure you've noticed, but the travelogue isn't as current as it should be. Please be patient as I attempt to properly juggle child raising, CouchSurfing and travel at the same time. Maybe just ignore the date and pretend it's today... or if you're craving more current updates, try giving my enhanced Twitter RSS feed a peek.

My Current Location: I've been in Margate (FL), USA for the past 239 days.

We said our heartfelt goodbyes to Nasser al-Din and started our travel day off with yet another Sinai Bedouin who tried to guilt us into paying him more than was fair for a trip into central Nuweiba (that he was already en route to without us).

Note: It's always important to exit the transport and secure your bags before paying anyone. If/when there are difficulties, simply go your way.

Turning our backs and walking away from the hollering man the family and I entered the East Delta Bus Company's terminal in a display of indifference that only comes from years of dealing with the same nonsense the world over.

Our East Delta Bus idling during the stop for lunch.

Arriving at 8:15 in the morning we discovered we'd have to wait with the very small gathering of others (that slowly came sauntering in) to be issued tickets.

Eventually a portly Arab fellow with sleep still crusting the corners of his eyes meandered into his dusty booth and took our 120 EGP (US$21.50) for a pair of tickets to Cairo. As usual, children don't pay on transport such as this (as they can be placed on a lap if they're short on seats).

The worn bus departed the station at 9:10 and slowly labored through greater Nuweiba for ten minutes before hitting the highway and speeding north to Taba.

Taba and the Tourist Tax

Regional map showing Taba and Nuweiba

We arrived at the East Delta Bus station in Taba at 10:30 a.m. and began idling and adding a few more passengers into the mix.

I'd placed my family in the front row of the bus (as I typically do), as there's more legroom, closer proximity to the front axle (less bouncing around), a better view, and no one attempting to recline their chair into your chest. This typically only gets weird with a baby when you think about head-on collisions and the lack of seatbelts, or when you've actually got seatbelts and want to keep your toddler fastened up.

As I never stow my backpack out of sight, my bag and our baby supply bag occupied the legroom of the empty seat next to me. Across the aisle Tatiana sat with Aidric, who was taking turns at sitting next to the window and dozing on her lap. We happily occupied these four seats for the duration of the trip to Cairo.

I was particularly apprehensive as we began pulling out of Taba. I'd researched in advance about the special tax levied on travelers here (previously: Jordan to Egypt: Ferry versus Overland Travel), and also read about the recent problems encountered by Wade and his pregnant fiancée on VagabondJourney.com (Sinai Border Exit Tax).

As a family of three, getting pinched by this would mean coughing up a good US$40 for nothing.

Egypt charges every foreigner passing into the Sinai Peninsula via Taba a special 75EGP ($13.30) tax, regardless the type of visa/permit they're traveling on.
(Image courtesy of VagabondJourney.com)

I held my breath as the bus slowed and came to a stop in front of the infamous sign Wade had photographed during his ordeal (the tax came as a surprise to the two).

Ultimately we were happily spared any additional expense, and the bus started back up about as quickly as it had stopped.

But the vehicle stopped again at a final checkpoint on Taba's city limits a few minutes later. It was boarded by Egyptian military officers who inspected our passports for their proper immigration stamps and released back to us without comment.

It was confirmed: The 75 EGP fee is only imposed if you've entered Taba from Israel.

Pharaoh's Island and Sinai Shanty Life

We proceeded south out of Taba (before hooking west), allowing for another glimpse of Pharaoh's Island.

Pharaoh's Island, as seen from our passing bus

In the 12th century, Crusaders defending the route between Cairo and Damascus controlled by the nearby city of Aqaba, now in Jordan, and built a citadel on the small island.

The structure was added onto the UNESCO World Heritage Tentative List on July 28th, 2003, due to its purported universal cultural value. Because of its location near Jordan and Israel, the island and its coral reefs have become a popular among tourists based in Taba, Eilat, and Aqaba.

And of course, one couldn't help but observe the shanties some folks are living in—many found opposite the multi-star megaresorts built along the sea:

Taba Shanty Homes

UNDER the Suez Canal

Just before 3:00 p.m. we approached the Suez Canal, which could only be identified as such by the massive cargo ships before us (that seemed to glide across the desolate desert dunes).

Cargo ship on the Suez Canal

More than anything I thought it was particularly interesting that we crossed under the canal—the only such crossing of this type along the waterway.

The Ahmed Hamdi Tunnel is an automobile tunnel under the Suez Canal. It has two lanes of traffic, one in each direction, and connects the Asian Sinai Peninsula to the town of Suez on the African mainland. It was originally constructed as a shield tunnel by the British government in 1983. Shortly after the tunnel was completed, leaks were discovered. In 1992, the Japanese government granted aid to a project aimed at rehabilitating the tunnel.

Where Are We? East Delta Bus Company's Cairo Terminal

It took quite a bit of satellite imagery searching to figure out just where the hell in Cairo East Delta Bus dumped us. It was certainly the last stop for the vehicle, which arrived at the station at 4:45 p.m.—some 7½ hours after our departure from Nuweiba.

The precise location of the Abbasiya Bus Terminal (also known as Abasseya or Abbassia or Abbassiiyya) is at 30.067504, 31.292541.

I've also added the location to wikimapia.org, which can be an excellent resource when searching an area for places of interest.

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I'm sure you've noticed, but the travelogue isn't as current as it should be. Please be patient as I attempt to properly juggle child raising, CouchSurfing and travel at the same time. Maybe just ignore the date and pretend it's today... or if you're craving more current updates, try giving my enhanced Twitter RSS feed a peek.

My Current Location: I've been in Margate (FL), USA for the past 239 days.

Our final night in Nuweiba was as sweltering as ever. Even at 7:00 in the morning our wood and concrete room was still radiating heat from the day prior.

As Tatiana packed away the last of the items saved for the morning's routine, I sought out Nasser al-Din to consult him on transport into town for our scheduled departure.

"I spoke with the man last night," Nasser unexpectedly mentioned during our conversation. "He said he'll be waiting for you at the apartment in Cairo."

…I closed my eyes briefly and took a deep breath. Shit.

The Problem

Tatiana's been friends with Princess (an Italian/American woman she met in Miami) since 2007. The two attended the same belly dance festival in Cairo during July '07, following which Tatiana spent a chunk of time at Princess' Giza apartment.

Tatiana was given a key to the home and a standing invitation to come back and stay whenever we were near, regardless if Princess was in Cairo or not—as is the case currently.

A few weeks ago Princess passed along the phone number of her Egyptian fiancée, Shalaby, via MSN Messenger—her choice of communication tool, it would seem. Supposedly the fellow would pluck us from the bus terminal in Cairo and usher us back to her home whenever we arrived.

The evening before our departure from Jordan, unsure if we'd be staying in Nuweiba or pushing on to Giza, Tatiana called him up (via Skype) to introduce herself and apprise him of our proximity.

Unfortunately, the conversation went pretty poorly (due to the language barrier), and essentially ended with us at least knowing the phone number worked and that he'd like us to call him when we arrived.

Unable to reach Princess in the two weeks since that conversation, we'd hoped to remedy our communication conundrum by having Nasser speak to the man in Arabic on our behalf.

Alas, the Internet connection at Green Beach wasn't speedy enough for a Skype call and as of last night Nasser's mobile phone was out of credits. …But we'd left him with the name and phone number, which apparently he'd kindly found a way to call on our behalf.

The problem that we now faced was an arrival in Cairo without the apartment's address. I'd been pressing Tatiana for the past week to get this info from Princess, but nothing ever materialized.

We'd have to call Shalaby again when we arrived in the city just to figure out where to go, how much to pay for a taxi (unmetered, naturally), and how to express that destination without speaking Arabic.

Joy.

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I'm sure you've noticed, but the travelogue isn't as current as it should be. Please be patient as I attempt to properly juggle child raising, CouchSurfing and travel at the same time. Maybe just ignore the date and pretend it's today... or if you're craving more current updates, try giving my enhanced Twitter RSS feed a peek.

My Current Location: I've been in Margate (FL), USA for the past 239 days.

This is a quick overview for travelers interested in transiting from the AB Maritime ferry at Nuweiba's port to the East Delta Company bus terminal.

The arrival into Egypt at this point of entry can be a chaotic and nerve-wracking experience, and there's simply no need to exasperate the situation by not knowing where to go for onward transportation and who to avoid.

Nuweiba's Port to the East Delta Bus Company Terminal

Even before exiting the port gates you'll be approached and pulled by men attempting to wrangle you into their transport. Adding to the confusion is a refueling station and bus congregation point within the confines of the port, directly in front of you as you exit the customs 'inspection.'

Don't be mislead, these aren't the buses you're looking for. Nor are the empty promises from the gaggle of taxi and minibus drivers waiting for you opposite the gate.

It's only a handful of meters to walk the distance from the exit of the port terminal to the indifferent employees at East Delta Bus (see image above). There's no need to wait in line with dozens and dozens of passengers inside the port's terminal to use the single ATM, as there are two international-capable machines along the way where you can pull out the Egyptian pounds necessary to pay for your bus ticket.

At the time of writing, 60 EGP/ticket was the price for the 9:00 a.m. departure for Cairo (via Taba).

Daily Buses Timetable from Nuweiba

Unless you're actually staying in Nuweiba and planning your departure, it's generally pointless to pay attention to any bus departure timetable you'll dig up. Not only are the arrivals and departures of East Delta Bus erratic, but so too will be any transport bringing travelers into Nuweiba. Simply take comfort in the notion that there will always be a cheap bungalow at Green Beach if you're not inclined to wait or get extorted by the Egyptian minibus wranglers (who'll always be happy to take you and your money at most any time of day).

With that being said…

06.30: Dahab » Sharm el-Sheikh » Tor » Suez
09.00: Taba » Cairo
12.00: Taba
15.00: Taba » Cairo
16.00: Dahab » Sharm el-Sheikh
Nuweiba: Information Guide

Cairo (E£70 to E£80, seven to eight hours) at 9am, 11am and 3pm going via Taba (E£15 to E£20, one hour); Sharm el-Sheikh (E£20 to E£25, three hours) at 6.30am, 8.30am, 10am and 4pm going via Dahab (E£10 to E£15, one hour). There's a bus to Suez (E£45 to E£50, four hours) at 6.30am, and an inconvenient connection from Nuweiba to St Katherine via Dahab departing at 8.30am (E£22).
Lonely Planet: Nuweiba, Getting There & Away

Note: The bus makes frequent stops along the route between Nuweiba and Taba. If you're staying at a hotel or bungalow camp you can simply wait by the roadside and flag it down. Payment is either accepted on board or at the ticketing window in Taba.

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I'm sure you've noticed, but the travelogue isn't as current as it should be. Please be patient as I attempt to properly juggle child raising, CouchSurfing and travel at the same time. Maybe just ignore the date and pretend it's today... or if you're craving more current updates, try giving my enhanced Twitter RSS feed a peek.

My Current Location: I've been in Margate (FL), USA for the past 239 days.

It's a scorching 39°C (102°F) today as we prepare for tomorrow's departure to Cairo. We've enjoyed the past two weeks spent lounging by the Gulf of Aqaba, but there are aspects of our routine here that have begun wearing on us. It's time for a change, and as we're already halfway through our 30-day tourist visa it's about time we figure out just how long we're going to be in the country, and how much of it we'll see.

Below are some of the snapshots that didn't find a place in any previous travelogue posts. First up, some cute captures of Aidric…

Aidric Playing in the Red Sea: …Getting his diaper wet.

Aidric's Simple Red Sea Entertainment: As a 16-month-old Aidric was quite content to simply play with rocks inside an empty can.

Aidric in a White Tunic: For much of our second week at Green Beach Aidric wore this outfit (diaper and tunic), which quickly became dirty beyond our ability to clean it.

Lounging in Bungalow Six with a Naked Aidric

Tatiana and a Cautious Aidric in the Red Sea

Blond Aidric Hiding from a Visitor: A couple came wandering into Green Beach and asked Nasser if he had espresso. …ESPRESSO! Idiots.

Aidric Posing Like He's in Playgirl

Scenes from Green Beach and Nuweiba

Brick Building Under Construction

Restaurant Greeting on Wall in Arabic: "With the greetings of the most honorable fisherman"

Cooked Fish at Baraka Restaurant

Grilled Fish at Baraka Restaurant

Star-Filled Night Sky Scene

Green Beach After Dark

Green Beach Lounge: Gravel under the rugs. The trunks of palm trees are used in places to creating individual sections.

Green Beach as Seen from the Lounge

Green Beach Bungalows and Neighboring Huts Along the Shoreline

Green Beach Bungalow Six Lounge Scene

Tom Mikkor's Lofted Apartment

Green Beach As Seen from Tom Mikkor's Lofted Apartment

Green Beach As Seen from Tom Mikkor's Lofted Apartment

Green Beach Cottage Apartments

Egypt Free Shops: In this place one often wishes for an Egypt-free shopping experience.

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I'm sure you've noticed, but the travelogue isn't as current as it should be. Please be patient as I attempt to properly juggle child raising, CouchSurfing and travel at the same time. Maybe just ignore the date and pretend it's today... or if you're craving more current updates, try giving my enhanced Twitter RSS feed a peek.

My Current Location: I've been in Margate (FL), USA for the past 239 days.

Attawy Ibrahim, the owner of Green Beach, is quite possibly one of the laziest Bedouins I've encountered.

Upon my first encounter with the man he shook my hand and shared with me that he too was a father, to a newborn (just two weeks old). "We're in the same boat," his tone and body language silently communicated.

But in the same boat we most certainly are not—not even in the same ocean.

Tatiana and I presume that Attawy leaves his wife and newborn under the guise of having to go to 'work' for the day, but we truly see what that entails for this Bedouin: Eating, socializing, and sleeping.

Attawy as he typically spends most days: asleep.

The Sudanese-born Nasser al-Din is the true workhorse behind Green Beach. Nasser's really amazing—if I was going to open anything in the hospitality field I'd want him there with me.

Attawy, on the other hand, sleeps. We haven't seen the man do one damn thing but talk to his buddies, have Nasser cook lunch for him, and nap the afternoons away.

Being a new father and a business owner's hard work, eh Attawy? Good thing you're sleeping through it.

Tatiana has nicknamed him "The Sacrifice Father," for all the many personal sacrifices that the man's clearly making in his life on account of his new fatherhood.

Regardless if it's from cultural or personal indifference, we truly feel sorry for this man's wife. Surely she has to deal with everything relating to her newborn without his help, plus the burden of being married to someone as absent and useless as he.

More than likely Attawy arrives home and expects dinner to be prepared for him by the exhausted post-partum mother, just as an oblivious child would returning home an afternoon of play.

Even my Peruvian fiancée, who's accustomed to a culture of machismo behavior and a gender-defined roles mindset, sneers at the man.

Alas, there are plenty of Attawys in this world. These disconnected fathers will never change a diaper, prepare a meal, feed their infant, or do much of any decent parenting at all.

Good luck with that.

Camel race advert with a photo of (the very full of himself) Attawy Ibrahim

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I'm sure you've noticed, but the travelogue isn't as current as it should be. Please be patient as I attempt to properly juggle child raising, CouchSurfing and travel at the same time. Maybe just ignore the date and pretend it's today... or if you're craving more current updates, try giving my enhanced Twitter RSS feed a peek.

My Current Location: I've been in Margate (FL), USA for the past 239 days.

These little fellows were frequently encountered in the sand and muck that constituted the intertidal zone just in front of Green Beach's bungalows.

Never short on entertainment upon extraction from the sea, the mollusk frantically swings its sword-like muscular arm to try and free itself. Be sure to check out the video (below) of the little guy in action.

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I'm sure you've noticed, but the travelogue isn't as current as it should be. Please be patient as I attempt to properly juggle child raising, CouchSurfing and travel at the same time. Maybe just ignore the date and pretend it's today... or if you're craving more current updates, try giving my enhanced Twitter RSS feed a peek.

My Current Location: I've been in Margate (FL), USA for the past 239 days.