My loooong journey back to Sharm started far too early in the morning. Rather than pay my weight in gold for a taxi I decided to walk to the bus station. It is a straight road so I of course got a wee bit lost. Not so much lost as panicked that I was going to get lost. The streets were deserted. Quiet Jerusalem has a very Shaun of the Dead vibe about it. I made it to the bus station without getting my face eaten off by a zombie and with plenty of time to catch my bus. Luckily enough because to enter the BUS STATION you have to go through airport style security. I had to put my bags through an x-ray machine and I was briefly frisked. I stopped off at the pick and mix bakery and got a big bag of carbs to last the journey.
My bus left Jerusalem just as the city was waking up and the kids were all heading off to school. I love seeing people in traditional Jewish gear. My trip to Israel was the first time I had ever really experienced Jewish culture. The kids were all fiddling with the curls on the side of their heads. One of my friends told me that when she was staying in a Tel Aviv hotel the men would come down for breakfast with hair clips in to make the little curls. I had two teenage boys in front of me who got on the bus in regular street clothes. Slowly throughout the course of the bus journey they put more and more traditional gear on until they got off in Eilat practically unrecognisable…leather wrapped around arms, little hat, white cloak… I would have liked to have known if they were getting ready for a special occasion or something. Maybe their parents were just picking them up from the bus station, “Yeah ma, I totally wear my Kippah all the time”.
At Eilat I shared a taxi from the bus station with 3 guys who were going to Cairo. The taxi driver charged me more than them, which is standard but why tell me? Presume I am a gullible tourist and I will just play along. For the sake of a pound it was not worth the argument. We got to the border and just like before we were the only ones in amongst millions of Korean tourists. Korea must have been empty that day. They all had tons of stuff with them. They each had boxes of water. I wanted to let them know that they do actually sell water in Egypt and it is a hell of a lot cheaper than in Israel. I managed to skip past some of the queues. I got stopped and sent back a few times. The other tourists were very cheery and I was given lots of sweeties. Children were produced and forced to say hello to me. It was quiet nice really. Almost like a festival atmosphere. I was knocked out on travel sickness pills. I could have been anywhere. I was stopped at the Egyptian side of the border and had my bag searched:
“What’s this?”
“It’s a book”
“What’s this?”
“That’s another book”
“What’s this?”
“That’s a computer”
“Open it” Oh dear. My screen saver is of the graffiti on the Palestinian Side of the Western Wall. How was I going to get out of this one? I opened the lap top with a charming grin on my face like Debbie McGee.
“Fine” *Stampety stampety stamp stamp stamp* Clearly the guard was just checking that it would not explode when opened.
It took about 90 minutes but I was freeeeeeeeee! Israel/Egypt border is definitely the toughest border security I have ever come across. Didn’t get arrested so high-five for that.
According to my research I was just in time to make the daily bus back to Sharm. I asked a taxi to take me to the bus station. He said there was no bus then tried to charge me over a $100 to get back to Sharm. The next taxi said the same thing, and the next and the next. I got in one and arranged a fare to the bus station. It was a 1 minute walk away. I threw my money at him and growled for ripping me off. The bus station was actually just a window and a stall selling mobile phone accessories. I was actually 4 hours early for the bus. My fastidious researching had let me done for the first time ever. I tried in the baking heat to get a taxi. None passed by, no one had a telephone number for one. The only drivers were the ones from the gate who tried so desperately to rip me off. I was deliriously hot and tired at this point and sick of arguing with taxi drivers. A mini bus pulled up and agreed to take me for 30 pound. This was a decent fare and he seemed nice enough so I agreed. It was the same price I had paid to get to Taba so I knew it was a good deal.
From Taba to Sharm is nothing but desert. The driver was chatty and I had plenty of space. I had to pay yet another entrance fee then we were on our way. As soon as we got onto the road the driver fell silent. I needed to get some water and I asked the driver if he could stop somewhere. No answer. I asked again. Still no response. Bugger. What would kill me first, the driver or thirst? I had a really bad feeling. Recently tourists have been getting kidnapped by Bedouins in the Sinai Peninsula and held for ransom. Genuinely I was very frightened. I have Kidnapping Material written all over me. I called one of my best friends in Sharm. I told him I was in a minibus alone and I was worried that I was going to get kidnapped. I would call him when I got to Sharm. If he did not hear from me by a certain time he was to contact all major international news outlets. He gave me a bit of a telling off for going off on my own but he agreed to wait by the phone. I yelled at the driver to pull over for water. He heard me this time and a couple of minutes later we stopped. I made small talk while the shop keepers tried to rip me off. I was making sure they got a really good look at my face. If I went missing they could give descriptions to the FBI. “Look at the driver, isn’t he wearing a nice galabeya?”… I wanted them to get a good look at him too. Before we got back into the car I practiced some karate moves in full view of the driver. I wanted him to be more scared of me, than I was of him. I wasn’t just a weary traveller I was a weapon of mass destruction. I sat in the mini bus clutching my bag as we whizzed through the desert. I made a couple of fake phone calls on my phone. very sneaky since I didn’t even have reception. I was ultra alert. Then I started feeling very drowsy, my eyes were heavy….
The driver woke me up when we got to my apartment. I had slept like a baby the whole way. I was alive! I paid the driver and gave him a bit of baksheesh for not kidnapping me. I realised it was much later than the time I had told my friend I would ring him. I called him and he answered the phone groggily on the 30th ring….”Have you bloody been asleep? I could have been dead.” What a cheek! Sleeping while I was in mortal danger. Some safety system he was. I did not mention that I had also been asleep.
I spent my last evening in my little apartment repacking all my bags. I can not put into words how much I hate to pack. It is a lot though. I went into the Old Market to pick up some presents for the family. My friend relieved that I had not been kidnapped took me out for dinner at my favourite restaurant to celebrate.
With that it was all over. The next morning I boarded a plane and headed back to Sunny Scotland…
