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from hurghada to aswan: what lies behind a smile

Day 69: We’re back at the Hurghada bus station for the Upper Egypt Bus Company. The previous day we’d endured a crossing of the Red Sea in which our high speed boat lurched dangerously from right to left as it was tossed by extreme waves, some higher than the boat itself.

Attempting to board the 10pm bus the previous evening, all the seats were full, and rather than stand on the overnight journey, we had made an unscheduled stop at a cheap hotel in Hurghada. Now we are back at the bus station: Kate and I together with our two long-suffering Canadian pals, Jerome and Caroline. We approach the ticket window.

The office attendant sees us coming and, curiously, his faces crinkles in a beatific smile. It really is one of the most beautiful smiles that I have ever seen.

“When is the bus to Aswan?” I inquire.

“11 o’clock,” he smiles.

“Can we make a booking?” I say.

“No,” he smiles serenely. “Tickets on the bus.”

“Is the bus air-conditioned?” I ask.

“Yes,” says the smiling man, smiling a little wider. “Air conditioned.”

“How long will it take to get to Aswan?” I ask.

“Eight hours.” He is really smiling now.

You see, he has seen “independent travellers” before and he is smiling because he knows the answers to our questions, and he knows what lies ahead.

He is also smiling because he knows that we don’t know, and if we did know, we certainly would not be attempting to buy tickets on this bus.

At ten to eleven, the bus arrives and we join the mad rush to get seats. It is a team effort. Jerome, using his rudimentary Arabic, identifies that the bus is heading to Aswan. Kate and Caroline leap onto the bus, almost before it stops moving, to secure the seats. Jerome and I then load our luggage onto the bus. The journey begins.

Time passes.

Ten hours, several stops and one breakdown later, our derelict, noisy, non-airconditioned, windblown bus pulls into Aswan. The front door opens and the collected rubbish and detritus of one hundred passengers falls out onto the street. I peel my bum off the sticky fabric of the seat and get out. Exhilaration. We have survived.


Comments

Comment from Aunty Julie
Time: 6 September 2007, 2:59 pm

Well I never. You’d think you’d be grateful for a seat on the bus with all the walking you are doing. Just adding the trekking miles together so far, maybe you can call your book 20 million steps across this hot stinky exhausting globe
All i know reading your travel log whilst sitting in my office comfort here still seems more attractive to me.

love Julie

Comment from Mariam
Time: 29 May 2008, 8:22 am

Do u really mean it took u 10 hours from Hurghada to Aswan? Coz I was going to take my mother to Aswan but if it is 10 hours I’d rather not

Comment from andrew
Time: 30 May 2008, 9:42 am

Yes, it really did take that long. It doesn’t look that far on a map, but the bus had somewhat of a “local” character. Consider alternatives.

Comment from saliva fluid
Time: 9 January 2009, 10:29 pm

Very awful story, so now now it is over and you can forget about it.

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