Egypt’s VIP police taxi service

Taking tourist security to that extra level in Egypt Deep in misty dreams of sumptuous temptations, something knocked on the doors of my subconscious, cruelly beckoning me back to the world of daylight. The unwarranted intrusion into my reverie metamorphosed into the insistent clatter of fist against the shoddy carpentry claiming to be my door. Some words of arabic had little trouble piercing the feeble woodwork, “hokouma” was the only word I needed to understand, government. “Yeah,yeah, yeah”, I grumbled…

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Making friends in Fayoum

The first signs were good: within minutes of getting off the bus somewhere on the outskirts of Fayoum I’d found a motorbike taxi who didn’t make any attempt to rip me off, in fact I couldn’t be sure if he wasnt just some guy who was happy to help out.  Certainly he spent most of the time shouting out to all and sundry as we passed by, something along the lines of, “look look a foreigner has come to visit”!…

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Welcome to the back end of Cairo

A visit to Manshiyat Naser, Cairo There is one major obstacle taking the back streets in a walk to Manshiyat Naser: tea. At times it’s only a matter of minutes between the shouts of hearty fellows inviting you over to join them in another glass, that traditional measure of hospitality throughout so much of the world. My clumsy pronunciation of, “shukran, ana lissa shribt shai” (thanks I’ve just drunk tea) my only weapon to politely stave off the numerous calls…

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Birqash Camel Market

Egypt’s biggest camel market near Cairo As we left the dusty concrete of Cairo’s outskirts behind us in the early morning haze, the mini bus driver replaced the calming tones of qur’anic recitation with the strident, impassioned voice of an Imam in full hellfire and brimstone mode. Of course the vast bulk of its meaning flew way over my humble understanding of arabic but with almost shouted exclamations concerning America and France I could be fairly sure he wasnt complimenting…

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Egyptian sex and the city

Behind the veil of love lie dark secrets Egyptians like to gossip. Also they like to complain about gossiping, as for some it extends to an unhealthy obsession in other people’s lives. To many in the West the subjects worthy of gossip may often seem rather tame but this is still a conservative society, despite many external appearances of western modernity and it’s only by digging deeper that you discover the tensions created at the front line of the clash…

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The Butchers of Eid

Animal slaughter on the streets of Alexandria Warning: sensitive animal lovers should know that this post includes pictures of dead animals and blood, no close-ups but you probably wont want to zoom in. With swift slices of a knife to its tendons the calf collapsed onto her forelegs and the burly team of butchers heaved her onto her side. In seconds the throat was slashed and the calf thrashed upwards, struggling against her severed muscles, forcing the men to jump…

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Iran 2007 – History, martyrs and cake

In the cooler NW of Iran many people speak a Turkish dialect and more importantly, the cake selection has improved markedly on the rest of country. My, albeit limited knowledge of the Turkish language came into great use in Zanjan, where I spent an evening with some local students, they were most impressed by me knowing the Turkish for fart and we got on famously after that. So if any of you take up another language don’t let the teacher…

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Iran 2007: further delights

You may be wondering what I have actually been doing in Iran , apart from looking at old buildings, chatting with locals and pondering upon the Iranian psyche. Well, as the hardened travellers amongst you will know there is plenty to dull the exotic image of distant lands and cultures: buttock numbing hours on sweaty bus seats; strained crouching over cracked porcelain, stained with an age of misuse; ill natured haggling with the species endemic to all nations – the…

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Iran 2007 – don’t take George Bush’s opinion

For those of you out there who may have a rather negative impression of Iran: dispel such thoughts immediately.  It is difficult to imagine a more welcoming country, you are assailed by a chorus of “hello how are you” wherever you go, from gurgling infants to doddering old men, from school girls to soldiers, the welcome is always sincere. I have even had a smiling baby handed to me for a kiss without their face turning into that “you’re not…

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Syria 2005 – a Kurdish welcome

I rarely need prompting to discuss political issues but when, on the streets of a dictatorship I am asked, “would you like to talk about politics”?, I may as well reply, “that’s why I am here”.  So it was that I encountered Havin, a Kurdish Zoroastrian, on the pavements of Aleppo, Syria’s largest city. Naturally such hobbies are probably best not undertaken loudly in public as an extended stay at the invitation of the secret police would tend not to…

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