I have to say I was a trifle surprised to learn that our building manager considered me a potential member of Isis. Given that the number of middle aged, white Englishmen who had left our green and pleasant land to wage violent jihad in the Middle East has consistently hovered around the zero mark, at least no one could accuse him of ethnic profiling. Having already passed a pleasant two months in the apartment with my friend Ziad, that had…
Friends and the fragility of life for the long term traveller The life of the long term traveller isn’t all cocktails by the pool, surrounded by beautiful people. In fact, on my budget it’s never about that and besides, the last thing the beautiful people want is some shabbily dressed, ugly old git like me hanging around cramping their style. Not that I’m trying to say it’s a shit life but after six years mostly on the road, the prospect…
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”!…
