Mattopia Jones

Arriving in Cairo

3 April 2008
Stats:
Exchange Rate: Upon my departure for this trip, 1 USD = 5.50548 Egyptian Pounds (1 EGP = .18164 USD)
Cairo Population: Roughly 8 million; 17 million in metropolitan Cairo

Flying in, my mind was pummeled with second thoughts.

What if the book’s wrong and you can’t buy a visa at the airport? Or what if the visa office is closed? I am, after all, getting in at 1:00 in the morning.

What if the hotel isn’t there to pick me up? I re-read the Windsor confirmation e-mail and wondered if they messed up the dates.

Almost as if it was designed to intentionally prolong my concerns, the plane stopped on the tarmac and we had to take a little bus to the terminal.

Well, as it turned out, everything went smoothly enough. But the book would have its opportunity to be wrong - big time - later.

The visa office was a little kiosk right smack in the middle of the immigration area. Give 'em $15 US and you're all set.

I had no problem going through immigration and customs, but a number of other non-caucasian people were having difficulties for whatever reason. I was quite relieved to see my big backpack arrive at the baggage claim. That was another concern I had, the trip taking a full-day layover in Amsterdam.

With the passport stamped and the bag in tow, the next obstacle was finding my driver. At first I thought that's where the trip was going to derail. There were loads of drivers waving signs around for this or that party, but no "Mr. Anderson."

Finally I saw the guy and all was right with the world, more or less.

I couldn’t exchange any cash when I got the visa; the officer told me to do that “on the other side.” Well, on the other side, they were closed.

Grand.

The driver wanted me to use the ATM at the hotel, but I dreaded outrageous service charges so I made a little case about how I was concerned the card wouldn't work, so it'd be better to get cash now, if at all possible.

After balking, he told me I could also exchange at the other terminal, so I ran across the parking lot, a soldier or two following my progress and no doubt wondering what the rush – at 2:00 in the morning – was all about.

The exchange guy, a bespectacled, relatively young guy, was busy chatting with some airport colleagues when I interrupted their little chat. He gave me a rather evil, sinister glare and waved a finger at me, visually indicating to me that one of my $100 bills could not be exchanged.

Fine. I got enough cash to get me going and dashed back to the driver's van.

We were officially off to the hotel!

The first big shock was the driving situation. They drive like maniacs.

This isn't the amateur-hour, hands-on-the-horn-at-all-times variety of maniacal driving. This is the kind where they not only share the road, they share the lane. Some cars actually straddled lanes, with the stripes passing right down the middle of the vehicle.

Some cars whizzed by, others were slow pokes.

The driver spoke some English, so we chatted a bit during the drive. I shared my astonishment about the traffic, even at the early hour of 2:00.

He explined to me that if you want to drive in Cairo, you must have two things:
1. A strong heart
2. Closed eyes

Needless to say, Windsor would have been virtually impossible for me to find on my own.

We pulled up to the hotel through some impossibly narrow and cluttered alleys. Across the alley - it's not really a street, but it is more than an alley - was a little cafe. All manner of people were milling around at this ridicuously early hour, pushing around 3:00.

Checking in at the Windsor, I once again wondered what I had gotten myself into. People were looking at me. Not looking at me in any particularly weird way, but looking at me. It was a little different. They were there to help.

I rather reluctantly left my passport at the front desk; they told me to pick it up in the morning.

As I would go on to learn over the next week, the folks at the Windsor would truly rock.

The rate was $48 US per night and it included breakfast and a massive room. Huge. I was paying a multiple of that rate in New York for what was in comparison a shoe box.

So there I was. In my room and having found more to write about after ½ hour in Cairo than my prior four days in New York.

Finally, I was in bed, sleeping, at 3:40 in the morning.

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