After couch surfing the first night I moved to stay with Hassam and his girlfriend, Leslie. Hassam is a film-maker interested in my journey.

I was fortinate to accompany Hassam to first a birthday party and then an engagement party. I was getting an inside view of Egyptian culture.

At night some of Hassam's friends would drink tea and smoke Shisa untill the early hours. The city buzzed in the cool of the night. This nocturnal behaviour was exagerated during Ramadan when shops seemed to close down during the day, which was hindering my search for bike components..

I had bouhgt a road bike for 60 pounds, which I intended to run into the ground and replace with a mountain bike before heading South through Africa. However four months later I have grown a strong attachment towards Tuborg (my bike) and ditching my sole companion just wouldn't feel right.

To get Tuborg through the rutted African roads I thought it best to change the wheels. Especially the front one, which now has both a vertical and horizontal wobble, since being vandalised.

I soon realised that whilst Cairo has many bike shops, they are aimed at the local market and few of the components fit my machine. Perhaps the only alternative was to import from overseas. I e-mailed a UK bike shop, but was gutted to learn that importing wheels would cost 100 pounds and that was on top of the price of the wheels, at least 120 for a descent set. At this time I also discovered that my bank balance was down to 600 quid, ruling out this option.

I searched and searched for spare spokes, hoping that with enough, perhaps I could nurse the bike through. I could scarecly believe that after days of searching such a large city I had found no spokes.

Tyres were a success story, although there were no Schwable Marathones here. I managed to acquire an Indian and a Thai tyre. The Indian didn't fit, but apparently the Thai is the bees knees. I have kept the Indian in hope of trading it in later..

So I will pedal on towards Sudan and see how Tuborg and I get along with the rutted roads. Cairo was fun, but now time is ticking down on my Sudanese visa it is time to hit the road again.

Monday August 17, 2009

I was up before dawn, packing away my stuff, allowing me to set off at sunrise. I didn't feel good. I was tired and had an upset stomach. Cairo was 125 km away, and so was an ATM.

I stopped at a lay by. Truckers were buying food from a mobile stand. I was given food for free. Ideal!

I plodded on, motivated by the idea of sleeping in a bed. My body ached. The road became progressively more dangerous, the hard shoulder dissappeared at times, was very narrow at times, as were the lanes, so lorried would drive with one wheel in the hard shoulder. When it widened cars would use it as an extra lane, sometimes to undertake the traffic, this was scary.

But if this was scary, Cairo itself was terrifying. I had made it into the city, but caught a taxi to where I was staying with my couch surfing contact. Partly as I was lost and tired, but also for my own safety. Theres no glory in becoming a road accident.

Sunday August 16, 2009

I was up at 6 and eat a good breakfast given to me by the kind petrol station owners.

Some people standing outside of a plain white building waved at me. I cycled over and was happy to find the building was a small shop. Their prices were low, so I bought up lots of wafer biscuits!

Apparently the next town was only 30 km away. Later I passed a checkpoint to be told that the town was only 15 km further. Rubbish, 50 km's later, without a sniff of civilisation I reached an army base. Here I was told the town was 5-10 km's away. Finally I must nearly be at a stopping point!

The army base had a small shop outside. I bought some water and chatted to a soldier. Military service is mandatory here, the uneducated perform 3 years, going down to just 1 year for graduates. Unlike others I had met in Turkey, this man said he was happy to perform his military service. He argued that he loved he country passionatly and wanted to defend it himself, rather than rely on others, who may not love Egypt so much, to defend it in his place.

I cycled on into the afternoon heat over km's of road that had been dug up, but not yet resurfaced. After 30 km's I realised that there was no town. How could everybody I asked have gotten it so wrong?

I was very hot and frustrated. Then it occured to me that I had already done 120 km's and it was only early afternoon. I had time to do 60 more and reach Suez, and for the first time ever complete a 100 mile day!

Now I was set on the ton. Who would have thought that I would be my best in the desert heat! This goal was cut short as I reached an over priced cafe at a cross roads.

I was exhausted and could hardly walk. I stopped for a while before cycling on toward a town I could see in the distance. I reached a tunnel, which I wasn't allowed to ride throught, but was given a lift in a pick-up.

On the other side were green fields. Wow! people were pumping up water for irrigation. Suez was 18 km detour from the Cairo road, so I headed straight towards Cairo. Some tyre mechanics beckoned me other to eat with them. As I eat I tried to put the dirtyness of the bowl to one side.

I slept at a Mango stall. It had a roof on stilts and open sides. It was open all night. I just rolled out my mat and slept on the ground, slightly nervous of the giant earwigs and and slightly fearful of scorpions appearing. Unfortinately they switched on a generator and watched TV with the volume up high all night. I didn't sleep, but was routinely given cups of tea and was invited to join the family for dinner.

Saturday August 15, 2009
 
After being given breakfast I exchanged e-mail addresses and set off.

The previous night I realised that I was low on Egyptian currency, I would need to make my remaining 50 Egyptian pounds (about 10 USD) last till the next ATM, location unknown. I had some USD, but in $100 bills, which I was reluctant to change for fear of being conned/ robbed. How did I only have 50 pounds left, I think the money changer on the boat must have short changed me.

I stopped for brunch at a cafe, a sight for sore eyes, situated in the middle of the desert, in a tiny settlement of only a few houses. I bargained with the man, agreeing a price of 5 pounds for an omlet with sides of vegetables, I also bought water and tea.

As I finished his wife came in and asked me to pay 15 pounds. I reminded the man of our agreement, and with tea and water added in, we settled for 10 pounds as a fair price. His wife still wanted 15. Then to my dismay the husband left as a pick up truck pulled up outside and honked.

Now it was just me and the woman with $ signs in her eyes. She wanted to milk the tourist boy for all he was worth. I wanted to eek out my final 50, and having 40 left was far better than having only 35 left.

We had a big argument over the price. I lost. I offered her my 50 pounds note, but she repeatedly refused and then stormed off!

I followed her down the road to a building with men congrugated outside. I tried to explain that the woman was trying to extort an additional 5 pounds out of me, above the agreed price. I got into another big argument. They took the side of the woman and I lost.

I offered my 50 pounds note to once again have it rejected. I was now very frustrated, having been ripped off I just wanted to pay and leave.

Then I realised, I was waving a 50 plasir note at them (1/2 a pound). I only had 6p left!

After my offers of my knife and a book in exchanage for the meal, the woman finally settled for my T-shirt. The woman left, and I was glad to see the back of her.

Now I felt slightly guilty for shouting at them all, I had been in the wrong as I had been unable to pay. Still the woman was also wrong to rip me off.

The men told me to sit and stay, I was worried they might want to seek revenge on me for shouting at them. Instead one man gave me 20 pounds to keep me going. This was very kind and I left thinking much better of Egyptians.

Perhaps they see ripping off tourists as fair game, just business, but they are human underneath.

Keen to cover some distance, I cycled on and on, notching up about 100 km's by early afternoon.

I stopped at Nuckel city. I found a petrrol station where I asked if there was an ATM in town. The man didn't understand but was very friendly. As we talked a car pulled up and the occupants asked in English if they could help.

They relayed my question to the petrol station attendant, but the answer was not what I was hoping for. The nect ATM was is Suez, about 180 km away. The car driver then offered me 50 pounds, I refused once, perhaps out of politeness, but not twice. Wow!

I managed to buy food for 5 pounds and slept in a second petrol station.

Friday August 14, 2009
 
I rose around 7.30 and was off by 8.15. It was uphill and very windy.

I cycled on and on, but found no Bedouin and no villages. I was totally exhausted and I wanted to just sit in the shade and rest, but there was no shade, so there was no rest for Pete. At least if i kept moving I would not cook.

After hours of non stop cycling I was low on water and was desperately hoping that yesterdays information about a settlement 60 km's away was accurate. I stopped at an industrial site of sorts, I had seen a man, but as I entered the site he had gone. I waited for a minute then carried on. Low on water and down to half a packet of biscuits, I was on the verge of entering a state of emergency.

A car stopped and gave me water. Hooray for the bedouin! But I was still exhausted and it was getting even hotter. I needed to rest in the shade somewhere, anywhere.

It was still 20 km's to the fabled town. I ploughed on, only averaging about 14 km/h uphill and into the wind. It was hard, but i made it!!

Around 12.30 I finally reached a settlement, almost fell of my bike, bought water, and then was invited to sit down and join the cafe owner and his family for a meal. Then I slept on a matress for a few hours.

Around 3.40 I got up, bought fresh supplies and learnt that the next settlement was 110 km's away. Great!

After pleading with them that a shop/house or anything must be closer, they said there was something after 40 km's.

I inflated my tyre, but after a minute it punctured without me havig ridden it. Luckily the cafe owner helped me fix it (did it for me!).

As I repacked my bike a Swiss man approached me. He invited me over for coffee. We chatted and I looked at his map, I was in a very bleak uninhabited area.

Andy and his wife Hanna had customised their own Toyota campervan. It was very professionally done, and they were even thinking of selling them after taking this prototype on the ultimate road test - they were also heading for Cape Town. They reassured me that getting visa'a and security issues shouldn't be a problem. They gave me a book to read. They wre very kind. Their website - www.hannaundandy.ch

After all this it was gone 6 pm and I was reluctant to leave civilisation so late in the day. I cycled on to another cafe where I met a man who spoke good English. I asked him if I could put my tent up behind the building. He let me sleep indoors, above the cafe, and he even fed me for free!

Thursday August 13, 2009

I discovered the bike had another puncuture, which I mended, then I washed the chain and relaced the cable to the front gears. After the unexpected repairs I left the camp late, then picked up supplies and inflated the tyre fully at a garage.

I cycled only 2 or 3 km's before I had yet another puncture. I headed back to a checkpoint I had just passed, and changed the bold tyre for the spare I have been carrying since Romania. The spare is narrower and was intended to be used to replace the front tyre. I just hoped it would handle the weight on the rear wheel.

I cycled on uphill through a canyon, into a headwind and against oppressive heat. I stopped at some isolated palm trees to sit in the shade and chat to some Bedouin. Sadly they soon had to leave as a pick-up truck arrived for them. I headed back into the heat.

I spotted a small Bedouin community of a few houses. I was now desperate for shade, so cautiously approached this settlement. I only wanted to sit in the shade, but found no one there but small children, so reluctantly headed ack to the road to cook some more..

Again I spotted some small building just off the road, and this time I also saw some men, hooray! I joined them, they gave me some tea and water, they were very king Bedouins. I was in paradise after 3 hours in the heat, with no shade.

As I chatted to them the 2 men started to smoke drugs! They asked if I had whisky with me! I was surprised by their substance abuse, but later learned that Bedouin are involved in much drug smuggling through the desert.

The men left, but a boy remained. He said there was a shop 7 km up the road. Hooray! Then he said there was a supermarket here! What? Yes, in a small building there was a stash of water bottles and biscuits, kept in cartons on the floor. I resupplied.

I cycled the 7 km's to find a small settlement. I joined some people for tea. They said not to camp roadside but to find some kind people willing to take me in. Not all people were good here.

I asked them if I could stay in this village somewhere, as it would be dark in a hour. They replied that there was a bigger settlement 60 km's down the road, which I could get to in 2 hours if I pedalled fast!

I moved on to a shop, bought some food and was invited to camp behind the building. A man approached in a Toyota 4x4, he spoke excellent American English. He said I looked like one of the Taliban with my beard!

He wanted to swap knives with me, I agreed as I could use a friend in these parts. We swapped, then he showed me his loaded, unlicenced gun. I asked why he needed it? Was it dangerous? He replied no, and if anybody messed with me he would track them down himself.

I think these very isolated parts make their own law. I slept, no problems.

Tuesday August 11, 2009
 
The boat arrived in Nuweba in the middle of the night. I had handed my passport to the immigration offical on board, who had said he would return it to me in the port once I had bought my visa at the bank.

The bank was closed, I informed teh offical of this, then waited for it to open. Eventually it opened, I bought the visas and was relieved to get my passport back.

I thought I was done and dusted and in Egypt. However all bags had to be x-rayed, my panniers included. Many Egyptians work abroad, and many on the boat were carrying all of their possessions with them. They used giant carts to wheel bags over the the x-ray machine, where there was a scrum of people throwing bags in.

I stood watching, then took my chance to try and put my whole bike into the machine. I was told to take the bags off and put them through individually. As my bags were attached by bungee straps and zip ties I was not keen. I was especially not keen as I had loose walking boots, sleeping bag, roll mat, hat and water bottles tied on.

Would all this stuff be waiting on the other side amongst all this chaos? Eventually someone let me wheel my bike around, skipping the x-ray machine. At the exit gate a guard asked me if I had been e-rayed, to which I replied yes they let me through. I had made it!

I drank tea and ate breakfast with some new found friends. Someone told me I could camp 6 km's up the road. After asking more directions I set off. It emerged there were no camp sites, but there were beach huts in a paradise location. Time to rest.

Tuesday August 11, 2009

I woke up to the sound of "ping, ping".. I thought kids were throwing stones at my bike, I told them to go away and heard them scurry off. When I got up I found someone had cut though 4 spokes and pulled off my cycle computer.

As I packed up my tent the man I had met last night and his son approached. They watched as I attempted to repair the wheel using all of my spare spokes. As I struggled to get the wheel anywhere near round the man offered to driveme down into town to visit the bike shop.

After a fast drive down to town the bike mechanic managed to get the wheel close to round, but he said he that was as good as it would ever get. He had no spokes I could buy to replace my spares.

As I returned in the car the man asked for 20 JD payment. I was shocked at this high price. Whilst Jordan is an expensive country, petrol is cheap and the man seemed to have nothing better to do than drive me around.. Anyway I only had 7 pounds and he seemed more than happy with this.

I cycled off to the port, but unlike the road to the town this crossed a big mountain.. could things get any worse? I had set off dehydrated and with only one bottle of water. At my first stop I gulped down half of this. I had no money left and little water and a big, big hill to climb in the mid day heat.

I was concerned I might pass out, I kept stopping every 50 metres or so, as the road was so steep. Each corner brought fleeting hope untill I found the hill continued to rise up and up into the burning skies.

Finally reaching the top I spoke to a policeman. I had been told by a cafe owner that the Egyptian port was called Nuweba, so I asked him for directions. Reassuringly he told me to continue than turn right.

After visiting a container port I finally arrived at the passenger area, half dead. I asked the guard for water, he obliged.

I discovered the ferry cost $60 and it was 5JD to leave Jordan. I didn't know how much it was to enter Egypt and was concered that my cash total of $100 was insufficient. I asked directions to the nearest ATM, it was in town 8 km's away. This day was getting worse..

I suppose the only good news was that I had plently of time, having just missed a boat I had to wait till midnight for the next departure.

the information staff suggested I take a taxi into town, I said no, no, no, but they quoted me 5 JD to go and return from town. I was so exhausted I decided I would just splash out and get the job done, then rest.

I got in the teaxi and within 1 minute the driver rang back to the information worker to inform me it was a mistake and it was 5 JD each way. He passed me the phone so i could hear the translation.

This seemed to be a classic scam. I demanded he stop the car so I could get out. He drove on and we had a massive argument, I was in a bad mood and the driver was a money grabbing profession, neither of us were backing down.

We reached the town where the driver told me I could pay 5 JD, but he would not take me back. It seemed I had no choice but to pay 10. I took a photo of the driver and told him he would go to jail.

At this point the situation took an unexpected turn. My card didn't work at the ATM. I lined up inside the bank for 10 minutes only to be told to try the ATM again.

the driver was angry and was saying I must pay big money. Of course I couldn't pay him at all untill I got the money out. We went to another ATM, I feared it would doll out large notes, as I knew the driver would not give me change. This ATM failed as well, the driver was really frustrated. I offered him 5 USD to call it quits, he accepted. Scam over.

I just needed some cash. I managed to get this inside the bank and changed most of it over to USD.

I decided to walk back but was offered a lift for 3 JD and accepted.

Waiting for the boat I spoke to a guy working for the UN in Darfur, it was an informative chat.

Monday August 10, 2009

After a couple of reasonably prices falaffel sandwiches for breakfast I cycled on, uphill. It was slow progress. The verge was in poor condition with large cracks, this was doubly frustrating as the road itself was in excellent condition.

I summitted a "mountain" and descended into more sandy desert on the other side. I got hotter as mid day approached and I descended. Around 12.30 I stopped at a settlement to buy bread and a tin of tuna. I was in 2 minds as to whether to stay here for longer than a snack break. I decided to plough on..

It was very hot and time seemed to be passing at triple speed, perhaps it was the featurless landscape, the easy-ish downhill riding or mild heat stroke? A settelment appeared up ahead, but as I struggled up a hill time slowed and the km's dragged on and on. Forever later i finally turned off the main road, freewheeling down the main street of a small town, slumped over the handlebars, exhausted.


I stopped at a general store, bought water and settled down in a chair outside. the owner handed me a pump, he had spotted that I had a puncture, I hoped I hadn't been riding on a flat for long.

I just didn't have the srength to take everything off the bike, flip it over and remove the wheel. I just wanted to sit and rest. The shop owner however was keen for me to fix it right away and lent a helping hand. In fact he was very handy and did most of the work for me!

To top this off he handed me his phone, a translator told me he would like to invite me to his home for a meal. I accepted and we set off in his 4x4. I hoped he lived in the desert, as I envisioned us driving over dunes to get there! but he only lived on the edge of town. I enjoyed the meal but noticed that when I went to wash my hand before and after the meal the man would first go and shut his wife in a seperate room, so I would not see her.

I cycled on stopping at a small group of houses about 20 km's before Aquaba. When I cycled up the side road people approached me to say I had made a wrong turn. They offered me tea. I asked to camp in their garden and they said OK. However it was not long before half of the tea drinking party left and I was directed to the main road.

As the sun was setting I was not keen on leaving this poscket of civilisation. So when 2 men drinking tea beckoned me over I obliged. They said I could camp by an abandoned out house near to their house.

As I settled down in the tent a boy asked if I wanted food and returned with 3 chocolate bars!

Sunday August 9, 2009

It was hot and I was tired. I had been riding all morning and it was gone 1 pm now. After featureless miles of desert I stopped at the first of a string of cafes. I lined up behind a bus load of thirsty travellers to put in my order for a sandwich.

Satisfied with a good mornings ride I relaxed and bough another sandiwch, then discovered a small library of English books on a shelf below the biscuits. After scanning a 1988 edition of Lonely Planet Egypt I picked up a copy of "Misadventures in Arabia", a humorous account of a journalists time in the middle east, a far more interested read than my only previous reading material of the last 3 months, a SAS survival guide.

I was interrupted a couple of times, the owner brought me a free cup of tea, then a truck driver bought me a coffee.

I went to leave, not wanting to outstay my welcome, but the cafe owner insisted I stayed, as it was too hot outside. As I continued to read I developed a kinship with the author, we both seemed to be hopelessly lost in unfamiliar surroundings. Heck I had almost gotten married only a few days ago..

I was given a free sandwich my the cafe owner then a truck driver bought me a coke. I was also offered 3 lifts to Aqaba by kind truck drivers. As always I declined.

I cycled on considering the notion of returning from South Africa by bike and hitch hiking combined, the best of both worlds?

I stopped for the night at another settlement. An Egyptian cafe worker gave me tea and let me sleep on a concrete bench outside the cafe. I couldn't sleep, I felt nauseous, and having discovered my petrol stove was broken, I hadn't eaten.