It seems like chaos on the streets, lanes and lanes of cars backed up honking horns and jerking forward, people walking in front to get across the road. It's only a matter of time till I see an accident I'm sure.
But the only way to cross is to join them. Like a local said you have to close your eyes and pray to Allah to get across. I've found it also helps if you surreptitiously cross with, or behind a local. The older or more infirm the better as the more likely the motorists are to let them pass. That said it's still a genuine challenge.
The streets are literally rough; bits of pavement broken up exposing the dusty sand below. It is not too much of an exaggeration to say that street stalls and markets are everywhere. Everyone wants your business.
They chatter to you; 'excuse me, hello, welcome, where are you from, where are you going?'.
Some will even start walking beside you or in front to engage you.
There are some smooth and probably desperate characters out there.
You have to ignore them or say no thanks - la shukram but even saying that repeatedly often doesn't work with the most persistent.
Its all seemingly part of a scam but the people are so friendly it’s hard to be firm or berate. It's a fine balance as if you politely say no a lot will take this as an invitation to continue. And if you are too firm the men will often visibly sulk or get angry and you never know when you might be dealing with a genuine well wisher. The only clue is the places you are accosted. Obviously if it's in a tourist area it's definitely a ploy to separate you from your cash.
The heat is oppressive, and people noticeably lose their temper. There's a lot of noise and a really large amount of people on the streets: People bargaining, people drinking tea and also people trying to just drive somewhere or cross the road. Taxis and commercial minibuses toot constantly at passers by to see if they want a lift. It all combines to make you feel like yes, you really are in a city of twenty million.
Walking outside of the main city to the areas where ordinary people live was a sight to behold. Narrow alleyways spread between run down concrete blocks, so high it makes it hard to know quite where you are. The thoroughfares are alive and buzzing. Both men and women outside of the downtown area are more likely dressed in flowing robes, scarves and head coverings then western clothes. All the smells of the market are on the air. Live chickens peck about, rubbish is strewn around and horse and carts go by. Men are drinking tea and smoking Shisha pipes on the sidewalk. There's a lot of dust on the hot wind, cats are everywhere and especially in the overflowing bins.
After a while in this unfamiliar territory inevitably I am slightly lost.
I have been walking around 3 or 4 hours. The day is hot and I know the time for aimless walking is over. I need shade and hydration now. I approach the locals with what I've found is a bit of a magic phrase 'Salaam Alaykum' (Peace be with you)
Everyone is happy to help, everyone without fail smiles when I approach and tries to give me directions. Some speaking halting English, with others all I understand is their hand signals.
I end up finding my way back across to the main town where I take a steaming metro to get nearer my hotel. I see a corner shop with fruit outside and glasses on a bench which is where I discover sugar cane juice. It's so cold that chilled air is rising from the top and it's only 1EGP per glass (15 cents). Gulping it down my parched body welcomes the heavenly liquid.
One more glass please...
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