Cairo

Airports around the world look remarkably similar. Duty free, cash machines, coffee shops and shite music. But once you leave the building you will quickly realise where you are. Either the climate will hit you (Moscow), or the smells (Mumbai) or the fact that there a chickens roaming around the arrivals lounge (Rangoon).

In Cairo it involves the fact that 20 taxi men will descend on you shouting various hotel names. I chose to speak to the least shady looking chap, a competition he won by virtue of being the only driver not wearing sunglasses (it was midnight). I said "Arabian Nights hotel". He says "Yes, Yes" before I'd even finished the "N" of nights. I asked him if he was sure. "Yes, Yes" he replied. I'm quite sure if I'd have asked him his mother's name I'd have found out that she was indeed named "Yes, Yes". But the man cunningly consulted his 19 colleagues and after a round of shouting, gesticulating and mocking each other my driver inclined his head and said "Come, Come". I was beginning to believe that he had a severe stutter. After some "Here, Heres" and "Sit, Sits" I was safely ensconced in his 1970's Lada and was hurtling down the dark highway, weaving madly through the other cars, Cairo bound.

Spent 2 days in Cairo, checking out the Egyptian museum, browsing round Khan el-Khalili and of course visiting the pyramids.

Getting to the pyramids was rather a chore. I jumped into a cab at 7am and said slowly & loudly (how one communicates abroad don't you know). "The Pyramids please".

"Yes, Yes" says the cabby, but this time I am confident of his skills. I mean what could possibly go wrong?
Half an hour later we pull up outside The Pyramids Casino...

"No, The REAL pyramids" I say, making an impressive attempt at forming a pyramid with my hands.

"Yes, Yes" affirms Mr. Cabdriver and we both laugh this off as if we are sharing a joke.

10 minutes down the road and we roll to a stop outside the New Pyramids Hotel. At this stage I'm questioning my sanity. So I redraw the pyramids with my hands and actually do a mummy impression (hands outstretched and head bobbing from side to side, I'm a natural). I'm not sure if that freaked him out, but whatever it was he hit the gas and sped off south.

Running out of options we actually arrived at the REAL pyramids about half an hour later, but in the meantime a smog/fog/low cloud mix had descended and obscured any sign of the 'mids.

I paid my pounds and entered. I had heard that the touts were quite aggressive so I had brought my iPod. This proved to be a sound decision (boom boom) as within the first 60 seconds I had been approached by 3 postcard sellers, 2 camel drivers, a donkey driver (with serious animal envy, I'm sure he was saving up for a camel) and a partridge in a pear tree. I smiled graciously at them and walked on.

The misty mix was still hanging low, so I found a rock, sat down and had a banana. A couple of minutes passed and in the distance a grey dot appeared. The dot grew larger and within a couple of seconds something vaguely pyramidal appeared. A few more seconds passed and lo-and-behold this beauty to the right loomed on the horizon. Quite spectacular and all heightened by a fantastic playlist on the pod. Couldn't even be ruined by the snotty nose kid shoving some grubby postcards in my face...

Istanbul

Snow was not present on landing in Istanbul, in fact it was positively balmy once I walked out of the airport into the night air.

Spent a night in a lovely hotel and after a leisurely breakfast I revisited the sights of Istanbul. The Blue Mosque & Hagia Sophia were as impressive as ever and after a walk through the university I headed down to the Bosphorus to watch the lads fishing and to get a killer fish sandwich.


A quick beer under the bridge (in a restaurant, not like a down and out (although I have done that too)) and I had reconfirmed what I knew before: Istanbul rocks.

A couple of hours later I was back the airport. En route to which the taxi driver tried to overcharge me - "special route". I laughed and told him to forget it and gave him a 50 Lira note (still too much for the ride). He then tried to pull the 5/50 Lira note trick (the 5 & 50 Lira bills look very similar). I told him his mother had a beard and jumped out of the cab. Travel advice #450: Keep your luggage with you in a taxi & #451: Have the correct change to be able to throw at them and leave the car - not cool to tell a taxi driver to rot in hell when your luggage is being held captive, nor it is easy to refuse to pay a fare when you need change out of a 50 euro note). Not the best end to Istanbul, but like Arnie, I'll be back.

Couple of photos here

London-Amsterdam-Istanbul

Snow, ice, cold, plum pudding, brussels sprouts are not things I particularly like. So a couple of days into December a Christmas & New Year getaway was planned. Wanting to dive & get a bit of culture I decided to flee London for Egypt.
Unfortunately direct flights were already way over 500 quid. So with some Kayaking and map consulting I found a cheap flight to Istanbul (with KLM via Amsterdam) and then a flight from Istanbul to Cairo the next day


A couple of days before I was due to fly the skies broke and snow descended en masse. It was beautiful - deep and crisp and even, people skiing by me in north London. But the airports seemed to struggle, but hey, what's the worst that could happen with a couple of dozen cm of snow on a runway?

Well as we know now, the worst that can happen is that the busiest airport in the UK (and Europe for that matter) ground to a virtual standstill for 7 days. I tried to contact KLM the night before my flight, but was politely told that they were busy and to feck off. Not happy letting some frozen water ruin a holiday I searched for alternative routes. Boat to Holland? Nope, would have had to leave 12 hours ago. Eurotunnel? Booked out. Swim? Too cold. Damn this living on an island malarkey. But somehow the snow Gods smiled upon me and at 1am a flight from Gatwick to Amsterdam magically appeared.

I normally arrive at an airport about 59 minutes before departure but on this day I left about 4 hours before - British transport being notoriously susceptible to "wrong" weather. My choice was wise, as the tube was delayed and the train to Gatwick also. But despite all I got to Gatwick to find a fully functioning airport, with minimal snow cover and few delays. Finally proving that the authorities at Heathrow are just incompetent nitwits.

I was still trying to contact KLM to tell them that I would be taking the Amsterdam-Istanbul flight and not to give the seat to someone else. Their service line was still disconnecting me with teutonic robocop efficiency and they were not answering their emails. In a final fit of desperation I check their twitter account and see that queries are being answered, so while sitting on the plane ready to taxi I had to f*cking tweet to KLM to save my seat... When we landed a tweet alighted from my Blackberry informing me my seat was kept and to enjoy my flight.

Where would we be without modern technology, eh?

Saner. I honestly needed those 3 pints in 40 minutes at Schipol airport. Just for the nerves.