Open Writing

Part of the reason I decided to go to Israel for my second month of leave during this academic year was because I could travel overland, saving money while at the same time seeing things en route.

I travelled by bus from Cairo, direct to the border in Taba. This time I came prepared with ear-plugs which helped me to endure the loud all-night video. Also, remembering how expensive the taxi ride had been last time from Eilat bus stationin Israel to the border, I seized upon the only man on the bus who looked like an obvious foreigner and asked him if he would accompany me through customs and share the taxi-ride once in Israel. He agreed. His name was eoff and he was from the USA.

I felt a bit guilty about asking him as I was aware that my Egyptian visa had expired without me realising it. I had assumed that my school would have given me a two-year visa for my entire contract when I first arrived, but actually they had only given me a one-year visa and they gave me no notification that I’d have to renew it at the end of the first year. However, in the end, it was me who had to wait for him. As he is currently researching materials for what he describes as a ‘coffee table book on the Middle East’ and taking photos to put in the book, using a manual camera, his backpack was full of camera films. The Israeli customs staff looked upon these with suspicion and twice he had to unzip his bag have the films scanned and be interrogated as to why he was carrying them.

Strangely no one seemed to notice that my visa had expired. When they Egyptian passport people checked my passport I did see the young man on duty flick through the document several times, but, as every page is full and there was a huge queue behind me, I guess he couldn’t be bothered to see the task through to the end. The only check I got was by the Israeli security people. Although myself nor none of my belongings bleeped, I think they feel they have to make some kind of spot-check on every individual just to make them squirm a bit. I was therefore asked to empty the contents of my coat pockets on the analysis table. So, out came the stray ear-plug which had fallen between the coach seats and a crumpled 50 piastre note. These were duly inspected with a long bleeping gadget. I tried to stifle a smirk. I was then asked why my passport was wet. Damp more like, from my water bottle.

At least the long drag through security checks was made a little easier by the cute cat which was purring round our legs. I think this must have been an Egyptian feline as I saw it feasting on a plate of leftover food in the Egyptian passport control office on my return to Egypt. I spent rather a long time in there on the return journey as my lack of visa did not go unnoticed, butI will save that story for later.

Once through customs, I got an expensive but metered taxi to Eilat bus station, which was almost ten times the price of an Egyptian taxi. This made my haggling over the very minimal cost of Egyptian taxis seem rather futile. At least there were two of us to share the cost.

Even so we did not have enough money left out of the 100 LE which we had each changed to pay for the bus ticket to Jerusalem. As there was no money changer in the bus station and the bus was revving up impatiently I exchanged some dollars with an American tourist. The huge cost of things in Israel had come as a big shock! 100 LE is a lot of money in Egypt. You could by 20 kg of dates with that amount or an electric blender with change left over.

One of the best things about travelling for me is the people I meet. This is more interesting than the places I see. On this bus, for example, I met an American guy who had been living in Jerusalem for five years. He is a pianist in a prayer house. After hearing him talk about the many wonderful places to visit in Israel, I regretted having scheduled a dental appointment for a week ahead back in Egypt. A week was clearly not going to be enough to see all I wanted to see in Israel.

More later.