All in all it's just a...nother brick in the wall

Last Friday I went to an Egyptian Pink Floyd tribute band called Paranoid Eyes. I admit, my hopes weren't high but it turned out they were brilliant. It was a bit surreal though. It was a tiny venue, and the members of Paranoid Eyes can't even have been born when Pink Floyd's greatest albums were released. The Wall was released in 1979, I was horrified to recall. Like many of my generation in the UK, The Wall was the album that introduced me to Pink Floyd. I was 14! I said to one of the friends I was with, I'm fascinated by how this even happened. What was the sequence of events that ended up with a group of young Egyptian men forming a Pink Floyd tribute band? As it happens, I'm hoping to find out, because I've invited them to play at our wedding celebration party and I'm going to ask. I'll let you know, or if you're coming to the wedding, you can find out for yourself. Most of the audience were young Egyptians, and they LOVED it. Egyptians are more emotionally open than British people, and they were really enthusiastic. I had no idea Pink Floyd had a fan base in Egypt. Amazing.

Paranoid Eyes playing at Room Art Space

Aside from hearing great music which is always good, this turned out to be a significant event for me because it made me realise how important my own history, background and culture are to me. There were three of us there brought up in Britain of a similar age (which of course now you can work out from the above information...) I asked one of them what age he had been when The Wall came out and we had a conversation about its influence on our younger selves. Later we had a conversation about who wrote Comfortably Numb. There are few people in Cairo with whom I could have had these conversations; Egyptian or other nationalities. What is this? I've asking myself since because it gave me a profound realisation. Is it as simple as having a shared culture? I've been here two years now and I still pore over British news and watch British TV. Sometimes this country feels so alien that I cling to my roots and my culture like a drowning person clinging on to a life raft and if I let go everything will be lost.

Most of my foreign friends here in Cairo haven't moved here permanently, so at some point they will be moving on either somewhere else or back to their 'passport' country. In fact, several friends have left this year. As far as I can tell, they don't miss Britain as much as I do, and think this is because either they know they're going back (or at least believe it's an option). For me, this is a permanent situation. My husband has five children who live here in Egypt. There is no way I could even ask him to leave them and move to the UK, and to be honest I think he would hate it there anyway, for many reasons. So I am here for the duration; I can't have my husband and live in the UK. So I live in Egypt.

I am a resourceful and independent person. I have a life here in Egypt, a job, friends of many nationalities, a home, cats, interests. I'm happy with this life and I'm lucky to meet so many different people. But sometimes, I miss wall to wall green. Rain, cold, snow. Icy winds. All of which I complained about when I lived in Britain. I miss British trees and lakes and rivers. I miss having a shared culture and history and background with most of the people I meet. I miss not having to explain anything much because people just know it. So, to my closest British friend (and Pink Floyd fan) here in Cairo (who knows who he is), I hope you know how important you are to me. As well as being my confidante, shoulder-to-cry-on and person who makes me laugh most (I still swear you're trying to kill me by making me laugh when I'm drinking something), thank you for being my friend.

"The truth is you don't know what is going to happen tomorrow. Life is a crazy ride, and nothing is guaranteed".

The quote in the title of this post was by Eminem, one of our the greatest modern poets. I'm not so keen on the music but the lyrics are incredible. Anyway, this isn't about Eminem, it's about my last few weeks, which really have been a crazy ride.

I was in the pub one night with a few friends, and one of my team texted to ask if I had heard the news about my fellow manager in Exams. "What news?" I said anxiously. "He's broken his leg". "Whaaaaaaaaaaat!" I shrieked. It was true. At the worst possible time of the year, a the beginning of the May/June exam session, he'd broken his leg which resulted in an operation to put eight pins in. So not a trivial break either. Our boss was due to go on holiday the next day, and then on a course in the UK, so I was the only manager in Exams AGAIN. It all went downhill from there really.

The very next day, we had been due to go to Alexandria for a pre-exams, motivational team building trip. We were going to cancel, but Mr Broken Leg (MBL) as he shall be henceforth be named for reasons of anonymity, insisted that we go without him, so we did. Actually, it was great. I arranged a selfie treasure hunt (a list of bizarre objects that the team have to get into a photo with themselves). Egyptians LOVE selfies. It was much more of a success than I expected and the ingenuity and creativity of the team caused a lot of hilarity. I do love our team in Exams, they're one of the best teams I've ever worked with. It's just as well, because work has been a complete nightmare since, having to do several jobs at once at the busiest time of the year (by miles). I hope this doesn't come across as a moan, I don't mean it to. In many ways, it was exciting and exhilarating, but it was also more stressful than I can convey. But MBL is now back at work a couple of days a week, and the exam session is finished, so I'm hoping things will calm down. And I am really lucky because I do love my job.

In the midst of all this, I've had some health issues. I went to see a certain type of doctor, as a result of which I had a bone density scan, a mammogram, a smear test, some ultrasound and a load of blood tests. The outcome of all this is that I don't have breast cancer but I do have osteopenia, and I am past the menopause. Why is it called the meno-pause by the way? What exactly is pausing? Anyway, I went through a short period of depression about the osteopenia, mainly caused by looking online (yes I know - fatal) and seeing pictures of grey haired older women "leading happy healthy lives despite osteoporosis". What? I'm only 51 FFS! Well I was then, I'm 52 now. Maybe I've crossed the Rubicon into old. Luckily, I have amazing friends and family who pulled me out of the blues and now I have a plan. Finding out so early is a good thing, because you can build new bone. Sadly it involves eating less cake, amongst other things.

I've also had a completely new experience. There have been some ructions in our expat group. It's a long story to which I may dedicate a whole post to one day, but at the moment I'll summarise by saying that someone joined our wider group and created complete mayhem. The latest is that myself and my closest friend in Cairo weren't invited to a mutual friend's cocktail party, because if we had gone, three of her other friends wouldn't have gone. I mean, seriously? Are we all six or something? We can't possibly all like each other in life, but can't we all at least act civilly? Apparently not. My own personal transgression, I found out the other day, was because I spoke to Internations because events were frequently being posted by one of the three people mentioned above, where women wearing hijab were not allowed. Internations kindly told her I had complained, but I mean, seriously? This is a Muslim country! Those of you who know me well will know that I can't bear discrimination or inequality, so I took a stand. And now I'm not being invited to a cocktail party. Fortunately, I have plenty of real friends in Cairo who SUPPORT me for standing up for what I believe in. I'm pretty impressed though to have reached this age without actively not being invited to something. I can tick it off my bucket list of "slights to receive before you're sixty".

On the positive side, I really do have incredible friends here. Sadly, some of them are leaving soon, but I honestly hope we can manage to keep in touch. We've also made the decision to move out of Mokattam. Much as I love living here, it's just too inconvenient. We're hoping to move to Zamalek, which will be a stone's throw from work, and it's a bit of an expat haven, full of western style shops and restaurants. It'll be a bit more expensive, but I won't have the transport costs (easily my biggest expense here) and so many of my friends live there. I also won't have the hideous commute to and from work, breathing in the fumes every day.

Beautiful Alexandria

We had a lovely little short break to Alexandria a couple of months ago. Despite my accident prone-ness in Alexandria, I do love it and it was great to spend some time together just chilling and breathing in the sea air.

Egypt can be a difficult country for expats, but it is truly an incredible country in so many ways, and this is what keeps me going during difficult times. Most Egyptians are the kindest and friendliest people you could meet, with a great sense of humour. Some of my work colleagues have me in stitches at times. You can get anything delivered at any time of the day or night. You can buy things over the counter in the pharmacy that you have to get a prescription for in the UK (and every second shop is a pharmacy). The fruit and vegetables are incredible, especially the watermelons which are in season at the moment yay! I love Egyptian food. It was so beautiful during Ramadan, everywhere was decorated with lights and Ramadan lanterns. Unfortunately I missed the feast at the end of Ramadan due to an emergency trip back to the UK, more of which another time.

To quote another song writer - life's what you make it, and I'm doing my best to made it good.

Celebrate good times, come on!

I was listening to a podcast the other day by Sundae Schneider Bean, an expert in the whole expat/living abroad thing. The podcast was about celebrating successes, even tiny ones. A lot of the time, I find myself feeling frustrated about what I can’t do yet, or my lack of progress in certain things such as learning Arabic. So the podcast got me focused on my successes since I moved to Egypt, which, believe it or not, was 18 months ago.

My most recent success happened just the other day. The Cairo International Book Fair was on, so I arranged to go with a few friends. It's at a place described as “Nasr City Fair Grounds”. Despite searching online and on Google maps, I just couldn’t work out where this place is, which makes things more difficult with Uber because you can’t put the destination in. So the options are to get an Uber with an unclear destination (always a risk because generally they haven’t got a clue where they’re going and can’t use the GPS), or get a taxi. In such situations I did what I always do – I rang my husband and asked him to speak to the taxi driver. He refused. He said if I tell you what to say, you can say it to the taxi driver. The pressure! Having to say new Arabic words to a taxi driver and risk that completely blank look! Anyway, I did it. He told me the words and I said them to the taxi driver, who understood, and sped us off to the book fair. Where I spent too much money on books, predictably.

I was inordinately pleased with this success, even though it may seem tiny. Arabic is a hard language to learn for a native English speaker for many reasons, so it’s daunting trying to speak new words when it really matters, especially as Arabic has some sounds that English doesn’t. For example, there’s one letter that sounds like you’re trying to swallow an A. I tried to say Ma’adi to a taxi driver once, and it took him about 5 minutes to understand me because of this letter. We spent the rest of the journey with him drilling me to say it properly – without much success it would have to be said.

It’s all got me thinking about how much Arabic I do actually know, and I surprised myself again. As mentioned above, a lot of the time I feel frustrated by my lack of progress. I think it’s because of the huge number of other things I’ve had to adjust to; my brain can’t take learning a new language on top of all that. Having said that, when I think about it, it’s surprising how many words I know. Inevitably, most of the words are the ones I need to live an independent life in Cairo, but I have learned quite a lot of others. Some of them are even useful, especially for scaring the living shit out of my team when they think I can’t understand them (laughs evilly…)

As well as the small successes with the language, there are many other things I can do which terrified me to begin with. I look back at my early blogs, and buying toothpaste was a challenge. I have lots of small shops where I live, and I like to shop in them. I can buy fruit and vegetables (and ask for a bag), and most other groceries. The only shop I have a problem with is the butcher, because I don’t know the words yet. So I buy most of my meat from the supermarket. I can ask for a kilo of mince though (which turns out to be quite a lot of mince). I’ve found a clothes shop which sells really good clothes for work, and it’s not even an expensive Western shop in one of the malls. It’s a proper Egyptian shop. For the first time in my life, I own a cat. In fact I own three cats. This resulted in a number of new challenges; finding a vet, a pet shop, a cat sitter, and a driver prepared to transport cats.

I’ve travelled all over Cairo by myself, in Ubers and taxis. I’ve got the train to Alexandria on my own (not without incident as you’ll know from my previous blogs). I can cross the road on my own (a significant achievement in this city I can tell you!) I don’t feel inclined to drive in Cairo, and I haven’t managed to get the metro yet, but all in good time.

The incredible Mohamed Ali alabaster mosque

Probably my most important successes have been about building my life here in Cairo, and part of this has been because I forced myself to get out there and meet people. Obviously I’ve got my job, but the majority of my social circle aren’t people from work. I’m an Internations consul for the Arts & Culture group, and also The Written Word. I’ve been to parts of Cairo that most tourists don’t get to, because they spend two days seeing the Pyramids and the Egyptian Museum then move on somewhere else. It’s a shame, because Cairo has layer upon layer of history and is absolutely full of fascinating places and hidden gems. The writers’ and readers’ groups have become extremely important to me, in fact discovering that I can write stuff that people want to read is a complete revelation, and probably a bit more than a small success. I have been published! And my article in Egyptian Streets was trending for a while! I have a small circle of close friends that I see regularly, in fact I go out a lot more than I used to when I lived in Britain.

I’ve managed to get through a lot of physical and health challenges. Inevitably there have been stomach bugs (I’ve definitely had e-coli and giardiasis – the latter of which made me ill for weeks). I battled all summer with heat exhaustion; I’ve discovered my tolerance for heat is extremely low, and I need to take twice daily rehydration sachets. I know this because of another success – I’ve found my own GP. Well they don’t really have GPs here, I just call him my GP because he said I can come and see him about anything. I picked him because he had a kind face, which turned out to be a highly effective strategy. I’ve also had to go to the hospital to have my trigger thumb dealt with and also when I had the giardiasis because it gave me acute gastritis. I’ve also been getting more migraines, probably because of the heat, but I’ve dealt with that too. It really does help that you can get the drugs delivered right to your door by a guy on a moped.

And on that subject. You can get absolutely anything delivered to your door in Cairo. There’s a brilliant app called Otlob with all the restaurants that deliver, including a pudding restaurant. I remember the first time I plucked up the nerve to order – my shawarma and chips arrived half an hour later. I do realise that being able to have pudding delivered to your door any time of the day or night is not necessarily a good thing, which is why I’ve now got myself a personal trainer and have started going to the gym. I feel like I’ve got to the stage where I can start focusing on something other than just surviving the day to day challenge of living and working in a country with a fundamentally different culture.

A friend asked me the other day if I feel settled here in Cairo, and I would have to say that I don’t. It’s not an either/or situation though; every day that goes by, with the small and the big successes, makes life here less strange and more normal. I’m pretty sure I’m close to the stage where the normal outweighs the strange. There are a lot more good days than bad days, and it is truly a privilege to live in a city that is riddled with multiple layers of culture and history. A friend told me recently that she really admires how I’ve built my life here in Cairo; and two friends have said to me how much they appreciate the effort I put into the Internations groups. Both these things made me feel all warm and fuzzy.

So I think I’ll stay. For the time-being, anyway.

Best laid plans and false economies

Chico, being an affectionate cat, likes to lie on my chest and be cuddled. Unfortunately, he also likes digging his claws in while he’s there. My chest has started to look like crazy paving, so I thought it was time to get his claws clipped. Mishmish is a bit less keen on being cuddled, but does love to lash out occasionally, so I decided he could do with getting his claws clipped too.

I’m having a bit of trouble with vets. Whilst there are plenty of them in Cairo, many are not at all well regarded, and on top of that there’s the language issue. Initially, I took Mishmish to a lovely guy in New Cairo to have his gunky eye looked at, but every time I have tried to make an appointment since he has been mysteriously unavailable. Then a friend recommended one in Ma’adi. He turned out to be a wonderful vet. He’s clipped Chico’s claws, snipped Mishmish’s balls, and whipped out Shams’s reproductive system, as well as dealing with worms and ear mites (Shams was on the streets for a while). He also diagnosed and treated a urinary tract infection after Mishmish escaped for 24 hours and had some adventures. I feel it’s best that I don’t know the details.

The problem is that Ma’adi is a long way from where I live, so I was thinking there must be a closer vet who can deal with this minor issue. It’ll take less time and money because I won’t have to go to Ma’adi and back. I had noticed one not too far away from home, so I went on a recce. It seemed fine, and they also sold the brand of food that the cats eat. Even better, I thought. I went one day after work. As usual, both cats were extremely unimpressed to be in cat boxes and I had to listen to synchronised angry miaowing all the way to the vet.

When I conducted my recce visit, there was no-one else there, so I was rather taken aback to find the waiting room was full of dogs. Oh well, I thought, I’m here now so I might as well stay. There was a small white dog, a husky puppy, a teenage golden retriever and a tiny baladi (“local”) puppy. Each animal seemed to have at least three human attendants. The retriever, true to breed, wanted to say hello to everyone, humans and animals alike. The husky puppy and the small white dog did NOT want to stay hello back. The trouble is, in doggy language, saying “hellooooooo! Talk to meeeeeeee!” and “fuck off out of my face you gigantic monster!!!!” sound pretty much the same. Thankfully, the baladi puppy just looked on with interest and took notes for the future.

Needless to say, Chico and Mishmish continued their synchronised angry miaowing, combined with frantic scratching by Mishmish. The retriever had to say hello to them too, obviously, which at least resulted in some variety in the cacophony – a bit of hissing and yowling. Chico loves a good yowl.

At 16.52 I texted my husband to tell him that Mishmish was being really embarrassing. At 17.13 I told him I was still waiting. By 17.59, all time savings gained from not going to Ma’adi had disappeared. I passed the time by studying the other customers, who were all Egyptian. A few more came in during my interminable wait, all with Persian cats. Mine are all rescued baladi cats. There are thousands of street cats and dogs in Cairo; many of them in the animal shelters around the city. They are intelligent and full of character. They make wonderful pets if they are lucky enough to be rescued - many of my foreign friends have rescued baladi animals. So I really can’t understand why most Egyptians won’t entertain having a baladi animal as a pet. Apart from the tiny puppy, every one of the other ten animals I saw at the vet were pedigree. All the cats were Persian. Two customers with one of the Persians did show an interest in Chico and Mishmish, but maybe it was just disbelief that someone would give a home to baladi cats. It really perplexes me because I would much rather have my three than any overbred pedigree animal.  

Aggressive? Moi?

Eventually, it was our turn. I took the now even angrier cats into the surgery and told the vet what I wanted. I intimated that both cats could show some aggression when being messed with. She asked which would be easiest. I said Mishmish, because he’s smaller.

The other time Chico has had his claws clipped was at the vet in Ma’adi. It was such an efficient process that I realise, with hindsight, that I subconsciously assumed that there’s a module in vet school called “How To Deal With Angry Cats”. If this module exists, it’s obviously optional. I have never seen such a circus in my life. Mishmish did not want to have his claws clipped. First the vet and her nurse tried a towel. Then they tried this bag thing where you zip the cat up and are supposed to be able to extract one cat leg at a time. The problem is, you have to get the cat into the bag. Mishmish was having none of it. Eventually the vet called in the bloke from reception who basically pinned Mishmish to the table with a towel over his head. Success! One cat done. I apologised to the vet and said maybe I’d got it wrong, Mishmish would be harder after all. Oh how I wish I had kept my gob shut.

Did I just see claw clippers?!?

The vet and the nurse got Chico out. I realised that a fundamental error had been made; he’d seen everything that had happened to Mishmish. As soon as he was out of the box he leapt off the table. They got him back on the table. He tried frantically to get into the cat box for the first time ever. They removed the cat box. They produced the towel. He leapt off the table again, ran round the room, went under the desk and hid behind a pile of filing boxes. The vet held the cat box open and miraculously he rushed into it. Back on the table. Cat bag. They’ve got him in the cat bag! One leg out. Claws clipped. The bag is too small, they can’t get the other back leg out. They open the bag. Chico vaults over the vet and races round the room. His tail is like a loo brush. I eventually coax him back out from under a chair. The bloke from reception is called back in, along with another nurse. A further 12 claws are clipped before he escapes again. Only three more claws to go. We can do this, people. Final effort. The bloke from reception, the vet and one of the nurses basically lie on top of him with one leg sticking out. The second nurse rushes in with the clippers. Last three claws done! To prevent another escape (after all he doesn’t know they’re finished), they put the open box right next to him and he rushes straight into it, and we slam the door in triumph. We’re all drained. I apologise to everyone several times.

The vet says Chico needs to have his claws clipped more often, they were far too long. I am incredulous. She’s prepared to go through that AGAIN? How often? I say. Monthly, she says, and suddenly realising the implications, looks completely horrified.

I rush out. Pay (leaving massive tip). Go home. Let the cats back out of their boxes. The whole exercise took two hours and 25 minutes. No time saved. Five humans and two cats traumatised. And they didn’t even have any of the food! I’m going to Ma’adi next time.     

How to get attention: Four methods to try at home

Recently, I have been learning a lot about getting attention, and I'd like to share my new knowledge with you all. Here are four methods I have identified. I hope you find this useful.

Method 1: The Shams

1. Miaow piteously until some one picks you up.
2. Miaow piteously until they put you back down again.
3. Miaow piteously until they pick you back up.
4. Repeat until bored.

Method 2: The Chico (paws and teeth method)

1. Gently put a paw on the leg of the person who's attention you want.
2. If this doesn't work, extend your claws a bit.
3. Then a bit more. This is particularly effective when your claws need clipping.
4. If this still doesn't work, bite them on the arm. Hard. It is guaranteed that this will work.

Method 3: The Chico (head method)

1. Jump on their lap. 
2. If they are using their laptop, make sure to trample on the keyboard. If you're really lucky, you'll end up sending an inappropriate message to someone on Facebook Messenger. 
3. If they're not using their laptop, stretch yourself so your head is right under their chin and stick your claws in their chest.
4. If this doesn't work, stretch slightly further and whack your head as hard as you can on their face - the nose is ideal. 

Method 4: The Mishmish

1. Subtlety is a total waste of time. 
2. Miaow as loudly as you can, as close to their ear as possible.
3. Simultaneously, leap on their lap with your claws extended and dig them in as soon as you land. Throw in a bite if a biteable area comes within reach during the process.
4. If there are hot drinks around, so much the better.
5. Look surprised and affronted when you are immediately thrown off (this is critical) and stalk off in a huff. Batter your step sister round the head as you're passing for good measure.

Feeling hot, hot, hot (and not in a good way)

I'm not doing terribly well with my objective to write a new blog post every two weeks. Sorry about that, my only excuse is that due to the exam session, it's been unbelievably busy. Maybe every two weeks was a bit optimistic. On top of that, one of my cats (more about that later) knocked my laptop on to the floor and it took me ages to get it fixed. I think things are back on track now though.

First I want to report some sad news. My lovely Bracken died. You may remember I wrote a letter to Bracken in a previous blog post. I am devastated obviously, as are my Mum and Dad. She had quickly become part of their lives. I think she made it to the grand old age of 17 but I never knew her actual birthday so I can't be sure. She was an incredible little dog anyway. She hardly suffered at all at the end, and my Mum and niece were with her until the end. I still miss her dreadfully.

So - what's been happening? Well it's been around 40 degrees in Cairo for months. I am not coping well. Obviously I was expecting it to be hot, but I must admit the extent of the impact on my physical health has been a real shock. I have a permanent headache, aching joints, tingling sensations from head to toe and I could just sleep and sleep and sleep. I've felt so crap some days that I've actually been off sick from work. I feel like I drink gallons of water but I probably don't (water is so boring) and I could probably drink more, and being honest a bit less coffee would probably help too. It's not just the water though apparently - it's the salts. So I've also been taking re-hydration sachets. It doesn't help that the air conditioning in our office doesn't work properly - although to be fair I got an unexpected but welcome shower from it this morning. I always knew my equilibrium had really narrow parameters, so obviously my body's tolerance to heat is pathetic. To be fair I'm not designed for heat, being from Scotland and having the palest skin it's possible to have, and red hair of course. Apparently one does acclimatise so I'm hoping that by 2025 I'll be fine!

Mishmish

I now have three cats. Yes, three. I still have Chico, I have a kitten called Mishmish who although blind in one eye doesn't let that get in the way of being a complete troublemaker, and as of a few weeks ago I have another kitten that my husband has named Shams (Arabic for sun). As I have mentioned before, Egyptians aren't too hot on animal welfare in comparison to the UK. There is a tendency with some Egyptians to get a pet and then abandon it when it starts costing money. Shams was found wandering around outside our apartment block, crying pitifully. One of our neighbours rescued her but he couldn't take her permanently, so he spoke to A, who amazingly came and asked me if I wanted to take her! I say amazingly because he's not too keen on the other two. He's really taken with Shams though. She's beautiful in both looks and personality, as you can see from the photo. Mostly the three of them get on OK. Mishmish wasn't happy about Shams to begin with but now it's a total love fest. I'm really happy about this because he needed a friend to play with, and the pair of them spend their lives cuddling up, wrestling or racing round the apartment chasing each other. Mishmish also has a tendency to attack Chico's tail while he's asleep, and gets his ears boxed for his troubles. Chico isn't keen on Shams at all and can get a bit aggressive, and I'm convinced it's jealously. Cat politics. I never knew it was so complicated.

Shams

My job is still going really well (Insha'Allah - see I'm becoming Egyptian!) I do love it and feel like I'm doing a job which makes an actual difference to real people. For example one of my colleagues held an Iftar (the fast breaking meal during Ramadan) for some local orphans during Ramadan. There are many orphans in Egypt unfortunately and because of Sharia they don't have many prospects for a happy life. It was an amazing event, but I only know this because I saw the photos. I couldn't bring myself to go because I knew I'd never cope with the plight of the orphans. Looking at the photos was bad enough. So I do my job in Exams and feel thankful that the British Council does amazing work in Egypt and all over the world.

Chico

I'm still going to Writer's Group and Reading Group, both of which have been the foundation for my social life, and more importantly, finding true friends here in Egypt. Unfortunately with this expat life they tend to leave, and two good friends have left already for new challenges. But there is so much to do in Cairo that you could live here for a lifetime and still not see everything. Which is just as well, as I'm planning to live here for a long time.

My husband is in the process of renovating four apartments in Downtown Cairo into a hotel. Whilst extremely stressful, particularly for him, it's a very exciting project. I'll keep you posted.

 Can you believe that I have lived in Cairo for over a year? Goodness what a lot has happened in that time. I know this blog post probably doesn't contain as much Carol "spice" (as a good friend calls it) as normal, but I want you all to know that despite the frequent challenges and many many differences between Britain and Egypt, I do love it here (mostly). I love my husband, I love my stepson, I love my apartment and my cats, I love the warmth, friendliness and humour of Egyptians, I love my job, I love living in a place which is genuinely steeped in layers and layers of history just waiting to be discovered. I have managed the challenges with the support of my families here and back in the UK, and my incredible friends across the world. And Facebook and WhatsApp. Couldn't do without them.

Another story of another trip to Alexandria

Those of you who have known me a long time will remember that a few years ago, I spent six months travelling to and from Amsterdam on a weekly basis. I'm incident prone at the best of times, but there was something about Amsterdam that amplified it. I lost count of the number of times I tripped, fell, lost things, lost myself and got the time zones confused. One time on the metro someone actually fell on me. I'm beginning to think that Alexandria is going to turn out to be the same - maybe I should avoid cities beginning with A. In fact Alexandria seems to be worse - as well as being incident prone, it seems to turn me into a ditzy idiot. Just read my last post if you don't believe me.

It started before I even got to Alexandria. According to our travel agent at work, all the hotels we use were full. I really needed to go this week, so I looked into airbnb and checked with my boss who approved it. Found somewhere that was walking distance to the office, had WiFi (essential) and was described as 'luxury'. It seemed a bit pricy to me but then maybe that's what luxury costs in Alexandria I thought. And I've never used airbnb before so I had no idea what was a reasonable price to pay. It also could sleep six so that would put the price up, I supposed.

I set of from work in my Uber to catch the 14.00 train. Unlike last time, my ticket was for the right day. So far so good. Got on the train. As I was catching up on my social media, one of my team called. "Carol, your laptop is sitting here on your desk. Did you mean to take it with you?" I rummaged in my laptop bag. No laptops present. Honestly. I could hear them all laughing in the background.

 

I did manage to get off at the right station in Alexandria for the first time, so things were looking up. Needless to say, not for long. It was only a 15 minute walk, and it was a lovely, sunny, fresh day in Alexandria. So I decided to walk. What I was forgetting, of course, was the fact that the pavements in Egypt are shit. So dragging your wheelie case along loose paving stones, sand, gravel and numerous other obstructions isn't a pleasant experience. This is when you can actually get on the pavement - half the time you have to run the gauntlet with the traffic because there are cars parked on the pavement. My right arm ached by the time I found the apartment.

 

When the doorman opened the apartment door, I was slightly taken aback by the huge, old fashioned dining room table and chairs. Oh well I thought, I can live with antique furniture for two nights. The doorman put my case in the bedroom and left. My initial impressions were not good. It looked pretty tatty to me for something described as 'luxury'. I couldn't get the air conditioning to work, that was the first issue. Then the person who I was in contact with called me. I asked for the WiFi password. She said "there is no internet". "But I specifically chose this place because it says there is WiFi" I said through gritted teeth. She repeated that there was no internet at all. Right, I thought, well I'll just have to make the best of this.

  

I went to the toilet. The shower curtain rail was falling off the wall. Hmmm I thought. Still making the best of this although the best is becoming increasingly hard to find. There was no loo roll. And no towels. I wondered if I had messed up here - are these things not provided in airbnb properties? I would have to have a closer look (and I'd have to go shopping for loo roll and a towel).

 

The wardrobe was a gigantic, old fashioned walnut affair. I opened the door so I could hang up my work clothes. It fell off - on to me. If I hadn't reacted quickly it would have landed on me, as it was it hit me on the arm. Gosh, I thought. This isn't going as planned. Some instinct made me throw back the duvet. It was covered in stains. I actually gagged. F**k making the best of this! I went straight on to airbnb to complain, and while I was waiting for their site to respond, I looked on booking.com. Well there were loads of places and I have no idea why our travel agent couldn't find anywhere. I will be having a conversation with them on this very subject when I get back to the office next week. I booked into the Sheraton which was cheaper than all the hotels I had tried to book in that were full. Called another Uber. Went to the Sheraton. God, the relief. Nice room, air conditioning, WiFi, loo roll, towels. Intact shower rail. And a fruit bowl. And room service. And BEER in the mini bar.

While I was in the Uber on the way to the Sheraton, airbnb rang me, and I have to say I was extremely impressed. They were full of apologies and said numerous times that this "hardly ever happens!" They had also noted that this was my first airbnb experience, and it hadn't gone well (to say the least). They asked me to send the photographs I had taken of the wardrobe door, the stains (barf) and the shower. I did this, and shortly after I arrived in the Sheraton, my money had been refunded. Not only that, they gave me a voucher for another stay, to the value of this stay! I was well impressed. As they have handled my complaint so amazingly well, I'm definitely going to give them another go. Maybe not in Alexandria though, or any other cities beginning with A.

My worry is that I still have another 44 hours before I leave Alexandria (this is assuming I go to the right station and get on the right train), so goodness knows what might happen between now and then. However, for tonight at least, all’s well that ends well. These are the views from my hotel room. Not half bad.

Post blog note - I checked on airbnb after I wrote this and discovered that the apartment should have included loo roll and towels. Sigh.