Sunday, March 29, 2009

The Mental Patient from Aswan

The day started with a knock on my door waking me up at 2:45am. By 3:30am I was in a mini bus with 15 other people and surrounded by men with assault rifles, sub-machine guns, spike strips, and mirrors searching for bombs. Heading down to Abu Simbel has become a bit tense since it boarders Sudan and kidnappings and terrorist attacks aren't unheard of.

As we sit at the police checkpoint, I reflect on my situation. I've somehow managed to pick the worst seat on the minibus. A 90 degree seat with my knees jammed into hard plastic, my feet wedged sideways against a wheel-well and my head slanted by the ceiling. As I realize that I'm going to have to hold this yoga position for the next 3 hours, a wave of clostraphobia washes over me. Starting to panic and needing to get fresh air, I start clawing at the window. Open it does not. Always the gentleman, I then ask/tell the girl next to me to trade places. Well played August.

Feeling like an asshole I realize how I must appear to the rest of the mini-bus. A guy with crazy eyes and tuffs of hair coming out from his head is frantically clawing at the window. Winning friends and influencing people here in Egypt.

Luckily the sights of Aswan, Abu Simbel and Philae Temple are amazing.


Feluccas on the Nile

Armani Suits and Sub-Machine Guns. How very James Bond.

1 comment:

  1. Crazy eyes, wild tuffs of hair, clawing the window. They don't kidnap mental patients. Well played, August.

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