Blog Post Series: Adventures in Egypt, 2008
Title: A Bus to Nowhere: The Unexpected Turn to El-Alamin
Date: May, 2008
I left the enchanting embrace of Alexandria with a reluctant heart. The city had woven its magic around me, but the road was calling, and I knew my journey was far from over. The bus ride was typical of Egyptian travel - cramped, chaotic, yet filled with an indescribable charm. I had a ticket to El-Alamin, a name that echoed with the ghosts of WWII, a place I imagined as a solemn tribute to those who fell in battle.
But as the bus came to a halt on the side of a desolate highway, I was met with a reality starkly different from what my mind had painted. Instead of the reverent silence of a war cemetery, I found myself quite literally in the middle of nowhere, the air thick with the scent of desert dust. This was the essence of travel, wasn’t it? The thrill of the unexpected, the challenge of navigating the unknown.
With no clear signs or landmarks, I began walking, hoping to find some semblance of direction. That's when I stumbled upon an oasis of sorts - a golf course, with two security guards who looked as out of place as I felt. Their uniforms were drenched with sweat, and their faces bore the confusion of seeing a stranger in such an unlikely spot. Language was a barrier, but the universal gesture of offering tea broke through it. We sat in the shade, their faces lighting up with amusement as I attempted to draw a tombstone, trying to convey my destination.
After some time, Mardi, one of the guards, understood my plight. He offered to take me to El-Alamin, and soon we were on a local bus, passing through landscapes that seemed to blur the line between past and present.
El-Alamin, when we arrived, was a stark contrast to my expectations. The hotel from my guidebook was long closed, its sign barely visible under the cover of dust and neglect. The night was spent in a surprisingly decent room, where I ventured out to explore the cemetery. It was an eerie yet beautiful experience, walking among the graves, the air heavy with history, my camera capturing the fading light on silent stone.
But the night wasn't without its trials. The room was a battleground, not against history, but against an army of mosquitoes. I fought sleep, swatting at the incessant buzzing, my mind racing with thoughts of how differently my night might have gone had I camped among the tombstones.
The morning brought a sense of redemption. The sunrise over the graves was a quiet spectacle, and I met a security guard who thought I'd slept there - a thought that now seemed less absurd than it did in the night. Leaving El-Alamin, I felt a mix of relief and disappointment; the adventure was far from over, and each step forward was a lesson in embracing the journey, no matter how it unfolded.
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