Hani the Hash Dealer: From Taba to Cairo

James and I in our bedouin van

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James and I arrived at the Taba border crossing at around noon.  Our plan was to take a bedouin taxi from Taba to Cairo.  My sister Laura did this with a few friends two years back; her words of wisdom were "it seems a lot sketchier than it is."  Haha. ha.  She didn't have Hani as her driver.

James and I were the first Cairo-bound travelers that arrived at the Bedouin taxi area; this meant we had to wait for more travelers before beginning our journey.  One guy from Canada arrived about 20 minutes after us, so we figured, hey, this should be fine. 

We started talking to Canada about his experiences in Cairo.  He was there to learn Arabic and meet his girlfriend's family, from what I gathered.  He proceeded to tell us about how insane Cairo (esp. the traffic) can be at times; in his first taxi ride his driver hit a donkey.

About an hour later, maybe more, a Japanese dude shows up.  And by that time we were very sweaty and hot and desperate for more people to show up.  By 2:00, nobody else came, so we finally proposed that we each pay an extra 25 pounds (about $5) to leave.  By 2:20 or so, we were on our way with Hani.  And of course since Canada was in the van, we almost hit a donkey in our first five minutes of the trip.  Fantastic.

Hani drove a rather run-down van with benches and no air conditioning - the AC was replaced with  wide-open windows blasting desert air in our faces.  Our saving grace?  The roads were really nice - no potholes, perfectly paved.   Impressive for a third-world country.  Otherwise, James would've suffered serious flashbacks from his recent trip to Mongolia, where his family drove for 12 hour stretches on dirt roads in dilapidated vans.

Hani was also a hash dealer, a fact we found out shortly into our trip.  And Hani lives in Suez, and apparently knows every single human being in Suez.  My friends and family kept saying 'if you take a bedouin cab, don't stop at the side of the road.  Just drive straight to Cairo.  Don't. Stop.'  But with Hani, this was not an option.  Too many 'habib's.'

After stopping once or twice for water or whatever else he needed, we stopped at a run-down restaurant in the middle of nowhere.  A friend's restaurant, methinks.  The stop took about an hour; I had my second experience with squat toilets (toilets that are basically built into the ground.  The squatting wasn't so bad, but nothing could capture the stench...); and declined hash for the third time or so.

By dusk, Hani made another major stop - but this time, we weren't sure why we stopped.  A couple matatu's (mini-buses) were pulled over at the side of the road; Hani pulled over and started speaking to a small crowd of Egyptian men, while families stood by idly.  We learned very quickly how temperamental Egyptian society can be: we heard lots of shouting, negotiating, arguing...and for what?  Drug deal?  Transportation problem?  Saying hello to some friends?  We had no idea whatsoever.  The stop took about a half hour, and it's unclear whether Hani accomplished anything.

James thrives on experiences such as these - opportunities to see cultures at their truest.  I can understand that, but my attitude was different: with no sleep from the night before, a sore bum, a huge desire to get to Cairo SOON, and increasingly anxiety about stopping at roadsides a LOT, I had little patience for such antics.  We finally left, stopped quickly to get mangoes at a stand, pulled over again at some point (this time, very quickly), and made it to Cairo by 10 pm - dirty, sweaty, sore, and exhausted.  What should have been a 6-hour drive turned into a 10-hour journey.

Before getting to our hotel, we switched drivers; Hani couldn't deal with Cairo traffic.  Understandably so; traffic lanes and signals and such are a mere suggestion.  People will sometimes loiter in busy streets.  Sometimes cars will drive in the opposite direction.  And the horns.  Oh, Egyptians love their horns more than any country I've visited.  And then there's the road rage.  We got a taste of that later on; for the time being, we got a good preview of Egyptian traffic.

For a while I had a hard time believing we were in a third-world country.  The roads are perfectly maintained; the government buildings are immaculate; the architecture is stunning at times, especially with regard to the mosques and to the richer districts of Cairo.  There were areas of Cairo that far outshine anything I've seen in Tel Aviv.  And then there was Anant and Aryan's hotel: the Sheraton Cairo, placed in the heart of the tourist district right along the Nile.  It was stunning inside, as are most of the hotels in the area.  After such a grueling journey, I was thrilled to arrive somewhere safe and beautiful.