After all that, I found myself in Egypt

Waiting at the trainstation. The train of my first choice was full, the first available one is 5 hours later. Not much to do with my backpack with me. I'll go to the train museum and use my time to write.

People are talking to me constantly in the street. I try to stay relaxed, smile and ignore or stop and talk, depending on the moment. Most of them want to sell me something, some just seem to want to chat. I find that even when they just want to sell it can be fun to talk and see them work and try to find a way to get my attention or interest. Not many are able to make good conversation when I tell them about my trip and my ideas. Most of them keep repeating the same boring lines.

So this is how it goes. A man comes up to me in the street and says "Hello, welcome! Where are you from?" Then he knows some Dutch words and has been to Holland a few times. He has a shop nearby and invites me to come and see, and drink some tea. I come with him and meet his brother or son. He goes to get me tea and the brother/son tries to sell me flower essence. This happens to me three times in three days. The first shop is 178 years old and it really is a beautiful shop. We have a nice conversation and I buy the smallest bottle of Lotus oil. Unbreakable glass and cures all. When the one who brought me in comments on my sale in Arabic the other one says in English "He only bought it to help us". I find that funny because it is true. It somehow makes me feel respected and understood. The second time the man is a papyrus expert working in the Egyptian Museum (but the next day I meet him again on the street hanging around, he must have good working hours). He says he wants to show me his factory. So I come to see. But it really is just a shop for flower essence. His son is selling at the moment. Very weird.... because I saw this boy in the plane coming from Amsterdam! (even weirder: this happens less than 30 minutes after I met a Dutch girl who was on the same plane too) They travel to Zaandam each month for business. The third time it happens close to my hotel. Same recipy. It makes me laugh, I explain to the man why. He gets upset, I got it all wrong he says. The others are fake, only they have the real thing. I go with him, I don't even know why, maybe because its the third time and I can't believe it is really happening? But it does happen and it is exactly the same as the other times. His younger brother is in the shop and he shows me a picture of him with Mohammed Ali, friend of the family! He also shows me an entry in their guestbook, one of our prime ministers has been here too. But I'm really not buying anything. Its funny to see him realize this. Its funny because now the world reverses: its not me trying to get rid of him, but it is him trying to get rid of me! I drink my tea and he is wasting his time.

I'm drinking a coffee at the cafe in the station. Watching TV, Ramses is being transferred from his place here behind the station to his new place at Giza. Yesterday he was lifted, today he is still traveling. I photographed him two days ago fully packed, without knowing why he was like that. I will see him again when I go to Giza. I'll go after I come back from Alexandria. The waiter is making a joke, his colleague is named Ramses too, he points at him "little Ramses" then he points at the TV and says "big Ramses".

So I haven't seen the pyramids yet. I had dinner on my birthday in the revolving restaurant in the Cairo tower. On top of the tower, on the bridge and along the street back to my hotel I saw nothing but couples, talking, sometimes holding hands. Made me feel kind of alone. But I got my birthday present at the hotel. They have a table where you can sit, watch TV, have a drink or read one of the books left there by travellers. I opened a book by Dave Eggers. The first story begins with "I'd gone to Egypt, as a courier, easy". That was the perfect story to read on my birthday, alone, in Egypt.

I went to the Egyptian Museum, spent some time getting my visum for Sudan. Went to the Museum of Modern art. To be honest, I liked that better than the one with the old stuff.

Groeten, Jeroen