Car 3, Seat 16

The kind owner of the New Memnon made the arrangements and sent a driver to retrieve my ticket.

The 935 for Cairo would depart the Luxor Station at 12:30PM, or thereabouts.

Tayip arrived on good time, delivering me to his friend Ahmed,

who ferried me across the Nile

to the public dock on the far side.

From there, it was a short ride with Mahmoud,

who handed me off to Thomas

who, in turn, accompanied me to the 935, Car 3, Seat 16.

It’s a ten hour journey to Cairo, more or less, with frequent stops to take on passengers,

most bound for the capital city.

There was ample time to enjoy the countryside,

and the daily life in between.

Time to nap as well, and to appreciate those left behind.

Ibrahim,

who did his best to educate me about the past.

The young soldier,

a university grad with a degree in design, his compulsory service nearly complete.

Sayed, owner of the Maratonga Cafe,

who invited a young Chinese couple to share my table.

“We must all share in this world,” he told them.

Quentin and his wife live in Djibouti,

employed by a company that builds ports and shipping facilities.

Someday they’ll return to their families and their hometown near Beijing.

Mohamed, owner of the Paris restaurant,

who introduced me to his barber,

his young assistant who prepared our shisha,

invited me to a surprise birthday party,

and had his wife fit me with a quite comfortable galabeya.

Hassan, a very dear man and proprietor,

who prepared an oil to better my sleep,

and introduced me to his brother,

a medical doctor and healer of the soul who knew much about mine.

And, of course, Hani,

who each morning at breakfast educated me on the politics of his country and the life of his people.

We arrived at Ramses Station, on time by Egyptian standards,

an able taxi man delivering me safely to downtown Cairo,

and the Le Claire.