I booked my ticket to Cairo the day before I left, choosing the Gobus company and an economy bus, and out of sheer bloody-mindedness, I selected the first empty seat my eye saw on the computer screen in the booking office; right behind the driver. It seemed like a good idea at the time.
Once I was allowed to know which bus I was assigned to, Egyptian bus operators apparently believe that such things are state secrets, or at least telling tourists is a sign of weakness, and pretended not to speak English to the staff who thought throwing my bag into the hold was worthy of considerable funds transfer, we got on our way.
The passenger seats were set up numerous steps up from the driver’s seat, his entourage and the main door. With my seat being immediately behind, I had an exceptionally perfect view of the shenanigans of the chain-smoking drivers. They changed drivers seemingly at random, without bothering with niceties like pulling over or even slowing down. They argued over the music, which to my ear sounded like variations of pop-Arab and traditional Arabic music. Obviously, I preferred traditional but lacked the Arabic to voice my opinion, even if they would be inclined to consider it. The bus frequently redlined as it lane-split between other buses and heavy haulage trucks. After an hour, I decided for my own sanity, I should focus my attention elsewhere. Sadly, most of the view was just the semi-arid limestone landscape the highway was carved out of, and I ended up watching more YouTube while trying to keep my motion sickness under wraps.
At some point, our bus pulled over to drop off cold water bottles to Gobus workers who were busy stripping a bus which had apparently driven off the highway, and was damaged beyond repair and was resting awkwardly on the regolith. The first part of this process seemed to be a face-saving effort to spray paint over the Gobus logos, but it was obvious which company it had belonged to. After five minutes of supplying water and emotional support, we continued on our way.
Later, at a bus stop in the middle of nowhere, I spotted several trucks carrying large blocks of limestone, which my caffeine-starved brain made me wonder where they were being sent to and for what construction project needed such massive blocks when concrete seemed to be the main building material for the last half century. Once again I regretted not learning any Arabic; I suspect a conversation with one of the drivers would have been interesting, and bagging a lift in one of the trucks would be a nice change.
In the small hours we arrived in Cairo, and pulled into the same dusty lot I had become so familiar with. I promptly risked my life crossing traffic towards the Gobus office, and among the flotsam of the homeless and their dogs sleeping on the grass, I waited for my Uber. After my first stay in Cairo, I was committed to staying somewhere nicer, and my hotel was in the nicer side of Downtown Cairo, the building had a working elevator, and the hotel a complicated check-in process, but the room was air-conditioned and comfortable.
Adrian's Got The Moose 