A cyclist in Egypt
As I arrive in Cairo, I have just committed the worst violation of the world environmental cyclists' code of honor: I took an airplane. Although I had found a lot of good reasons to do so and even tried to morally offset my carbon dioxide emissions with Atmosfair, I feel guilty and resolve to use the bicycle for all remaining distances in Egypt.
Unfortunately, it is not that easy. Cairo is the first adventure. Commuting between suburbs and town center during the first days, I realize that the Egyptian capital's traffic system is solely designed for cars, cars and cars. Overflows flow over overflows, buses and trucks jostle into narrow tunnels, and bridges cross the whole city center. Every kilometer is a challenge, and I am deeply grateful for the small rear mirror that my father convinced me to install on my handlebars prior to my departure - it saved my life.
Omayed, Egypt's first biosphere reserve, is the next target. I decide to cycle there, and take the road through the Nile delta from Cairo to Alexandria. The river's old floodplain is not only flat, but also incredibly green and densely populated - every square meter is either cultivated or built on. In order to avoid the crazy traffic on the main highways, I choose the smaller backroads. Much to the irritation of the local police, however, that reacts nervously and makes up strange reasons to force me back on the heavily frequented highways. I give up and take a Chrismas bus to Alexandria.
A look in internet forums for world cyclists reveals that the situation seems to be the same - or even worse - for the Nile valley, the only road to Egypt's most famous tourist towns Luxor and Aswan. Since the terrorist attacks in 1997, individual travel is considered "too dangerous". Although the terrorists had only targeted tourist groups, even lonely cyclists now have to go with police convoys. I meet an angry Austrian cyclist in Cairo whose stories only circle around how he tried to avoid the many checkpoints on the road. That's not what cycling is about, I think, knuckle down and take the train.
I try it a last time, and successfully cycle from Cairo to Ismailia on the Suez Canal without being stopped. Cycling along the canal, however, is strictly forbidden - I have to exchange the amazing view of huge cargo ships cutting through the desert for a big, boring, straight desert road. And even there I am not left alone: Checkpoint officials amuse themselves by browsing through the pictures of my digital camera, and as I take lunch on a bus stop at the roadside, two friendly soldiers approach and tell me that I am not allowed to eat my Falafel here - it's army territory.
If it wasn't for South Sinai, I would probably have gone mad on the roads of Egypt. But the desert peninsula between Africa and Asia reconciles me. The road from Mount Sinai, where Moses reputedly received the ten commandments, to the diving and backpackers paradise of Dahab on the Red Sea passes through one of the most diverse landscapes that I have ever seen. Red granite mountains flank the road, bizarre rock structures compete for space with large stretches of white, yellow, brown and grey sand, and spectacular views await me on top of every hill. I could have spend days there - if I had just brought more water.
Egypt is not that bad for cyclists, I conclude, shooting photo after photo: You just have to stay off the mainland.
19.02.2006 22:49h
More Articles
|
More Stories from Egypt
More Pictures of Egypt
Map of Egyptand its Biospheres
(UNESCO site)
All Countries
Which nations have been or will be visited?
|
Travel Report
