Söderut från Kairo följde vägen längs med Nilen – en gigant till flod som skapar en grön, levande ådra i annars död öken. Sömn i alltifrån kloster och kyrkor till polisens vägspärrar, med vägarbetare invid vägen och med herdar vid övergiven bensinstation. Underbara, smått kyliga kvällar och lagom varma dagar – knappt svettigt.

Unikt for sträckan visade sig den alltjämt välmenande polisen. Eskort av pickup bil med fyra-fem beväpnade poliser följde under kanske 300 av dom 1000 kilometerna till den sydligaste delen av landet. Tätt följandes efter cykeln, eller framför - inte minst i städer där dom ibland slog på sirenerna för att skingra folkmassor och bilar för min skull. Snudd på kungligt. Bättre blev det när dom en natt till och med bestämde sig för att låta myndigheten betala för en natts hotellboende – camping vid vägspärren utanför stan var inte säkert nog! Det finns helt enkelt en medvetenhet om hur mycket en död turist skulle påverka turistindustrin i landet.

Nu befinner jag mig i Aswan, södra Egypten, varifrån jag hoppas kunna ta båten till Wadi Halfa i norra Sudan (sydligaste Egypten är off limits för turister på cykel; militär zon). Där fortsätter sedan vägen utmed Nilen några hundra kilometer till innan den viker av för att gena över öknen till Khartoum.

Finally reach Aswan – again after having been escorted by police most of the day. From here, I hope to be let aboard the ferry come Monday, so that I can reach Wadi Halfa in Sudan on Tuesday. Insha’Allah. Stay at Noorhan Hotel.

Border details
Boat from Aswan (Egypt) to Wadi Halfa (Sudan): 320/286/262 Egyptian Pounds (Second class). 450/454 Egyptian Pounds (First class).
On board prices: dinner 10 EP, soda 2 EP.

Sleep some five kilometers before Silwa Bahari, together with four road workers. On a thin piece of dirt (maybe two meters wide) between the main tar-road and the busy railroad tracks, we sleep on pieces of cardboard, plywood and blankets. In the night, the workers make a delicious veggie stew on a camp fire; eat with bread. Late night talks. Thundering trains passing by every half hour or so. The blue of the Nile just barely visible behind the green palm trees on the fields on the other side of the railroad tracks. Beautiful!

The last 80 or so kilometers to Luxor is strangely different. Instead of the beautiful, agricultural landscape and rural activities of the past seven days, the government has decided to plant pink, red and orange flowers in abundance along the road. All because of the tourists – giving those traveling only around the largest tourist centers an awkwardly false – and rather dull – impression of a beautiful country. The green of the Nile Valley has been one of the most beautiful and interesting regions on this trip so far. And the very fact that the area has been cultivated like today for ages – even though irrigation techniques have developed – gives it all a historic touch. One that package tourists might not see.

Escort almost the entire day.

I first camp at a checkpoint, but the police later decides that it’s unsafe for me and say I have to stay in a hotel. When I refuse so, because I have a tent, the police decides to pay my hotel stay with some government money. Thank you Egypt! Again they put at least two or three policemen by the hotel entrance to guard.

Another stay at a Coptic church. There are three priests this time – black dresses, with white/greyish, long beard and black hats. I’m invited to share a wonderful dinner with them – home-baked bread broken in parts between us and a delicious green soup with a taste of roasted onion and a bit of lamb meet. I sleep on a wooden bench in the entrance hall.

The church is guarded by two or sometimes three policemen and thus acceptable as my place to hatch, even from the police’s point of view. If not, the police would find out about my stay there in the evening and come and take me to a safer place. During the day, I can hear them communicate on radios between the checkpoints and escort teams, and they know exactly what I do, where I am etc. I’ve even heard them specify what type of macaroni I was cooking for lunch at one time – ”spaghetti.” That must surely be essential information for them to be able to keep me safe! :)

Anyway, I’ve gotten armed police escort for some of the distances so far, but it seems to get more the further south I come.

A few kilometers before Asyut, I camp at a police checkpoint. I was first invited to a hospital nearby, but the police figured it not safe enough, came later in the evening and escorted me to the checkpoint. South from Cairo, I’ve occasionally been escorted by the police during the day, too. A police pick-up truck with four or so policemen, armed with Kalashnikovs, following me closely behind or sometimes – especially through cities – leading ahead, occasionally with the sirens on to get traffic out of the way. They’ve been extremely friendly and helpful most of the time, despite my slow pace.

Stay the night with Mohamed and his younger brother in the open air of a yet to be finished petrol station. Looks like the funds finished before the construction did. Mohamed herds and guards his family’s sheep and cows on a thin stretch of grass nearby – squeezed in-between the main road and another, smaller tarred road. Small fire in the night for the cold – it’s really chilly these winter days.

Sleep 2 kilometers before town Samalut.

10 kilometers before Beni Suef, I once again stay with the Coptic – this time at St Paul’s Monastery. I’m invited for great food – local bean stew ‘ful’ and other vegetable dishes (same as the three monks had themselves eaten just moments before I arrived). Late evening talks with younger community members, then sleep in a comfy bed. I tried to offer a small donation the following morning, as thanks for their hospitality, but they didn’t accept.

Thanks to father Bshoy, father Istafanous and bishop Gawargiuos.

Leave Sebastian after the most restful ten or so days I’ve yet had on this journey. The road south surprisingly quickly leaves urban Cairo behind – I’m relieved to not having to spend a whole day pedaling through traffic jams and exhaust fumes.

Early stay at Coptic Church (”der”).

Dagen jag lämnade Damaskus var märklig. Inte bara för ombytet från boendet hos Pascal (Tack!) på svenska ambassaden till livet på vägen, utan också då ‘regeringspolisen’ skuggade mig på motorcykel de sista 40 kilometrarna innan gränsen. Det hela slutade i boende på ett sjaskigt hotell i utkanten av Dar’a, och dessförinnan ett kortvarigt knivhot från en nervös man som tack och lov gav sig iväg då förbipasserande närmade sig.

Jordanien var vackert och emellanåt lika magiskt som namnet självt. Förbi historiska Jarash, Jordanfloden som numera vattnar plantage av bl.a. tomater och bananer – plantage som i sin tur täcker dalen i smutsbrun plast. Ett obligatoriskt dopp i salta Döda Havet och dusch efteråt i brännande het källa invid. Den fortsatta vägen söderut var ganska öde och trist, men tack vare god medvind fann jag mig snart i Aqaba – kustorten vid Röda Havet.

Resan över Sinai – den östra delen av Egypten som delar Röda Havet i Aqababukten i öster och Suezkanalen/bukten i väster – är ödslig, blåsig, långsam. Dock bjuder de få människorna jag möter – mestadels beduiner – på lika mycket mänsklig värme som landskapet bjuder dess frånvaro. Likadan är motorvägen från Suez till Kairo – snarast (halv-)öken hela vägen. Här i Kairo vilar jag nu ut hos tyska vännen och tillika långfärdscyklisten Sebastian (www.vom-wind-getragen.de) och ser fram emot en lång resa längs Nilen, ända till mellersta Sudan. Om den egyptiska polisen/militären tillåter, vill säga.

In Cairo, I’m greatly hosted by German cycling friend Sebastian (whom I first met on the road in Angola together with Japanese Mitch, when I was biking with Lina). I’ll stay here a few days to arrange visas for several countries ahead, then continue along the Nile River.

Seeing the pyramids was the one must-do in Cairo, I guess. It takes an hour to get there by bus – they’re located just where suburb Giza ends, with the vast desert landscape to the southwest.

Have a look at Sebastian’s website for his photos and writing from the cycling tour to South Africa (including a boat-trip along the Congo River!): www.vom-wind-getragen.de.

Information on Visa to Eritrea
6 El-Fallah, Mohandiseen
Referred me to their embassy in Khartoum, Sudan, although after finding out that the border Eritrea/Djibouti is closed, I’ve given this country up for good)

Information on Visa to Ethiopia
6 Abdel Rahman Hussein, Dokki
1 photo, 30 US dollar (no other currency accepted), 1 filled-in form. Got it the next day; valid for three months.

Information on Visa to Djibouti
15 Doctor Mohamed Abdou El-Said/near Doctor Mishi Bakhum/Nadi al-Sid intersection, Dokki
3 photos, 3 filled-in forms, one passport copy, 148 Egyptian pound. Got it after three working-days after much waiting at the embassy; valid for three months.

Information on Visa to Sudan
3 El-Ibrahimi, Garden City
2 photos, x filled-in forms, 100 US dollar.

By the highway, I’m invited by the four people staff of a roadside ambulance station to spend the night inside.

Long day across the flat lands of the Sinai. Wind, just like it has been ever since Nuweiba, is strong in my face. I pass the Suez Canal through the narrow Ahmed Hamdi Tunnel beneath on a lorry, and camp nearby the checkpoints on the west side of the canal.