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.