Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
itself. There must have been well over a hundred chairs placed facing the looming giant,
and every one of them was filled.
There were journalists, well-wishers, film crews, soldiers as well as the ambassadors of
all the countries I'd walked through, the British Ambassador John Casson, the governor of
Giza and of course the ministers of tourism and antiquities, and all of them stood to wel-
come me and bade me sit at the front with the glowing pyramids against a starry desert
night behind me.
I was overwhelmed by the incredible support I'd received, not to mention a little em-
barrassed by all the attention. I knew Egypt wanted to use my expedition as a means to
promote tourism and show the world that the country is safe, and, well, good on them. I
hope that the tourists do come back - Lord knows the Egyptians need them. So for all the
theatrics and political platitudes, I was truly humbled to have been received by so many
rather important people in the same spot that Napoleon and Alexander had once stood gaz-
ing up at one of the most magnificent human creations on the planet.
The ambassador, governor and ministers all gave short speeches in praise of my little
stroll and made gifts of more plaques to add to my luggage-allowance-burgeoning collec-
tion but it was the words of Ibrahim that meant the most to me.
'It isn't the walk that's important, or the politics, or what you show to your people, or
even the sense of achievement that you'll get - it's what you learn yourself, deep inside.
And I hope you've learned that Egyptians, like people everywhere along this great river
will look after you.'
I wanted to say that perhaps they had kept me too safe, but decided it was churlish, and
actually he had a point. Whatever people's politics or religion, I had been looked after, here
and elsewhere. In Sudan and further South it was the normal people that I had met day to
day that had shown me the importance of the kindness of strangers, without which I could
never have reached this historic place.
'Not far now, Lev. Are those legs going to make it?'
'They have to,' I said taking one last look behind towards the infamous Tahrir Square,
where the headquarters of the ousted President Mubarak still stood as a charred black skel-
eton, a symbol of a dark past, a revolutionary present and an uncertain future. Ahead, to the
north, the Nile unfolded through the suburbs, flanked by industry and progress and beyond
it, the delta I had dreamed of for so long. Behind me my police escort revved their engine
as a signal for me to get on with it.
We had lingered in Cairo for four days, but now it was time to leave. On the outskirts of
the city, Turbo drove on ahead to check the route and warn army roadblocks of our arrival.
It seemed that even with all the right paperwork in place you could never safely assume
that the message had been passed on. The police would be on my tail every step of the way
