Dusty Dusty Arabia

So after several careless stamping mistakes from sleepy Egyptian passport officials, a demanding check-in desk man requesting my father's credit card and a very strong and frankly overpriced filter coffee in the joy that is Sharm El Sheikh airport, we touched down in Al Eskanderia. I was picked up by a beautiful, bubbly chemistry Egyptian professor from the city's university, a contact from my auntie's arabic year abroad "back in the day" (apologies for that one). She gave me a whirlwind tour of the city and its surrounding area, before dropping me off at the hostel where my classmates had already installed themselves in one of the most enchanting, decrepit, yet majestic buildings I have ever slept in. All of the buildings seem to be on the brink of collapse, crumbly and precarious, yet exude a charm which pulls you into their endless winding alleyways, I'm going to stop there before I go fully blown Thomas Cook on you all. 

Bags dumped, grabbed two 20p falafel sammiches and jumped in a taxi for a rickety, adrenaline-rocketing journey to the institute where I'll be soaking up the ancient language 4 days a week. It's a bit of a hidden gem, a peaceful haven of air-conditioned classrooms and quiet gardens away from the murderous traffic of the city, off a desert highway about 30 minutes outside of the city centre. We spent the rest of the day wandering about, earning some free chocolate samples from some chatty iraqis and rehearsing a speech about nationalities/that we're studying arabic, but only "shweeya shweeya" (loophole/escape strategy for any overly complex conversations). The Corniche looks stunning as the light fades, street vendors blasting arabic pop across the pavement offering candy floss and ice-cream flow past, and I admit it felt like a bit of a chaotic dream. Finally here, and already enchanted by this confusing place. 

Off for some fried fish and traffic dodging. x