A DEEP DIVE: Alexandria Part Two
A tuk-tuk jostles for space in Alexandria’s morning rain. Viewed through the taxi window.
I knew it was raining. I could smell it.
A sudden wave of nostalgia coursed through me and for a split second I thought I would cry. Funny how these things hit you. Funny how the smell of rain triggered a transportation to another place. The smell was different in Alexandria though - it was everything mingled in with it that I think made the difference - petrol fumes; dog shit; cooking smells; Turkish coffee; cigarette smoke; street fish stalls; Sheesha; the ocean … all creating an enforced marination for everyone around. The smells in Egypt get right into your skin - along with the dust.
A fish-monger selling the early morning haul.
I opened the french doors to my quaint little private balcony and cast my eyes over the street below.
Vehicles drove at their usual frantic pace spraying everyone who walked either side with filthy dirty water. I took note. It seemed to somehow add to the unease I had felt since arriving in Alex, that I could not shake. I needed coffee so donned my puffer and stepped out into the blustery weather in search of that miracle liquid.
Weather.
Ahhhh, W E A T H E R! There was not really any weather other than sunny in Cairo, so it was refreshing to experience a change and interestingly it felt oddly familiar and somewhat comforting.
I knew Starbucks opened at 0800 and so I headed there for comfort coffee and to plan the day ahead.
A fabulous bicyle!
Street cats began to emerge and preen, stretching and meowing for any morsel of food, sheltering under the relative dry of shop verandas. It was not a warm day by any means.
Slippery wet marble tiles made every step an act of delicate balance - mixed in with dodging the enormous puddles that were forming in gutters containing all manner of litter that was being pulled toward the Mediterranean Sea by the downpour. Cafe chairs were stacked neatly away, waiting for the chance to adorn the generous sidewalks once the rain abated - if it did - and some vendors began to uncurl umbrellas and other spurious methods of keeping the rain off their wares.
My plan for the day was to visit the Catacombs of Kom El Shoqafa. I had known about these since I studied classics at school, and had seen many photos. To actually go was a long-held bucket-list item for me, so I wasted no time devouring food and coffee, then sorting an Uber to get me to the site.
And what a site … sight.
At first glance it appears to be a haphazard collection of various artifcacts uncovered in the area, carelessly splayed about a small enclosed area. Security guards watch the entrance and there is the usual x-ray machine. I am so glad I got there early; within one hour the place was crawling with tourists and buses lined the small narrow roads that surrounded this historic area.
The catacombs of Kom El Shoqafa is considered to be one of the ‘Seven Wonders of the Middle Ages’. A circular staircase, which was often used to transport deceased bodies down the middle of it, leads down into the tombs that were tunneled into the bedrock during the age of the Antonine emperors (2nd century AD). The facility was then used as a burial chamber from the 2nd century to the 4th century, before being rediscovered in 1900 when a donkey accidentally fell into the access shaft. To date, three sarcophagi have been found, along with other human and animal remains which were added later. It is believed that the catacombs were only intended for a single family, but it is unclear why the site was expanded in order to house hundreds of other individuals.
This was one of the most incredible places I had ever seen.
A maze of tunnels leading to larger chambers which contained burial compartments, was also in places adorned with ornate carvings; and all of this accessed by a spiralling staircase around a central atrium of what looked to be at least 100 feet high.
I was mesmerised by this. It was warm as well - a surprise - the mud walls providing insulation from the winter rain outside.
I could not believe this existed under the feet of people and further more that it was tucked away in a scruffy, litter-lined narrow street, without fanfare or fuss.
The rain continued to fall and I needed to get a taxi rather than an Uber as my phone battery had died. I figured I needed to give the taxi driver a land mark he would recognise, so I chose the Alexandria Bibliotech - the new modern library on the waterfront as my drop-off point. The taxi ride ended up being ‘tour-de-cat” as the guy veered down random streets seemingly no where near the direction I needed to go, emptying bags of sardines onto the streets for hungry Alexandria street cats.
“Sorry, sorry!” he said with a lift of his hands in that classic “what to do” pose.
We made no less than eight stops for cats. Bless his cotton socks. (Egyptian cotton, of course).
I did not get inside the Bibliotech this trip, as coffee was more urgently required than a foray into the modern wonder that is Alexandria’s new library, so that will wait for another time.
I opted to walk to the train station, a lovely 30 minute wander deeper through the streets of Alexandria, passed empty Roman Theatres and crowded Sheesha bars. I was on the 3.30 train to Cairo - a trip in First Class (which just meant a shitty train but a bigger single seat to myself), which was to get into the city at 6-6.30 pm. I collapsed into my seat and watched the interesting musical chairs of train seats unfold for the entire trip back. Seemingly people can purchase a stand-by ticket super duper cheap, but they do not get a seat. They have to stand up and if a seat becomes available they can take it until the ticketed person at the next stop, comes to claim it. I watched with interest as several arguments broke out over seats. Great entertainment! Egyptians pay next to nothing anyway for tickets, and foreigners pay through the nose. The conductor took great delight at taking my ticket around the entire carriage, proclaiming loudly in Arabic how much I had paid - great gaffaws of laughter broke out like a Mexican wave as he paraded it around. I laughed along - inside seething; I could only imagine what he was saying. I guess tit for tat in terms of train entertainment.
The train rattled into Ramsis Station at 7.45, a respectable hour and a quarter late.
Egypt time.
I fell out into the familiar smells of Cairo and the relentless battlecry of taxi drivers. “Taxi! Taxi!”
“Taxi?”
“La’a”; “Ana Asfa”. I knew exactly where I was going and how to get where I was going. Now I could read the Arabic number plates, and I eagerly waited for my Uber to peel through the crowds outside the station, in the dark. Somehow we found each other. I opened the door and climbed into the back.
“Masaa al-Khair”
“Masaa al-noor” the driver responded.
“La Atakalam Arabi”
“No problem!” he said gleefully.
I exhaled.
I felt an instant weight being lifted. I oddly felt a ‘coming home’.
