We woke on time and had the bikes loaded ready to ride to the station. Being early, the traffic was light and we soon arrived outside. All we had to do now was negotiate a way of getting two fully laden 60kg bikes down a flight of stairs and then back up the other side. The Aswan train couldn't possibly of left from platform 1! Wheeling them down the stairs was not too bad, although after having mine nearly get away from me, I had Debs wait until I could go back to help. Stage one was complete, there was nothing else to do but lift the bikes up the next set of steps. With a gap in the crowds I struggled up to the platform with Debs' bike and then went back for mine. The weight isn't really the problem, it's the bulk and the balance that makes it difficult to move them. What I really didn't need was the guy climbing the stairs in front of me to stop halfway up. By the time I got to the top with both bikes I was shattered and just hoping that we would be allowed to put them on the train. Even though Mr Rezeiky had told us to buy a ticket on the train, Debs went off to try and buy some for first class. That way at least, we would know what carriage to aim for, plus we reckoned that we may be more likely to get away with it in first class.
Debs returned with the tickets and we were soon joined on the platform by two station employees eager to help us load the bikes, for a fee of course. We had always known that getting them on board was going to cost us, but at least it looked like taking them wasn't going to be a problem.
When the train arrived the bikes were pushed into the carriage and with a certain amount of manoeuvring and the removal of my panniers they were safely loaded. With a wave that they would be taken care of we were shown to our first class compartment. Obviously 40LE (£4.10) doesn't buy you a lot of luxury, in fact it was dirtier than second class and the seats didn't recline; nevertheless it was quiet and we were only sharing with one Egyptian who slept most of the journey.
An example of Egyptians ripping off tourists and the shameless way they go about it was highlighted when we decided to order a tea each. When the drinks eventually arrived they were both coffee but before we had the chance to complain the waiter had gone. The coffee was nice enough, the bill wasn't. The conversation went: “How much for the drinks?” “20LE each”, queue slightly incredulous looks, as coffee and tea is normally 5 or 6LE at the most. Obviously aware he may have got carried away, he then said “oh sorry, I meant 20LE for the two, my English is not very good!”. Still too much money and there was nothing wrong with his English, we were fed up with arguing so we paid up, feeling suitably ripped off.
Arriving at Aswan station we were helped off with the bikes and we noticed that a bag was missing. Fortunately not anything serious, just my Crocs that had been placed under the cargo net on the back of one of the bikes. So much for the bikes being looked after, thank goodness it wasn't a pannier though. With so many people getting on and off the train at the stations and food vendors hopping on and off, it was obviously too tempting for someone. The only bonus was that when I said a bag was missing, all of the porters who had been waiting for a tip were suddenly nowhere to be found. I can only hope that the thief was left disappointed.
Perhaps it was because we had got to Aswan with the minimum of fuss, but I couldn't be bothered to get annoyed about the loss. The main thing was to get loaded and then head for the Sudanese consulate. Needless to say, we had two flights of stairs to negotiate again, but at least the taxi drivers left us alone.
Having heard some problems about people getting Sudanese visas, we have to say that the process in Aswan was ridiculously easy. All of the staff were very friendly and despite reading everywhere that the visa cost $100 each, we were only charged $50 each. We have no idea why this was, unless the cost to British nationals has dropped in the last few weeks, or the information we had found was incorrect. It pretty much made up for the loss of the Crocs!
Thirty day Sudanese visas in hand, we headed to the ferry office to buy our tickets. At least we would have if the person we needed to see, Mr Saleh, had been there. Asking what have to be the rudest staff we have encountered in Egypt when he would be in, we were told to come back at 1pm. We should have known by the dismissive hand gesture and snide attitude, made more surprising by the fact that they were women, that we were being fobbed off.
By 1pm we were back at the office and surprise, surprise Mr Saleh wasn't there. With another dismissive gesture we were told to come back tomorrow. After being worried about getting the visas, it seems we should have been more concerned about the ferry!
Before we left Rezeiky camp we had been given the number of a man who worked with Mr Saleh at the Ferry office. Elie Rezeiky had told us that he was a good man who could help us if we were having problems. A slightly difficult to understand phone call later and we were boarding the Movenpick hotel ferry to meet Mr Aboda, with the only instructions that he would be near the jetty. Arriving at the jetty we were beckoned over to a boat and were greeted by the very amiable Mr Aboda. He explained that with the Libyan crisis there were lots of refugees fleeing to Sudan and that there would possibly be more ferries running than normal. He told us that he would try and sort something out for us and to give him a ring at about 11am tomorrow. I can't say that we were filled with confidence, but we had got nowhere on our own so fingers crossed.
The day had been exhausting so we headed back to the hotel for a rest, only venturing out for a pleasant meal in the Nile side Aswan Moon restaurant. Hopefully we will have news of the ferry tickets tomorrow.
No comments:
Post a Comment