The Chronicles of Egypt - New Year’s Eve

In the previous edition of ‘The Chronicles of Egypt’, I left off by saying that our next adventure was to be a simple train ride to Luxor. We had our tickets, we knew when the train was supposed to leave, and we knew where the train station was and how to get there. What more could we possibly need? Well, some signs saying which train is which would have been nice. Or at the very least, the platform numbers could have been clearly labeled. After walking through a maze of underground tunnels from the metro station we eventually found the train station. It wasn’t very tourist friendly. It was dark (probably because it was nighttime), it was dirty (probably because we’re in Egypt and everything is dirty), and everything was written in Arabic (again, probably because we’re in Egypt). It quickly became apparent that we were out of our element here. Somehow we had to select one train from a variety of unappealing options, then, when we figured out which train to take, we had to figure out which car to get into, and finally, which seat to sit in. I think that the only things labeled in English were the seat numbers. Actually, I think the only things labeled, period, were the seat numbers! Ok, maybe not that extreme, but it certainly seemed that way.

We eventually boarded a train that we ‘thought’ (at least I did) was bound for Luxor, and took our seats. There was no conductor to check our tickets or to direct us to our seats. At that point I think we were about 20% sure we were on the correct train. We were in our seats 20 minutes before the train was due to leave, and yet, after sitting there for only five minutes, the train lurched ahead and slowly left the station. No whistle blew, nobody yelled “All aboard!” It just left. This was nothing like the movies depict train rides to be. As we realized the train was leaving 15 minutes before the departure time written on our tickets, our faith that we were on the proper train dropped to about 10%. Ten minutes later we stopped at another station in Cairo and more people boarded the train. I figured that we had mistakenly boarded an earlier train and that in a matter of seconds somebody would board the train and point out that we were sitting in their seats. It never happened, though. The train left that station and nobody demanded us to move. At that point we realized that the name of the station we were at corresponded with the name written on our tickets. We also noticed that the time that we left the second train station also corresponded with the departure time written on our tickets. We were now 50% sure that we were on the correct train. 50% is a pass in my books, so I finally started to relax. A few minutes later a man came around to make sure everyone had their tickets. He hardly looked at our tickets, but the fact that he didn’t boot us off the train made me 75% sure we were on the right train.

I should take this time to describe the sights, sounds, and smells of the train. It was ugly, noisy, and stinky. Actually, it was a lot like riding the metro for nine and a half hours straight, only the seats were a bit softer and it was less crowded. Stepping onto the train was like stepping into a van that was once owned by some old smoker who had since been deceased. What I mean by this is that the air was musty, the upholstery had dirt ground into it, everything was dusty, there were sticky stains here and there, and oily fingerprints all over the windows. It was very Egyptian. For the next nine or ten hours I tried to sleep amidst the ringing phones, loud talkers, and banging doors. Every ten or fifteen minutes a man would briskly walk down the aisles balancing a try of tea and coffee in one hand while loudly announcing, “shay (tea), Nescafe.” There may have been the possibility of me getting a little bit of sleep if it weren’t for this guy. As if all of that wasn’t bad enough, the gentleman behind me had a severe case of foot odor. The sour smell would waft under my chair, right up to my nose which, might I add, had recently cleared up from a sinus congestion. Funny how smells always seem stronger when you’ve just gotten your sense of smell back.

A few hours after our train ride began, midnight came around. This was new years! I looked around to my friends sitting in the seats around me. They came all the way from Canada to Egypt to share this moment with me… and they were all sleeping. I put my head back and tried to get a few minutes of sleep for myself. Eight or nine stops later the train came to a stop and a boy opened the door and shouted “Luxor”. At this point I was 100% certain that we had boarded the proper train.