Before leaving for Egypt, Alexandria was my most yearning city. It is particularly interesting to imagine going to Alexandria to see the Mediterranean Sea in a daze at the age of “Alexander”.
Fantasy is the most wonderful human ability, but on my first day in Alexandria, a local girl’s reminder made me froze. I never thought that the city I was so looking forward to would look different in the eyes of locals.
The girl and I took the same bus. After getting off the bus, I looked for my backpack in the luggage compartment, but I couldn’t find it. She took the initiative to ask me what my luggage looked like and told me not to worry. She came to help me find it.
I have met many enthusiastic people in Egypt, among whom women seem more willing to lend a helping hand-perhaps because fellow women are easier to communicate with, or perhaps they are naturally softer and kind-hearted.
After finding the backpack, the girl seriously reminded me: “Be careful here, this is not Hurghada.” From her serious expression, I got my first glimpse of Alexander in reality.
She told me that there might be thieves in some hotels in Alexandria, so that we should always keep an eye on our luggage. It is never possible for a native to describe his hometown in this way for the purpose of defamation.
But is this the real Alexander? At least I didn’t have time to think deeply at that time, because it was more important to find a place to live.
It was several hours’ drive from Hurghada to Alexandria, and it was nearly midnight when we arrived. My companion found an inn on the booking website. Although it can’t be reached directly on foot, the price is cheap. After discussion, the three decided to take a taxi, but the driver didn’t know where this inn was at all.
I found the girl again and asked her to help confirm the name of the inn-because the name of the hotel on the reservation website is in Arabic, it can’t be searched directly on the map software.
The girl told me after trying to search that there were no hotels in that area. I emphasize that we booked an inn, preferring an apartment rather than a hotel.
Maybe because it’s late at night, every time the network car driver takes the order, he will call to ask for a fare increase. The girl tried to help us communicate with the driver at the station, but the driver actually sat on the ground and started the price. The second quotation was several times higher than the first one.
After thanking the girl, we decided to walk out of the station and try to get a taxi outside on the road. It was early in the morning at this point, and if it weren’t for the fact that the booked accommodation was paid for and non-refundable, we’d rather wait until dawn at the station, or go to the nearest KFC for the night. Unfortunately, the reservation of that inn cannot be cancelled.
If this night’s experience stopped there, I wouldn’t use “shock” to describe it. In fact, when I was so tired that I sat down on the steps regardless of my image, I didn’t expect the next encounter to be so dramatic.
After sitting outside for a long time, there was still no driver to take the order, but I saw many local minibuses passing by.
There are various forms of public transportation in Egypt, including Cairo’s subway and bus, but for locals, minibuses may be a more common choice-the routes extend in all directions and operate for a long time.
From the observation of the station that day, there were still countless minibuses in operation in the early morning, and countless passengers were waiting, which showed the position of minibuses in the hearts of locals. Unlike large buses, minibuses have limited passenger capacity and relatively narrow seats.
We didn’t choose the minibus at first, precisely because it was inconvenient to get on the bus with a big backpack, and we just wanted to settle down as soon as possible late at night.
I didn’t expect to rely on minibus in the end. The party went back to the station. For tourists, Egypt’s minibus system is very complicated-the routes are different, and you need to communicate with the driver for confirmation.
We only had the inn address and didn’t know which minibus line to take. There is no minibus route information in any map navigation software, so you can only ask by your mouth.
Fortunately, after asking N people, we finally found the waiting point of the corresponding line. Out of caution, we asked the passersby waiting there again. A fat brother’s English is very good. After getting a positive answer, I thought the twists and turns of this night were finally coming to an end.
Who knows, the night is still very long, and I am even more scary all the way.
There will always be many unexpected people and things on the way, sometimes surprises and sometimes challenges.
Occasionally a surprise turns into a shock, and sometimes a shock is just a false alarm, but you can’t predict what awaits you in the next moment.
It didn’t take long for the bus to arrive, and Fat Brother greeted us to get on the bus. But there were so many people getting on the bus that we couldn’t squeeze in with big backpacks. Fat brother smiled and said to wait for the next one. After a while, the fat brother said he wanted to take a taxi and asked if we would continue to wait for the bus or share a ride with him.
After discussing with our companions, we decided to go with Fat Brother-it is uncertain whether the next minibus can be squeezed into it, and Fat Brother’s English is easy to communicate, and he is going to the same place as us.
The fat brother took us out of the station, and soon a bus came-it was actually a minibus. My companion was surprised to get this kind of van.
Unlike the minibus at the station, this bus has only one passenger, plus Fat Brother and the three of us, so there is some popularity in the carriage.
The car drove on the streets of Alexandria in the early morning, driving farther and farther away, gradually diverging from the destination shown on the map. My companion asked me in a low voice if I had gone wrong.
The fat brother said he wanted to change trains in front. We had already paid the fare once at this point and were not sure if we would have to pay again for the change. Fat Brother told us we didn’t have to pay anymore. At this time, I didn’t think Fat Brother was a good person, but I only wanted to get to the inn as soon as possible.
In the middle of the night, Alexandria is getting closer to the suburbs, the more lively it is. Perhaps it was the hustle and bustle of the market that made us relax our vigilance a little, until after changing cars, the car drove into an increasingly remote neighborhood, and our companions vigilantly tightened the shoulder straps of our backpacks.
Before looking at the inn at the station, it was only a few kilometers away, but now it has driven more than ten kilometers away, which is far from the address shown on the map.
Once again, we suspected that Fat Brother had taken the wrong way, and even began to worry about whether he and the driver had ulterior motives. But I thought that the driver got off the bus halfway and went to the bakery to buy a piece of cake, went back to the car with a plastic bag and continued driving, and felt that the bad guys wouldn’t have the mind to buy midnight snack when they committed crimes-maybe this was the last bus?
But once the seed of doubt is planted, all kinds of terrible thoughts come one after another. Thinking that Fat Brother’s English is so good, while in foreign countries, people who are fluent in English are often engaged in tourism, and it is easy to deceive tourists… I began to guess whether this fat man knows the place or not.
Soon after, the car suddenly stopped, and Fat Brother said. Looking at the destination markers more than ten kilometers apart on the navigation, we looked at each other and didn’t believe that this was where we were going.
Where did this arrive? It was more than ten kilometers away from his destination. This fatty obviously took the wrong way!
We were too scared to get out of the car-the lights on both sides of the car were dim as we pulled into this alley. Fat brother pointed to the Madonna statue on the street and said, “This is where you are going.”
What exactly went wrong? The map clearly showed that the location was wrong, but Fat Brother pointed to the Madonna and insisted on it.
Out of nowhere, a group of young men suddenly appeared and slammed open the car door. We were dumbfounded.
Late at night, in a strange alley in a foreign country, seven or eight men blocked the car door, blocking the way and obscuring their sight. The only comforting thing is the statue of the Merciful Madonna on the wall, which casts a soft filter on the scene.
Fat brother checked the address again and insisted that the place was correct. The driver asked us what the hotel we booked was called and if there was a boss’s phone number. A group of people gathered around and chattered to help us find a way.
The companion translated the local place name sent by the inn, which did contain the words “Madonna”. Everyone got out of the car while confused. At this moment, my companion suddenly felt that the building on the side of the road looked familiar. He looked at the picture of the inn-this is really the inn!
Why are two points more than ten kilometers apart in the same place? Is the address published by the inn on the platform wrong? If we didn’t ask for directions, but looked according to the platform address, how could we find it?
What’s even more outrageous is that the rating of this inn is not low, even very high, but none of the guests mentioned the wrong address-who would have thought that they actually lived in an inn with a seriously inconsistent address!
Although we found the inn, we didn’t know which floor it was on. The driver kept helping us call the innkeeper, but it was already three o’clock in the morning. The boss might have fallen asleep, and the phone was not answered.
The fat brother handed the phone to the people next to him again. They took turns dialing with different numbers and finally got through. The boss said he would come right away, but he didn’t see anyone.
While comforting us not to worry, Fat Brother said that he would wait until the boss came to ensure that we checked in safely before leaving. He also introduced that another man next to him was a policeman, which reassured us.
The boss didn’t come, so Fat Brother kept waiting. After a while, Fat Brother called the boss again. After waiting for an unknown long time, the boss finally arrived late. After the fat brother and the police communicated with the boss respectively, they left with confidence.
And I didn’t even leave a photo of the fat brother or the driver at that time. It’s a pity to think about it afterwards. After all, there’s absolutely no need for Fat Brother to wait there, and the driver doesn’t have to call us to communicate.
Their kindness allowed me to see another side of Egypt-an Egypt beyond the eyes of tourists as hawkers and begging children, a more authentic, indigenous and soft Egypt.
The sea in Alexandria is not blue. Compared with other cities in Egypt, the scenery here is not top-notch and the food is not outstanding. I even briefly lost all photos and videos here.
But it is this experience that makes me never forget this city again.
During my trip to Egypt, I met many incredible things and many kind people.
A girl once stood on the side of the road, saw that we didn’t dare to cross the road, and took the initiative to signal the vehicle to stop and lead us over-just like an adult leading a child across the road. At that moment, I saw the other side of Egypt’s friendliness and kindness.
When you are tired of routines and strategies, maybe this road to the locals is closer to the real travel direction.
The scenery seen by travelers is only a moment, but many memories are precious-because they engrave the moment into eternity, becoming an indelible mark and witness.
