In Part I of this story, the whole lie began, and I was “kind of” stuck in a city while again lying to my parents and telling them I’m in a totally different cities so they wouldn’t freak out about safety. And I also started getting loads of phone calls from the Tourism Police, which starting to worry me because I didn’t want to get introuble there, without being able to even call my parents and tell them I’m in trouble (More and more trouble…get it?)
So after loads of phone calls, and after the tour at the beautiful monastery of St. Catherine, at 11 we finally met Officer “Osama Amer”, first thing he asked for was my national ID, biggest mistake was that I gave it to him. He looked at it and put it in his pocket! Now I was stuck, can’t leave until ‘he lets me go’.
National ID Card
He started asking if Anna, the American Pilgrim/Tourist that was accompanying me, will leave today or tomorrow, when I said she will leave tomorrow, on foot, things got a little crazy! At first he didn’t understand, so I explained to him her pilgrimage and what she is doing and showed him her book where every night she gets a stamp or a couple of words from her host to prove she’s been to everywhere. That is when things started getting annoying to me. He started laughing, asking me if I’m sure she’s not lying, making fun of her pilgrimage, and making fun of me for believing her.
I won’t take BS!
All I had to do (and I thank God for giving me this idea) was stand up, pretend I was leaving (yes, without my ID card). He called me and I was like “If you’re talking to me to have a little laugh and make your soldiers laugh at me, then you’d better start calling the American embassy in Egypt and see how you plan to escort her to Taba, I’m out of this and I have nothing to do with it, and see if your sarcasm will do good with the embassy now”
“I didn’t mean to be sarcastic, Dr. Mina you’re like my son and I didn’t mean to be mean to you or anything. I repeat my apology.” And he started talking again that it is impossible for her to walk under any circumstances.
Now I hate myself for using the American embassy card, I actually hate the fact of discrimination between people according their place of birth, face it: it’s 100% luck. But if I hadn’t done this, to a character like that officer, things might have went a little out of hand. So I’m sorry for using this, because I know it will be annoying to many people, not just me.
I told him she doesn’t have money to take a bus or a taxi to Taba. He said I should drive her there, or she could stay at the monastery until there’s a tour bus going to Taba and he will make sure she’s on that bus with them. “But tomorrow is Sunday and the monastery is closed, so no tour busses tomorrow, so she’ll have to wait until Monday!”
Feeling a little bit defeated, even Anna told me in she gave up a while ago but was just going on to annoy him, because we can 🙂 So we finally agreed that she’ll go to Taba by car, and that I will drive her there, now. (Thinking to myself, nice, now I need more excuses to be extra late on my way from “Dahab” back to Sharm).
Our escort to Taba. A real man!
View from my room in St. Catherine Monastery Guest House
And just as I thought this was over with the Tourism police, he starts to leave, I ask for my ID card, he says not now, because we can’t leave now. We’ll have to wait for another officer who will accompany us as a safety escort until Taba.
We waited for around 30 minutes for our escort to arrive. And no, he wasn’t a bodybuilding boxing wrestling championship that is totally armed as I thought a safety escort would look like. He was a brown, tall and really skinny guy in a grey suit, with no guns or armour or even anything to prove he works for the police. Except for the Egyptian Flag pin on the left side of his suit.
My car fell inlove with Blacksmiths
We Head towards Taba, and 30 minutes later, that loud voice i heard to the way to St. Katherine was there again. This time we weren’t infront of a city though, we were in the middle of nowhere. I kept going for a bit, looking from the corner of my eye atthe soldier that is with us, waiting for him to take action, make a phone call, makes sure we are not stuck in the “dangerous desert” that he came to protect us from. Nothing.
So after a while I find a gas station and ask them if they know anyone close to fix this. They told me there are close by hotels that have their own workshops, maybe theres a mechanic there. I went in there and as suspected, no mechanic. But another blacksmith. He told me he never worked on cars and I told him I know, but I guess the car is used to having blacksmiths work on it now, so it’s no problem, just do your best and make it go to Taba and back to Sharm el Sheikh and then I’ll find a real mechanic there.
45 minutes later the car was ready to go, doesn’t sound like a butterfly, more of an angry bee, but I had to get going so I just went.
As soon as I reached Taba, our escort told me he’ll leave us here by this check point. I told him I’m going back to all the way to Sharm if he wants to be dropped off anywhere but he said a police car will come pick him up in a while.
I kept going with the car until the road was over, with a sign that said “Taba Land Port”. That is when I stopped, said goodbye to Anna and watched her walk through the Port.
And then headed on my way back. Hoping and praying that the car will not break again.
My parents? Yes ofcourse they called me “It is almost 3pm when are you planning to come back to Sharm?”
“I’ll start in a while, I’m just having lunch now and as soon as I;m done I’ll start going”
By the time I reached Nuweiba “I headed out of Dahab and the car broke again!! So I went back inside Dahab and I’m fixing it now, and very soon I’ll be on my way back”
Right before Dahab it was almost 5pm, so my dad called, a little mad for me wasting the whole day again, so I said “I’m midway between dahab and Sharm but the car’s sound is really loud and its not accelerating, so I’m taking it slow so it doesn’t break again!”
A: St Catherine, B:Nuweiba, C:Where the car broke, D:Taba, E:Where my dad called and I told him I'm mid-way :D, F:Sharm el Sheikh
I reached there by 5.40 pm, meaning I was going on a minimum of 115Km/Hr. I know I’m a bad kid, I didn’t mean to do all that but the thing is… (oh yes I;m going for a moral of the story) … it’s never just one small lie, it all started with me planning to not tell my dad that I’ll drive an extra 100Km, and I ended up lying, lying, and lying. Which is not something I’m very proud pf, but it happened already. And there was no chance of changing it after doing that first small lie for a good cause.
So moral of the story: Check your car before you go on a road trip. It could be a huge pain the ass!