Faces of Egypt, Day 279

Our room at the Canadian hostel is absolutely enormous and comes with air-conditioning (Cairo is a hot city), although the 150 Egyptian Pound room rate (US$27) does not get you an en-suite bathroom. The staff, however, are especially nice and help us plan our trip out to the Sahara (the Western Desert as it is known locally) and onward through Egypt. Having said that, the staff cannot get their heads around the fact that we will not need return transport. ‘Where will you go?’ I’m asked incredulously. ‘The Sudan,’ I reply. The staff look completely befuddled and bewildered. ‘Why?’ they ask finally.

That is a long story and one we will leave for another day. The point is though – can we even do it? The online research I’ve done since we’ve been in Africa would tend to suggest on the whole…no. At least the chances of Christi receiving a visa are slim, purely because she is an American citizen and Sudan and America are not on the friendliest of terms. The Sudanese embassies in Ethiopia and Kenya have on occasion been known to give out visas, but even that is unpredictable. A letter of introduction from a sponsor might work – the Bougainvillea guest house in Khartoum, the capital of Sudan, is often mentioned in this respect, but our inquiries are met with a polite refusal. We even talk to a visa agency in the US who say they need a letter of welcome from the Sudanese State Department in Khartoum; another useless lead.

Our plan is to travel overland through Egypt, take the ferry across man-made Lake Nasser and enter Sudan at Wadi Halfa. From we will continue our journey into the Heart of Darkness initially by crossing into Ethiopia. Another suggestion we see online that might help in securing a visa to Sudan is an exit strategy. Christi and I are clutching at straws, but we decide to apply for our Ethiopian visa before we subject ourselves to the vagaries of the Sudanese consular section.

Finding the Ethiopian embassy proves quite a challenge, but once we enter sovereign Ethiopian territory the process of applying for a visa itself is surprisingly easy. And unlike the Sudan, Ethiopia is very welcoming to US visitors. The cost is a mere US$30 per person and the visas will be ready in 24 hours. Emboldened by this positive news we hunt down the Sudanese embassy and ask what paperwork we might need to bring for the application. The consular official asks my nationality. ‘British,” I reply. He nods and then points at Christi, ‘And your wife?’ ‘She’s American,’ I say as casually as possible. A leer immediately plays around the guy’s mouth. He shakes his head, wags his finger and if he thought I wasn’t picking up on his negative body language adds, ‘No Americans.’ He then walks away without further explanation and just like that our dreams are in ruins.

We return dejected to our hostel and then try to make the best of our time in Cairo. Our hostel is centrally located near Tahrir Square and eventually we brave the labyrinthine subway system and suicidal roundabout to explore the square. (Back then it was not the focus of demonstrations and the Arab Spring and the locals were very friendly when they weren’t trying to run you over). We eventually find our way to Dr. Ragabs papyrus institute and look at a few papyrus souvenirs, but I have little enthusiasm for such things at the moment. In the center of Cairo you are never too far from the Nile river – and the Nile delta. The Nile is the key life-giving force to Egypt and Sudan and we had hoped to see where the waters of the Blue Nile and White Nile meet, but for that we need to get to Khartoum and currently this is not looking promising. I could go on alone and meet Christi in Ethiopia, but Christi does not like that idea and truthfully we don’t have enough money to go our separate ways for even a week or two. There is one other possibility. At best it is a longshot; at worst it’s a scam designed to extort money out of desperate travelers. I’m sure many of you are perplexed as to why Christi and I (OK, me) are so desperate to visit Sudan. In fact I can hear you yelling that the Sudanese government should be paying us to visit their country. All I can say is that travel is an addiction and sometimes it takes an addiction to get you where you want to go. (That is such a clever line, by the way, but I’m afraid you don’t find out why for another week!)