The drive to Cairo from the Suez Canal was one of the most chaotic experiences of my life. The low levels of traffic of the Sinai were replaced by 4 lane highways in which cars sat 5 or 6 abreast. To make matters even more bizarre large vehicles were relegated to a side road that runs the length of the main highway with random, interspersed, unsigned access ramps between the two.

I had been warned about Cairo traffic, and had seen it from the relative safety of a bus a week before but driving it is another experience entirely. Bedlam though it may be there is a weird degree of skill in the driving that you see as you move closer to the city center. I had opted to spend my first night in Cairo at the farm of a Canadian expat who welcomes Overlanders into the security of her little compound. This was located about 35 km south of the city so required me to navigate the regional ring road to get there in one piece.

With darkness falling I still had 100km left to go. My afternoon of delay in crossing the canal had put a serious dent into my plans. Never the less the darkness resulted in headlights and brake lights only being more visible. Roaring through the traffic while attempting to deal with a situation devoid of logic or rules there is little else to do other than making sure you aren’t hit and avoiding colliding with anyone else.

Crossing the Nile in Cairo is always a slow exercise unless you have easy access to the metro system. Traffic over the few bridges is almost always at a standstill. As one would expect this was where I hit the cacophony of a full-blown Cairo rush hour traffic jam. Loaded up with all my luggage, the width of the bike prevented me from being quite as cheeky as I would have liked. I was, never the less, obliged to focus upon cramming myself through as many small gaps as possible. The high 30s temperature combined with the warmth exuded from the multitude of vehicles around me and the sheer volume of fumes had me light-headed and giddy. A dangerous combination that resulted in evermore cock sure confidence than was perhaps justified. A realisation that Cairo drivers and contact between vehicles wasn’t the end of the world had me scrubbing the occasional fender with my canvas bags.

As the sweltering temperature got to me, I began to realise that my simple air-cooled Suzuki was warming up too. Cooled only by movement sitting stationary was doing nothing for the temperatures she was reaching. Desperation put me on the hard shoulder, gritting my teeth and barging forward at any opportunity to let the bike drop a few degrees as the air rushed over it.

I will never forget forging my way down the narrow gap between the vehicles and either a substantial concrete wall or a one-foot high sidewalk. Repeatedly I heard my bags scrub the concrete, occasionally the cars, the size of my bike allowing me past most vehicles.

To give some frame of reference for how close I was running to these cars, I was fitting through gaps where I couldn’t put my feet down the side of the bike while my handlebars ran above or bellow the mirrors of the cars on both sides. Occasionally a slight tilt to the right had my foot pegs dragging on the high sidewalk as I rode skirting as close to the edge as I possibly could.

Yet somehow, I survived. I was involved in no major accidents, there were no injuries to speak of, and my bike hadn’t melted into a molten puddle of aluminium and steel. To top it all off I developed quite a taste for the absurd experience of riding in Cairo.

Reaching the farm was its own little adventure, situated in the outskirts of the city it was a challenge to navigate the maze of buildings and dark roads. I found the rough location and was sitting in the dark attempting to call Maryanne when two guys on a bike stopped next to me. Naturally the sight of Overlander's in this part of the city meant one thing and that was that I was headed to Sorat farm. I was told to follow them and then realised that I’d made it to within 50 meters of the gate. The farm was nice if simple, a patch of grass for my tent and access to a shower and sometimes WIFI. However, when I woke the next morning I wont lie when I say I was shocked that the pleasure of staying there costs 20 dollars. For those in large trucks accessing Cairo central would be an almost impossible challenge and this makes it potentially viable, however with the bike I was sure secure parking could be had and accommodations sought for substantially less.



Determined to make something of my countryside experience I joined in with their weekly vet clinic. In a remarkable display of charity, she provides basic veterinarian care to the animals of the local villages. Each week attending a different location the little team vaccinate, worm, shod and do dental work to a ridiculous variety of animals not limited to donkeys, horses, chickens, camels and the occasional buffalo.

The cart ride was a pleasant divergence from the bike however I was soon making my excuses to escape the expensive clutches of the farm and head into the city. Cairo is a metropolis the likes of which I’ve never seen before. I don’t believe too many places can compare. Housing a similar number to Istanbul it does so in a much smaller area. Unlike the more low-lying sprawl of the latter, Cairo is a concrete jungle that goes upwards and outwards.

It is a mixed mess of sights, sounds and smells. The national museum is one of the worlds most impressive; housing antiquities of an age and quality that can scarcely be matched. It is a maze that goes on and on, covering thousands of years of history and dozens of dynasties. Some of my favourite pieces include the huge sculptures of the Pharaohs, intricate gold work found in King Tuts tomb and the impressive frescoes that have been moved from all over the country.


The wonders of that great museum.
On the streets the people are friendly, the frenetic traffic rushes by, a cacophony of horns and sirens. Most simply say Welcome, a few will attempt to guide you in the direction of their shops. As with most countries where tourism is important it becomes necessary to grow a sort of thick skin to all the hellos that are thrown at you. As jaded as that sounds, I think that’s a reality that one faces sooner or later when traveling.

As I was to learn the hard sell in Cairo is soft by Egyptian standards. I spent a day exploring the museum and the city centre before venturing towards Zamalek and making new friends through Josh after he and the gang returned from Dahab. Dinking Josh around the city on the way to visit the Pyramids at Dashur, Giza and Saqqarah (pronounced Sa’a’rah) got some very amusing looks from the locals but the freedom from the drama of arranging a taxi or getting an Uber was liberating.



At Dashur I was allowed into the complex and raced around the pyramids amid the dunes on the bike. Stopping to pose for a few photos as I went. The Bent Pyramid appears to only be accessible via a tour but the other, a pyramid almost as grand as those at Giza is one of the most intricate internally. Several caverns can be explored, and one section has an opening connecting to the next nearly 10 meters off the ground. A modern staircase enables you to access this last little corner of the labyrinth.


The Bent Pyramid

The sunny side of Dashur


The narrow little path down into the heart of the pyramid isnt for the faint of heart.

The modern staircase to allow access into the final chamber


The not so sunny side of Dashur.
Rather bizarrely, inside this last chamber you can witness the lower foundations of the pyramid, with a few blocks having fallen out of the walls you look around alarmingly as though the rest of it might just come crumbling down on top of you.

Saqqarah has the first of the pyramids, a more stepped example that was built in*several phases over the years and was never clad into the perfect pyramid shape. Lessons learnt from the bent pyramid however were crucial for the construction of the three great pyramids at Giza. Standing before them its difficult to gain a sense of perspective as to which is larger. Josh and I ‘negotiated’ with one of the guards and got into the 3rd Pyramid right on closing. It was less accessible than the pyramid at Dashur requiring a further tour to venture beyond a closed steel grate down in the depths of one of the vaults.

The guard was getting antsy with how long we sat around down in the depths and started flicking the lights on and off leaving us to crawl out in occasional darkness. On the way up the final shaft the lights were turned off and all we had to go on was the light at the end of the tunnel. Crawling out into the light we blinked before setting off around the back of the 3rd pyramid to the ever-popular dunes to take the obligatory photos with the three pyramids in the background.

The sphinx is a lot smaller than one would expect and the crowded viewing area ruins it. It is a challenge to get any sort of scope on it as one thing as the crowds cover it and limit you to seeing it in patches. Never the less there are few things in the world that you know of since you’re a child and yet seeing the pyramids is a whole did not let my expectations down. By contrast, they’re just as awe-inspiring and indescribable as they were when you first saw pictures when you were young. They beggar belief like few other things in the world.

After the pyramids I felt it was necessary to get a few kilometres done. Up to Alexandria I went where I joined a group of riders. A huge thank you to Markos, Yassin, Sami and the crew at the Le Trottoir Café. A pleasant evening of Shisha and pizza was followed by a much-needed sleep and the following day a group ride led me around the main sights.


I find it very frustrating that photos never reveal the size of the hill you have to climb to take them. Or in my case, the size of the hill you have to push a motorbike up.
From there I delved towards Siwa Oasis and a whole lot more drama than I ever bargained for. A pleasant night under the starts at the Mountain camp, swimming in the hot water spring that bubbles forth from the little oasis in the middle of the desert before heading out to Astro Camp and a rare opportunity to ride amongst the dunes in the Great Sand sea. Rules and regulations require complicated and substantial permits to be gained for any sort of particularly extensive riding in the area. As with most things Egyptian that you can experience is excellent but that which you’re prohibited from doing would probably be even better.


Photo shoot just outside Astro Camp with the loveable Fati
Siwa includes the temple of the Oracle where Alexander the Great was crowned Pharaoh over Egypt and is the source of the mythical references to such a figure in one of my favourite book series by Matthew Rielly. The town is also the best access to the Great Sand Sea and offering up a myriad of cooling pools and bathing areas.


When you climb a hill for no other reason than you can and it ends up being far more effort than planned.

One of my favourite photos of the whole trip.

Life changing sunsets


A taste of the Great Sand Sea

The Temple of the Oracle

The lushness of the Oasis and the Necropolis in the background.

The old Siwian fortress was built of mud in the middle of the desert and stood proud until 1926 when three days of heavy rain literally caused it to melt and become completely compromised as a haven for its inhabitants. From here I aspired to head towards Bahariya oasis. A road that I’d been told many times is likely impassable. Exhibiting a fairly cock sure confidence I adopted the mentality from the Sinai. I would go and try the route I wanted and*if they say no I turn back. No harm no foul. How wrong could I have been.

Here I will leave this story for its own post and instead proceed with the rest of my Egyptian experience lest I taint the rest of the country by way of this one situation.

Having been liberated in Marsa Matrouh I passed a solitary night high up in a tower of a beach front hotel, my bike parked front and centre in the lobby. I licked my wounds and then aimed for Alexandria to re-join the safety of the riders there and give my bike a bit of loving.

By the end of my day in Alexandria I was back and fighting fit with my oil changed, brake pads replaced, washed, polished, chain lubricated and a new bracket for my broken exhaust carefully carved by a brilliant craftsman. Watching him work the spectacular and seemingly ancient lathe was a very enjoyable experience.

The popular Spitfire bar provided the evening's entertainment and my name was forever more inscribed upon the wall.

A few hours of fitful sleep saw me commit to an early morning ride to Cairo, desperate to try to get in before the traffic got too bad. Optimism is a wonderful thing, and even though I left at shortly before 4 am the Alexandria Desert Road was packed by my 6:30 am arrival. Wrecked I arrived at a friendly place, unpacked my bags and fell asleep forever.

Quitting Cairo a few days later saw me on the road to Wadi al Hitan. A unique site and one which had merited UNESCO recognition for its importance in demonstrating evolution. Hours of riding into the desert gives rise to a bizarre valley filled with ball-shaped rocks, large and small. Aside from these rocks are the extensive collection of fossils left behind by the ancestors of the modern whale.

These skeletons are one of the only sites in the world which reveal the shift from land to sea-based lives. Functional yet defunct pelvis and rear legs offer insight to how the bodies of these great animals adapted to a shift in climate and environment as their lush landscape was replaced by a more arid and less sustainable climate. Faced with this choice these great beasts headed for the ocean. Today, many whales are without any sort of pelvic structure however some have been found to possess such bones in their bodies without having any use or need for them as they float separately from the spine.


It almost seems like remains are just scattered around.

And a head!

Looks almost snake-like. It would be a gigantic snake though.


I've never seen a landscape like it.

On top of this, the spectacular landscape offered one of my only wild camping experiences in all of Egypt. The next day saw me on the long road to Luxor, as with everything in Egypt the challenges were on their way in full force.

Riding from Fayoum towards Asyut is a relatively straight forward 300km down the Nile road. 12 hours later I’d done just 200. Being stopped every 10 to 15km to pick up yet another police convoy had me tense. When I was told to then ride the next 100 km in the dark I simply walked away from the bike into the desert and screamed.

For all the effort they cost me I forced myself into their care for the night and was promptly given lodgings in the police checkpoint. Whether I was free to leave was anyone’s guess.

I rose early the next morning to be confronted by many bleary-eyed Egyptians not used to being awake for hours. Packed and seated on my bike by sunrise they couldn’t understand why I wanted to get a move on. From there it took me two more days to make it to Luxor. The journey a stop start affair constantly involving police or army. Reference to my adventure in Siwa was never made but I was repeatedly refused permission to head towards Bahariya or any of the other western desert Oasis.



When I arrived in Qena with the intent to see the spectacular Dendera temple complex I was frustrated beyond words that I was to require a convoy through the town. I highly recommend visiting here for anyone going near Luxor.



It was absolutely a highlight and worth the little extra effort to transfer to Qena. The restorations are minimal, the degree of preservation is remarkable and the scale of the temple, like all things Egyptian is spectacular.



Leaving the temple, I was again required to wait before I could be simply lead to the centre of town to eat my lunch. Egypt is genuinely designed for travellers on a set standard itinerary, the government are unable to cope with much else. With a taxi or a tour guide you’re slightly insulated, perhaps those locals are considered sufficient to keep you safe but for those of us who are traveling with a form of transport that enables us to be defiantly independent, the government, army and police are inept to the point of endless frustration.

From there I began running my escorts around the city. Determined to make them feel as inconvenienced as I felt I began demanding that I purchase fruit, clothing, groceries, water, and several other little knickknacks. Each time requiring my escort to guide me around the town and sit around while I ummed and ahhed over every little choice I had to make. From time to time Id ask if they were getting impatient yet, and when I was finally given an affirmative answer I smiled gleefully and told them I was glad they knew how I felt.

Out of bright ideas with which to kill time I finally caved and committed to the last 100 odd km to Luxor and where I would hopefully spend the night. Passing through the outskirts of town my police escort suddenly pulled over, waving me on and shouting have fun as I sailed past. To say I was overjoyed would be an understatement. There were sizeable tears of joy dripping down my cheeks in my helmet as I roared off as free as a bird for the first time in almost 1000 km. I cannot describe my satisfaction, my elation or the calm that settled over me as I settled into a comfortable cruise.


When you go to all that effort and it snaps in two

Temple of Horus anyone?

This Nile road was dotted with speed bumps, requiring a constant 0 to 90 to 0 to 90 accelerate and brake process. Some speed bumps were hidden in shadows or I was distracted waving or otherwise enjoying the serenity that I hit them at 90 with the sole consolation that I missed the next three.

As always, the freedom was short-lived. Some 50km later I was again picked up and escorted rapidly through town to the point where my sedate pace angered the guides, who became even more irritable when I pulled over to have a cup of tea without conferring with them at all. Nonchalant to the end I had given up caring and when they came back to find me I quickly rode past them waving as I continued on my way.

Arriving in Luxor I was then given an escort to my hostel, before being instructed to call them if I wished to leave or ride around. This resulted in me spitting the proverbial dummy yet again right in the middle of the roundabout outside Luxor temple. It was a tirade that stopped traffic and had people watching and was successful as it gained me my freedom after I’d ensured that the soldier was sufficiently mortified.

The history in Luxor is the only reason anyone should ever visit, aside from the Valley of Kings, Tombs of the Nobles, Temple of Luxor and Karnak it is a cesspool of everything wrong with tourism. With the collapse of the tourism industry, the degree of desperation among the street peddlers and guides have risen proportionately. It is admittedly a pretty little patch of the Nile with a few nice places to sit and have a as the sun goes down. However, everyone who tries to talk to you has an angle. Anyone that manages to get some of your business will try to cheat you out of more.

Along with the pyramids, the Temple of Hatshepsut is an image of which we are almost all aware.


The aforementioned Temple and I just moments for I tripped over and landed on my bottom in the dust.
Yet unlike the pyramids it was a tad disappointing. Largely rebuilt with little original remaining it was one of the most crowded and touristy places I saw. By contrast the Ramesseum, Deir el-Medina and what remains of the colossi of Memnon were brilliant.




That'd have given me quite the headache.

Quiet and except for the latter very well preserved these temples offered highlight after highlight. The temples of the Nobles can be entered at student prices if you pay 10 pounds more to the man behind the counter. Although there were a few times some people asked for student ID, most of the time they held my documents upside down anyways.

The Valley of Kings is cool, if a little expensive and even more clichéd. Your standard entry fee will gain you access to three of the tombs with additional tours and the ability to use your camera costing a pretty penny on top. There is plenty going on outside of it that you don’t have to pay an arm and a leg for. Not to be missed is the other small temple up the top of the mountain accessible from the car park on the right-hand side. I didn’t go as I was in a rush to escape but I heard great things.

From Luxor I headed south, Aswan offered the Sudanese visa and consequently the ability to escape Egypt. I had such high hopes, so much of why I went down the east coast of Africa was so that I could see and enjoy the history that Egypt offers.

It is a country of amazing highs and low lows. Will I go back? Perhaps, but I imagine Ill be just as disappointed as those who moved back hoping for change after the revolution only to be even more disappointed.

Thank you to those of you who made my time in Egypt enjoyable.

Sadly many of my photos are currently in limbo on a broken hard drive. I'll add some more when they're recovered!

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