Our last day in Aswan had us go by taxi and then boat to أنس الوجو (Philae), an island in the Nile and the site of an impressive ancient Egyptian temple complex. We were there very early in order to stay ahead of the worst of the day’s heat.
As it turned out, there was a pleasant breeze blowing. The temperature rose no higher than 34°C, which, whilst very hot, was noticeably more merciful than the previous days’ forty-something torture.
After a mediocre lunch at the Aswan Moon, which does, at least, boast an excellent waterfront location, we relaxed in the room while Lukie slept, enjoying the 15:00 check-out that we’d arranged.
When we finally checked out, we left our bags at the hotel and got down to some souq shopping. I bought a galabia (an Islamic man’s long outer garment), because they look so cool (cool as in the antonym to hot, not as in good-looking). I could imagine wearing it around the house on a hot summer’s day.
That left just enough time for an early dinner of fiteer at the same restaurant near the train station, where we ate the other day. Then, it was back to the hotel to collect the bags and head back to the train station for the night train to Cairo.
If you’ve been on European sleeper trains, the Egyptian variant could come as a disappointment. The sleeper compartments aren’t very clean and have neither a shower nor a private toilet. Outside of Western Europe, we approach everything with a very open mind, which we find helps to avoid disappointment. Accordingly, the train was more or less what we’d expected.
The bed, however, was quite comfortable and that’s the most important thing on a sleeper train. We had two adjoining compartments, which was very convenient, because we could spread our luggage between them. We put the children to bed in one of them and then sat down in the other to watch some DVDs.
I awoke at 06:00 the next morning, expecting breakfast to be served at any moment, because the train was due to arrive in Cairo at 07:00. The stories we’d heard from other tourists, however, turned out to be accurate, and it would be 09:00 before we’d finally reach the Egyptian capital. Breakfast was, therefore, served at 08:00, but turned out to be worth waiting for. It wasn’t fantastic, but it was better than expected and a vast improvement on the breakfast packed for us by our hotel on the day that we went to Abu Simbel.
In Cairo, we took a taxi to our hotel, dumped all of our gear and then set out for Coptic Cairo via the metro. The Egyptian metro is pretty good and it costs only E₤1 (about €0.15) to go anywhere on the network!
Looking around all of the churches and whatnot here took a long while and Eloïse’s patience was fraying. Nevertheless, there was enough of the day left to see something else, so we got in a taxi to قلعة صلاح الدين (Cairo Citadel).
The Citadel quickly became a mob scene, with hordes of Egyptian schoolgirls crowding around Eloïse and Lucas, vying for photos with their mobile phones. In a nice example of photographic recursion, these youthful photographers became the subject of my own lens. These scenes were about as close to experiencing celebrity as either Sarah or I am likely to get. The children continue to be bemused by the attention, although it became rather overwhelming on this occasion and we had to say enough is enough. Lucas, in particular, had reached his limit and was tired of being picked up and passed around like a parcel.
We took a taxi back to the hotel and then went out for dinner at a kushari restaurant.
Over the last few days, I’d been experiencing some discomfort while urinating. Actually, it began as discomfort, but had now become a sensation more accurately described as painful; very painful even. Its rate of intensification was such that I was confident we’d be back home before I needed treatment, if, indeed, I needed treatment at all. I was hoping it would subside on its own, as mysteriously as it had appeared. Other symptoms were increased frequency of urination, decreased ability to hold my pee and, on the first or second day of its appearance, a light fever and mild dizziness.
All of a sudden, though, during that kushari dinner, this ailment took on an altogether more urgent character. The restaurant we were in had no toilet, so I had to bolt from my seat and run down the road to the nearest restaurant, where I was able to use the toilet in fist-clenching, white knuckle pain. Honestly, it felt as if I was pissing sulphuric acid.
Back at the restaurant, I managed to get another couple of spoonfuls into my mouth before I needed to go again. Shit! I was losing all bladder control!
I had to bolt from the restaurant again, this time making it only as far as a dark alleyway around the corner. I had to dive between two cars and piss there, which is really not the done thing in an Islamic country, but I couldn’t make it any further. The pain was excruciating, but far worse was that I could clearly feel that whatever valve is down there was no longer closing the plumbing at the end of my urination. There was effectively a clear path between my bladder and the end of my penis and therefore, by extension, my trousers and the ground under my feet.
I could also now see that my knob was worryingly inflamed. This and the loss of bladder control made me start to worry that I wouldn’t be able to make the flight home the next day. Shit, even getting back to the hotel was going to be an adventure.
I had to do it in two legs. We got a few hundred metres down the street and made it into a branch of Costa Coffee, where I peeed at least two more times in the space of a few minutes.
From there, it was back to the hotel, where another urinary explosion wasn’t far behind. I then lay on the bed, with a towel under me, in case complete and utter incontinence overtook me and I wasn’t able to make it the few metres from the bed to the loo in time. Sarah and I discussed the situation and agreed it was in everyone’s best interests to try to make it home the next day.
Thankfully, it had been an exhausting day and I soon fell asleep, in spite of the fact that it was still early evening. This seemed to have a calming effect on my bladder, so that, when I awoke in the morning, I felt a little better. I had noticed earlier that the pain had always been the mildest in the mornings, presumably because the plumbing is relatively well rested at that point. After the rigours of processing the quantity of fluid required to keep the Egyptian sun from frazzling my body to a dessicated carcass, things were decidedly worse, so it was very much in our favour that we had a morning flight. If this day were to go the way of the one before, I still stood a good chance of making it back to the Netherlands before spiralling into a vicious circle of each pee reducing my bladder control to the point of nothingness.
And so it was to be. I made it back onto Dutch soil after about a dozen in-flight pees. Thankfully, I never had to wait too long for the toilet, so I was able to hold it in.
Eloïse was asleep at the time of landing. She woke up as we were waiting to disembark and, in a manner that I’m now all too familiar with, found herself desperate to pee. Ironically, she was the one who now couldn’t contain herself, so she let rip right there, in the aisle (and over my foot). There was nothing we could do.
Out in the terminal, I had to pee again. I began to wonder if we’d make it home before nightfall at this rate!
Whilst waiting for our baggage, I called the doctor. I have a healthy mistrust of the medical profession, but this had clearly gone far enough. The pain was such that any increase was a worrying prospect, not to mention the inflammation. When it comes to your wedding tackle, you don’t want to take any chances, do you?
The doctor agreed to see me that afternoon, so we retrieved our bags and took a taxi home, where I literally dumped our suitcases and headed out again on the bike.
I was back within an hour, armed with some antibiotics and optimistic of some relief. The diagnosis: acute bladder infection. Cause: unknown.
Things are better today. I developed some aches and pains around the lower back and kidney areas in the course of yesterday afternoon and evening, but those are mostly gone now. Peeing is painful, but not excruciating. My frequency of urination is abnormal, but not astronomic. Here’s hoping for a steady return to normal service over the next couple of days.
I don’t know. For forty-odd years, everything works according to the documentation and then, in the space of a few months, first a hernia and now this. Why the bad groin karma? Buggered if I know.