Outside the square - part 1
February 29th 2008 18:38
Those who have never traveled may never know the value of the experience they are missing out on. They continue living their daily existence with a wish that twinkles in the far horizon, if only they dared be different in someway their lives would be more exciting.
Of course some may argue that life itself is a journey and we are all travelers having unique experiences - these experience are inside the square (we live in). I believe to understand and regenerate ourselves fully we must think outside the square and traveling is a means by which this is can be accomplished.
A month after I turned eighteen in summer of 1996, I flew to Egypt to spend two months with my friend Lola and her family. Ignorance is bliss because despite this being my first long flight to an unknown country, my only concern was the cramped seating. And I was lucky to have a Maltese man seated next to me who woke me up for my meals and advised me to refuse any help offered to me at Cairo airport. Apparently tipping is a must since they don’t have GST.
Finally when we landed after the long flight I was glad to get off the plane. I made my way with the other passengers to the entrance of the plane. My gaze was met by a storm of dust in the far horizon, a shuttle bus at the base of the airplane stairs and an army officer standing with a large gun. A little shocked, time and my feet froze where I stood. It was only when someone nudged me from behind did I snap back to reality. I made my way down the stairs and barely got myself on the bus when the doors slammed shut and the driver shot off like a formula one racer. I would have found the situation amusing at the time but I was busy trying to keep myself and my hand-luggage in one place. Needless to say we arrived at airport in no time at all. I quickly scrambled out and made my way inside a very small airport where I was approached numerous times by random locals wanting to assist me. I refused the persistent offers and found myself a trolley and made my way out where Lola and her mum were waiting for me. There are no taxi’s at the airport and the taxi Lola and her mum came in was for a bargained price, which meant the driver wants to complete the job as fast as he can. My bags were so vigorously slammed in the boot, that I offered to hold them on my lap. The rest were flung on top of the taxi and taking a deep breath I got in. Lola‘s mum was hardly inside when the drive started driving. After she gave him an earful, we shot off - another formula one driver.
As Lola and I chatted about the flight, I couldn’t help thinking about the state of my bags squashed inside the boot and on the roof of the taxi. My instincts kept me on edge and I decided to glance behind us from time to time - and sure enough “whoosh” went one of my bags, flying off the roof.
I exclaimed “my bags, my bags”! The taxi screeched to halt and zigzagged in reverse to where my bags lay on the dusty road. The driver jumped out, picked up the bag and hauled it back on top of the taxi and off we shot off into the dusty road.
Of course some may argue that life itself is a journey and we are all travelers having unique experiences - these experience are inside the square (we live in). I believe to understand and regenerate ourselves fully we must think outside the square and traveling is a means by which this is can be accomplished.
A month after I turned eighteen in summer of 1996, I flew to Egypt to spend two months with my friend Lola and her family. Ignorance is bliss because despite this being my first long flight to an unknown country, my only concern was the cramped seating. And I was lucky to have a Maltese man seated next to me who woke me up for my meals and advised me to refuse any help offered to me at Cairo airport. Apparently tipping is a must since they don’t have GST.
I exclaimed “my bags, my bags”! The taxi screeched to halt and zigzagged in reverse to where my bags lay on the dusty road. The driver jumped out, picked up the bag and hauled it back on top of the taxi and off we shot off into the dusty road.
| 19 |
| Vote |
Subscribe to this blog





