I have.
The place: Cairo.
Seriously.
I almost didn't make it out of Cairo that day. (Okay, that might be a little bit exaggerated... MAYBE.)
I arranged for a taxi to take me two places that inauspicious morning.
First, to the Pyramids. I wanted to snap a few photos.
Second, to the airport, to leave the Middle East for Europa.
All I wanted was to drive up to the Pyramids, stop, take some photos and then go catch my flight. I had timed accordingly, requesting the taxi pick me up three hours before my flight would depart.
Well.
I wasn't specific enough. That was my bad.
You see, being an Westerner and therefore unused to the idea that everyone around you in the Middle East expects you to be drippingly rich and stupid enough to be bamboozled into parting with your money, I was bamboozled into parting with my money!
Ugh!
It was the second time in two days.
The cab driver, who supposedly didn't speak any English, drove me over to the pyramids and then kept driving... It was not unlike the time in Venezuela that I wanted to go into Caracas but the cab driver kept going past Caracas... (Thought I was going to die... but anyway.) We drove over to a little souvenir village on the far side of the pyramids and parked in front of a store where two men were waiting with a raggedy looking white horse with very tall, spindly legs.
One of the two men, with a big pot belly and a dishonest gleam in his eye welcomed me and immediately helped me onto the horse, while I was busy protesting and confused about why I was getting onto the bloody animal to begin with. I had no desire to ride a horse around the pyramids! I didn't have time for it, I was still saddle sore from the previous (awesome) day of horse riding and I realllllllly didn't want to smell like a horse on the airplane!
Well.
Before I could un-bamboozle myself, I'd been switched to a different (less naggish) horse (when they found I had been riding the previous day and could ride) and given a "free" guide (mandatory) to take me around the pyramid park and show me all 9 pyramids...
The fat man in charge told me some ridiculous price for the horse tour for Two hours time.
I was exstatic! A way out!
I had neither two hours or anywhere near his asking price in cash. I started to dismount and then somehow I ended up negotiating a "reasonable" price for the ride (basically most of my leftover Egyptian poundage).
Except I still didn't want to be riding that blasted horse! Ugh.
The guide was very friendly, which is probably the only reason I stayed on the darned animal.
When did I become such a pushover? When I got to Egypt, that's when.
Time seems to be a very fluid concept many places outside of the US/UK. Have you experienced this? I repeatedly told my guide I had only 45 minutes to see the pyramids and he kept talking about the long route we would take and see everything! Finally after about 15 minutes I told him very firmly, "In ten minutes we have to turn around and go back or I will miss my flight!"
Look at how teeny-tiny the sphinx is!
So finally Mr. Tourguide put the kibbosh on the long tour and took me directly to the lookout point for the biggest set of pyramids, I snapped some pix and then got back in the cab, fairly steamed at my driver for bringing me to the horse place (where he had very obviously arranged to received a kick-back on anything I paid.)
The ride to the airport was uncomfortable. I was mad. I didn't trust the driver. And when we stopped seeing signs for the airport on the freeway I became concerned. The driver pulled over to the side of the freeway... and then he opened the trunk... ? I have no idea why. He got on his phone and began making calls, looking very suspicious and speaking in heated, rapid Egyptian.
Meanwhile, I'm sitting in the back seat of the car. My bag is in the trunk with the cab driver on the phone next to it. I can see him through the space between the trunk and bottom of the car through the back windshield. I start contemplating what I'd do if I needed to make a break for it:
1. Phone is in my hand. Call the operator for help.
2. My daypack is with me in the back of the car. Grab it.
3. Run.
4. Hide.
That's all I could plan. I had no weapon as I was packed for a flight. We were stopped on the side of a busy freeway on a wide, flat, open expanse of desert. The nearest anything was at least a mile away on either side of the freeway (ritzy housing developments with green grass and palm trees).
I kept rehearsing the self defense pattern from Miss Congeniality: S.I.N.G. (Soloplex, Instep, Nose, Groin).
Finally, as I made to grab the door handle of the cab and get out, the driver (who had been watching me watch him) got back into the driver's seat and we hit the road again. I kept my eyes glued on him. He looked very nervous.
I'm really not sure what that whole thing was about. But obviously when you're a female traveling solo, you're going to be on the defensive when you're uncomfortable. Listen to your gut. It's normally right. Mine said this situation was shady.
After switching directions on the freeway and backtracking at least ten miles we finally made it to the airport. I had around 45 minutes until my flight was scheduled to depart. I hopped out of the cab and shot daggers at the driver with my eyes. He still looked shady. When I got into the airport I did a once-over of my bag - all of the exterior compartments and easily accessible areas. Heaven forbid anything be put into my bag that would cause problems in the airport!
Then I checked in. Apparently checking in with only 45 minutes to spare in Cairo really isn't a big deal.
BUT.
Don't expect to be able to print out your boarding pass at the airport there! Ridiculous.... Ten minutes of running around like mad to print off my documents, followed by very un-thorough security screenings and I was in the terminal, then on the plane, which was gloriously nearly 3/4 empty so I had an entire row to myself in which I could smell like a horse without feeling bad about it.
I never relaxed until the flight touched down in Malta and I'd left behind all traces of Cairo.
I won't be spending anymore time in Cairo on my own, I think.
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