14 December to 17 December 2018

Reading Lawrence Durrell’s novel Justine decades ago, which took place in Alexandria, conjured up exotic images and allured me even more than the history of Alexander the Great, the man it is named for. But now given the chance, I was reluctant to go. I feared the Alexandria of today could not live up to its past or my expectations.

The first choice for my last destination in Egypt had been the Siwa Oasis. However, it was about eleven hours from Cairo each way by bus–and only 30 miles from the Libyan border. With the short time remaining on my visa, that seemed like a lot of traveling, with some potential risks.

I decided to go to Alexandria after all.

Some misinformation days earlier at the Egypt Air ticket office had me on a flight from Abu Simbel to Cairo with a layover of two and one-half hours in Aswan (a direct flight had been available). Normally this kind of inconvenience is no big deal, but I’d eaten something the night before that as we say in polite company “did not entirely agree with me.” Getting to the airport on time that morning hadn’t been easy.

I’d left my hotel in Abu Simbel at 9am and arrived, feeling somewhat better, in Cairo at 4pm. I wasn’t keen on staying the night and decided to forge on to Alexandria. I hired a car service to pick me up from the Cairo airport and drive four hours directly to a hotel. Splurging $75, instead of negotiating taxis, buses, and trains, seemed to be more than a fair deal.

Amir, a young, soft-spoken, gentle man met me at the airport arrivals. He spoke English very well, guided me to the car, introduced me to the driver, Essam, and got me settled in. He handed me a bottle of water and some snacks. I was content to get comfortable in the back of the SUV. Essam was polite, but concentrated fully on the road and Amir sensed I was happy to say little. The only words that passed between us were those to insure I had everything I needed. Despite the heavy traffic both men remained relaxed and soft-spoken.

I’d found a hotel in Alexandria online but decided there was no need to book it in advance. Now nearly 9pm, we arrived. Amir accompanied me inside with my bag only to find the hotel was full. Although he and Essam would be needing to drive another four hours back to Cairo that evening, he showed only concern for me and insisted on taking me to the nearby Metropole Hotel the receptionist had suggested.

Fortunately that hotel, which looked as if Lawrence Durrel’s characters could have stayed there, had some rooms. Only when it was clear that I was taken care of did Amir leave.

It was a beautiful hotel built in 1902 with original fixtures, sweeping staircases, high-ceilings, guilded mirrors, and a large dining area. The metal detector and guard at the entrance did not blend in with the decor.

I was shown a huge, double room with a sea view that came with an equally stunning rate. I opted instead for a much more reasonable, cozy room that looked out on a busy street and KFC sign. Exhausted and still feeling queasy, I was delighted to get into a comfortable bed and order some tea and soup from room service.

I soundly slept eleven hours and feeling much better had some breakfast in the dining room where a few Egyptian tourists and business men were starting their day. I took a seat at a large round table and enjoyed the view of the harbor.

The sky was a bright blue and encouraged me to get out. I took a stroll along the animated waterfront.

Alexandria, despite being Egypt’s second largest city, does not have the overwhelming chaos and noise of Cairo. Traffic seemed almost subdued in comparison. Atmospheric cafes abound where mostly men, in a country that shuns alcohol, sip copious cups of tea, smoke, and chat. Women were usually accompanied, but not always. And given the large population of students attending university, the city had a freer more liberal air. Many young women were sitting, walking, and speaking freely with young men, as friends, that I hadn’t seen elsewhere. The dress code mostly remained, but social codes seemed different.

I headed directly to the modern Alexandria Library, near to where its glorious, ancient predecessor once stood. The structure is an extraordinary feat in design and engineering, but receives criticism for its cost, size, and insufficient volumes due to inadequate funding.

I fully enjoyed the guided tour of the facility by a young woman whose father had instilled in her a love of education, language, and literature. She spoke passionately about the library in an unaccented English, despite never being outside of Egypt. I took some time visiting the small but moving Sadat Museum honoring the legacy of Anwar Sadat, wandering through the book shelves, then resting while leafing through a copy of Albert Camus’ Notebooks.

I spent the remainder of my time in Alexandria near the water, visiting the citadel and listening to a worker singing a beautiful tune as he swept, exploring museums, having my picture taken at the request of the residents, and taking theirs, speaking at length with a woman from Beirut also staying in the Metropole, watching men fish, sipping cups of tea in the cafes, and enjoying the traces of the city’s past, and vibrancy of its present.