I wanted a beer and I wanted it in Alexandria. What to do? I flew to Egypt and took a bus to coastal Alexandria. I found a bar and had my beer, ice cold in Alex.
Those of a certain age will know Ice Cold in Alex. In the novel, later to be a film, a British officer struggles across the North African desert while dreaming of a cold beer.
The original plan had been to have my beer in the old Spitfire Bar near the Corniche. Despite its name, the bar was opened in the early 1900s and may be the oldest in Alexandria. However, tired after a day in the Western Desert, I (unimaginatively) resorted to the bar on my ship.
But this is getting ahead of myself. As well as a beer in Alexandria, I had wanted to go to Libya. First time readers may want to read my sad posting from October of last year. Here's the link:
http://trainsandboatsandplanesandtheoddbus.blogspot.com/2009/10/libya-trip-that-wasnt.html
Past readers will remember my first attempt to get to Libya came to an unfortunate end. However, a few months ago, another possible route materialized. This, if it worked, would avoid the excruciating process of obtaining a visa for independent travel in Libya (translation of passport into Arabic; sudden increases in fees and capricious rule changes during the application process). I might, unless Libya again peevishly barred Canadians, be able to enter on a group visa. Someone else could handle the Libyans. And then I would be able to see two rarely visited Greek and Roman cities, among the most magnificent on the Mediterranean.
Aside from obstreperous Libyans, there were other concerns. Shortly before my departure came news that Saturday, November sixth, was to be another day of anti-government protests in France. That was my day for transiting Paris. A previous protest had meant about a third of the flights through Charles de Gaulle airport were cancelled.
Originally, I was booked on relatively easy Air France flights from Toronto through Paris to Cairo. Instead, it was Toronto to Atlanta, Georgia; from Atlanta back over eastern Canada to London and onto Alexandria. From home to ship took twenty-eight hours and forty-five minutes.
After a few hours sleep, I stumbled out onto the deck for sunrise in Alexandria.
For Westerners, Alexandria has a seedy charm. There’s the writing of E.M. Forster, Graham Greene, Lawrence Durrell (The Alexandra Quartet) and the city’s ‘International Period’ (1860-1940), when Alex had 300,000 Alexandrian Greeks, many British and French officials, soldiers and sailors, making for a cosmopolitan mix.
A few Greek restaurants and cafés remain. One, Delices Patisserie, is a local landmark. Here's Delices from a 1920s photo.
It's still here with the same recipes and managed by the same family.
Next posting, Churchill's 'end of the beginning', the World War II battlefield of El Alamein.
