LAZY LANDING : CAIRO AIRPORT

The garbled welcome message from the cockpit sounded more Arabic than English. The only words I could catch at the end of the rushed monotone message was the sing song THANYOU. Soon with cell phones squeaking, squealing and coming alive one knew it was time to disembark.

There was no big rush. The flight had arrived virtually empty. And why not? When lunch is doled out like free ads in cheap plastic packets to be taken home (because it is Ramadan and many don't eat in the aircraft) or a drink is thrust across in a plastic glass (by a grey haired furrowed face, making a desperate attempt to flash a James Bond smile), one wishes one had swam across the Red Sea instead. At the cost of sounding non-feminist, if grandmas as stewardesses (a la Indian Airlines) made you feel creepy, think again. Grandpas waiting with toothy grins along the aisle, hoping you had a wonderful journey, is far worse. But that is Egypt Air.

I have been on Cam Air to Afghanistan and was more than surprised to find at bevy of Afghan beauties in their crew back in 2007. Egypt is by far the most liberal of the Middle East countries. I couldn't imagine why then men with one leg into the grave where given the challenging task of looking after the passengers on board. (Had it been Bangladesh Biman I could have still reasoned it out and you know why!)


Once outside the new terminal of the Cairo Airport (modern, spacious, comfortable and swanky), what hit me immediately was the nip in the air and an easy familiarity - Even with the sun beating down the breeze was refreshingly cool, like a hill station. I thought Egypt would be hot and sultry and sweaty! Not this time of the year! With the summer winding down the weather is unbeatable.

Next was the sight, the sound, the smell. Life looked laid back, humdrum and humble. Porters, taxi drivers, cleaners - stalky men, with short cropped hair - all looked strangely familiar. Here too seedy hotel touts appeared from all corners, talking incessantly, grabbing at your arm, pushing you around, making their point in Arabic, then getting lost in the jostling crowd, just as mysteriously. The taxis pulling in were a medley of antiquated cars. Most local passengers were arriving with battered suitcases, duffel bags and assorted bundles. Tourists of course thronged the place and were walking around with translators and their copies of Lonely Planets. It smelled back home.



Patches of manicured lawns with shiny boulders, artifacts, flags and palm trees flanked the short drive from the airport to the ring road. A huge signage of Cairo Airport in white blocky alphabets stood atop the plateau at the end making a stunning Hollywood statement. There was a rush of excitement down the spine. This place the cradle of civilization has been a desert for eons with one of the most amazing wonders of the world. Modern Cairo would have many other stories to tell. I waited impatiently for it to unfold its mystery to me.