Pressureless paradise

By Peter Orr
Having mustered up the conviction that an escape from Cairo was possible, indeed necessary, there remained the task of deciding where to go and dealing with logistics.
Thus was Estragon -- you know the one, he of Waiting for Godot fame. There were so many places to which he had already been and would even go again, except ...
"Quseir: it would be nice to be on the beach, but there'll be too many package tourists. Aswan: It's warm, but I want to be by the sea and it's too far for a short trip. Alex: I've been there so many times. Nuweiba: Can't afford the plane and the bus takes too long ..."
Such soliloquising could have gone on forever had it not been for outside intervention. Luckily not one, but two, Godots showed up and took "executive decisions" on their mutual friend's behalf: 1) They would go to a place to which Estragon had never been, thereby eliminating all the above-mentioned options. 2) It would not be a "holiday village" type of place. 3) It would be within a couple of hours of Cairo, 4) on the water, 5) low budget and 6) "We're leaving tomorrow."
All of this to explain how three Cairenes went to Port Said without the intention to shop. Indeed, duty-free shopping is no longer an incentive to go to Port Said, what with most goods now making their way to Cairo. This, in turn, explains the decline of tourism there, which is too bad. Port Said is a very attractive town, almost idyllic in the winter, pedestrian- and children-friendly, the perfect sort of place for a simple, no-pressure jaunt out of Cairo.
And so it happened: we met downtown and proceeded to the Turgoman bus station, bought our tickets (LE15 each) and at 11am (buses to Port Said leave on the hour every hour) were on our way. Despite the shuddering of the bus on its way to the Heliopolis bus stations (Gisr Al-Suweiss and Almaza) and out of the city, despite Estragon's leering neighbour, despite the locked lavatory door and the oversized tea-lady, the three-hour bus trip was quite pleasant, with the distraction of an unintentionally hilarious film of dastardly deeds and revenge.
We left Cairo with neither guidebook nor hotel reservations, just some vague recommendations from various friends, relatives and acquaintances. Arriving in Port Said, we took a taxi (white and blue -- already giving a different impression from Cairo's dark and dirty beasts) to Al-Gomhouriya Street (which, unlike Cairo's, still boasts long stretches of intact arcades) where there were two recommended hotels, the Holiday and De la Poste. The latter, with its closed-in balconies and old-fashioned character, suited us just fine. That the price of each enormous self-contained room -- complete with verandah and fridge -- came to only LE34 added to its charm.
Founded in 1859 with the start of the Suez Canal excavation and named after Viceroy Said Pasha, Port Said is a stroller's dream come true. If your idea of a long walk is to turn your back on the shapes and sounds of urban life and take a Romantic (re?)turn to nature -- wind, water, sky -- Port Said provides. But it also offers the space beloved of Baudelaire types: definitely urban/commercial, with its arcades, sidewalk cafés, etc, but faded, genteel.
There is an elevated walkway along the waterfront, with the Suez Canal on one side and a lighthouse and some "portside colonial" style buildings on the other. It was a Thursday afternoon, the air was fresh, the sun was out, and there were few other people walking beside the water. We had already had the thrill of seeing, from our bus only a few metres away, giant ships in the canal, all the more impressive against the backdrop of the desert on the other side. So it was more for the peacefulness this instilled in us that we were so impressed with this wall of a walkway. Having reached the northern end of it and the canal, we continued our stroll along the beach. Port Said is not only a canal city but also a Mediterranean one, the latter fact contributing to its laid-back, quietly cosmopolitan character. The beach itself has nothing to rival those of Egypt's famous resort towns, but is extraordinary in its being free of direct encroachment of roads and development. Thus a walk on the sand, stooping occasionally for shells, or along the walkway, is available to everyone, and yet it is not at all crowded.
Our long walk required no dodging of cars, no sidestepping of potholes, and thus seemed a rare treat. We turned around, retracing our steps along the beach. Half past four, an hour before sunset, the time of day most flattering to fading gentility. We strolled through the city centre: it must have been siesta time, although Port Said is so peaceful that it often seems like siesta time. Wrought iron, a sudden date palm, laundry fluttering in the breeze, an occasional cyclist, one beautiful building with peeling paint after another and the light is golden -- all taken in by the gaze of the stroller who can afford to look around and up, thanks to the generously wide, evenly paved pavements. The streets are thrillingly easy to cross, and the city's inhabitants are so polite that one can enjoy being invisible.
We stopped for drinks at the Cecil, Port Said's equivalent of Cairo's Al-Horreya, minus the coffee and tea -- or even Birrell, though you can get Sprite. This is a no "minimum charge", LE5.50 per Stella drinker's bar with few frills, but both the place itself -- quietly civilised, comfortable -- and the smiling and almost dapper manager had a certain charm, ensuring that we would become "temporary regulars."
From the Cecil we set off to Al-Borg, not a tower but a seafood restaurant which, together with Al-Amin, is on Toreh Al-Bahr Street and had been recommended to us more than once. Al-Borg was as good as promised. Seafood soup and a slew of salads, salt-baked buri and grilled barbuni, fried squid and shrimp kofta (the only disappointment) were all brought in quick succession. The service was impeccable, the waiter insisting that we try a tagen and molukhiya with bits of shrimp, and bringing us creme caramel for dessert, also on the house. A scrumptious and enormous dinner for three -- with much left over -- came to LE137.
Our digestif was a long walk, not along the restaurant-lined Toreh Al-Bahr St -- which seems to be the Port Saidi Thursday night hang-out, whether en famille, en groupe or en couple -- but along the beach walkway which we had enjoyed earlier, just parallel to Toreh Al-Bahr and now well-lit. Although it was quiet enough to hear the waves lapping the shore, there were enough Port Saidis around to dispel any worries about safety. From the beach walkway, one takes a right then a left back to the canal. The two-towered mosque on the other side which seemed to shimmer above the water by day was at night something of an Egyptian Kourou or Cape Canaveral, with the launch pad lit up in preparation to send the two towering rockets hurtling towards the heavens.
And now, a confession: the change from Cairo can be almost eerie, but even on the following morning, as we sat at the Hotel de la Poste's under-the-arcade sidewalk café, Estragon remained adamantly ecstatic: "It's so peaceful here! It's so quiet!" Just a little too quiet for a hard-core city dweller -- and then, from across a major intersection, a small, mustachioed man of indeterminate nationality barks out: "Woah! Change money?!"
Quickly recovering from that David Lynchesque encounter, we proceeded to breakfast at the Papaye restaurant, which offers neither spinach nor tropical fruits, but serves up a simple and adequate meal -- eggs, bread and fresh juice for three coming to LE19 -- and has tables under an arcade that gets the late morning sun. "Port Said," one of us said contentedly, "is somewhere between purgatory and paradise."
From Purgadise we hopped on the frequent and free ferry to Port Fouad. Though the ride takes only 10 minutes, in the fresh air one had a taste of travelling by sea. Port Said's sister city, with numerous colonial-style villas, is mostly residential and pleasant enough to walk around. We found a tiny public beach next to Port Fouad's Nadi Al-Seid. Apart from two other shell-pickers, we had the beach to ourselves, and searched (successfully) for driftwood and seaglass, sipped mint tea and Fairouz provided by the café, dipped into pre-packed reading material. A few hours of total relaxation before hopping back on the ferry, taking in the charming Suez Canal Administration building as we approached Port Said.
One of us had to catch the bus back to Cairo (the last leaves at 7pm), leaving the other two to find their way to Port Said's conveniently located (upstairs from the Cecil) Korean restaurant. Spring rolls, chilli cabbage, crab and sweetcorn soup, grilled shrimp, seafood in oyster sauce, seafood fried rice and drinks, all delicious for only LE130.
Next morning we had breakfast at Five Stars, Al-Gomhouriya Street's fast-food joint. Fuul, taamiya, eggs, salads and tea came to less than LE10. Sated, the two holiday makers made their way to the bus station and headed home.
Estragon had had a jolly good, anxiety-free time.
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