TDA - Days 8 and 9

Egypt

Hard days. Not physically, but mentally and emotionally for me. This is a damn race.

We left Luxor and continued basically along the Nile valley. Sugar cane harvest was at its peak and you could see men working on the plantations and lots of donkey carts and donkeys carrying huge loads of sugar cane. From behind you often could not see the donkey under its burden, just its skinny legs. And then again the men riding the tiny donkeys with their legs hanging down and almost touching the road looked very funny to me.
A lot of green, a lot of details I was trying to take in at riding speed: the colours of the women's dresses; the washed out colours of the square flat houses reflected in the canal; the colours of the soil and the many shades of green.
I would have liked to stop and watch but everybody seemed in a hurry to get to camp. I could see myself being passed by more and more people until I was last in front of the sweep.
Does nobody have eyes for this beauty? Does nobody care about anything other than the road ahead? Does nobody want to stop and just stare for a while at the reflections in the water? Or watch the donkeys and the people at work?

My frustration was taking over and my mind was not focusing any longer on what I was doing. I realized that I had started with wrong expectations and that I had to do something about it.

The children were more numerous and more enthusiastic. Their gestures went to such extremes as to throw rocks and sand at us, spit and grab our arms as we went by fast. I could really understand their frustration. We did not stop.

From Luxor we went to Edfu and from there to Aswan. By Aswan I had made up my mind. I was going to quit the tour. I wasn't there just to ride and I did not see any slack along the route. My bike seemed to also agree with me. A spoke broke leaving a hole in the rim. I had no spare rim. Duncan, our tour leader, convinced me to stay. The bike could be fixed. Sudan would be different, he said.

Actually, it wasn't just Duncan.

We had 4 Egyptian cyclists along with us from Cairo. Wonderful guys, nice and friendly, having their own frustrations to cope with: not finding any support in their own country for their enthusiasm; not finding the parts and accessories they needed for their bikes.
They would have loved to continue on the tour but they could not. I wished I could swap with one of them, but that was not possible. And when they came by to say good-bye and we hugged each other they wished me luck and to finish the tour safely and I just felt more miserable than ever. Here they were not being able to go on in spite of their enthusiasm. And me, with everything paid and arranged, was going to quit. What a spoilt brat I was.
I stayed. Thanks guys!