: Frankie Hogan
: Livin' From the Amsterdam Red Light to the African Bush
: Wharton Reed Publishing
: 9780998728919
: 1
: CHF 9.40
:
: Ratgeber
: English
: 260
: DRM
: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet
: ePUB
In spite of a lifelong passion for travel, author Frankie Hogan admits that he often fell victim to 'life getting in the way' until he decided, once and for all, to stop giving in to easy excuses, stop yielding to the reasons not to-and stop the cycle of procrastinating, putting off and waiting for the right time, the right circumstances, and the right companions. It was time, Frankie decided, to get out there and see the world, to take in the history, nature and nightlife of places far away from home. It was time to get out of his own way and travel-really travel-to off-the-beaten-path, exotic, far-flung destinations. And Hogan, a South Philly native and streetwise everyman, did just that. Livin' is the story of the ride, the road, and the reward.

EGYPT

Back in 2011, I had been days away from booking the trip when the revolution hit. Let’s just say being white as Casper and an American to boot, I wanted to let tensions die down. When I started to tell people I was headed to Cairo in the spring of 2013, I still collected a lot of someone-just-shit-on-my-lap looks. But the way I see it is, how long is long enough? 2014? 2020? People who want to “give it a few more years” never get there. That being said, my flight was on a Tuesday and the two big news stories coming out of Cairo that weekend were related to an American who was stabbed outside the embassy, and three Al-Qaeda members who were arrested for planning attacks on Western targets in the city. My mom loved that. But I had some Indiana Jones shit to attendto.

I flew Lufthansa from Toronto to Frankfurt to Cairo. The food on German flights is always on point. It looks like globs of shit in a goulash, and all you can make out is the beef, but it tastes like heaven on a plate. When I eat goulash, I always feel like Uncle Argyle from the movieBraveheart. Sloppin’ shit on bread with my hands … eatin’ like a man … dig that. On the flight from Germany to Cairo, let’s just say the demographic changed. It made me think that airport security profilers back in the States would’ve delayed this motha something wicked. But that’s all part of the ride, man. The rush of new experience. I was in the small minority of men without a keffiyeh on that flight, and it brought a smile to my face. And flying into Cairo with clear skies is one of the best views a traveler can ask for. The roads look like lines in the sand of a giant beach.Beautiful.

When the flight landed, I walked into a sea of not-so-controlled chaos. Swarms of people moved quickly in all directions. I followed a group of Germans from my plane who looked as if they had their shit together. After a short walk, we came to a line of Egyptian men who held signs with names on them (which I thought was odd, as we hadn’t passed through customs or retrieved our bags). I saw my name and walked over. Ibraham, a slick-haired, fast-talking, fast-moving guide was there to grab me.

“Hogan? All right. This way.”

And we were off! Horse-racing speed. I had trouble keeping up with him through the crowds and all the twists and turns to customs. We finally made it to a stand, not so well marked.

Ibraham turned to me. “Fill out this form. Give me your passport and twenty American dollars, and wait here.”

He took my passport and money and vanished into the crowd. I filled out the form and waited long enough to think,Man, wouldn’t that be something if the dude got m