Discovering true love in Egypt
On the first night in Cairo, whilst I and one other caught up on sleep, the rest of the group ate at a local Egyptian restaurant and arrived in reception the next morning with their hands clutching their chests, claiming they were in love. With juice.
Apparently the range and quality of the juice (lemon and mint, mango, strawberry… the list was endless) was so exceptional it was beyond description. My roomate and I looked at each other with raised eyebrows and shrugged with a, ‘Um, ok, we’ll take your word for it’. But it had begun - every restaurant, cafe, street stall and city was judged on its juice, to the point where the boys would drink three before a meal and two during, and our table was always filled with empty glasses with no room for food.
The enthusiasm was contagious, and soon we were all in on the game - a mango juice wasn’t good enough unless all you were doing was consciously trying to suck up chunks of mango through a straw, and failing. The strawberry had to be fresh and tart but not bitter, and of course size and presentation mattered.
The waiters always had a twinkle in their eye when we confirmed the juice order - was it so unusual? Did we discover a hidden jewel of Egypt? Or just catching on to what everyone else already knew? No matter, we had fallen in love, and it’s hard to think straight when you have 10 choices of heaven on the menu. Food was an afterthought.
True, Egypt had exceeded all expectations to date, but who would have though our tour leader would say, ‘Our next stop is Dahab, you will love it!’ to be met with a chorus of polite smiles and nods, before saying,’And they have the most amazing juices!’ preceeding the kind of palpable excitement reserved for teenage girls at a Justin Timberlake concert.
Love just doesn’t make sense.
-Sarah
Tags: Egypt, Travel
