A street corner in Cairo - Sudanese Embassy waiting room
The Sudanese visa is notoriously tedious to procure. Air arrivals can get a visa at the airport, but land visitors need a visa in advance. The closest embassy to New Zealand is in Canberra, however this embassy only issues 3 month visas, valid from date of issue, which would be insufficient for this trip. Therefore the my fellow NZ resident, Marty Arrel, and I, were cutting it fine and applying for permission to enter Sudan a mere two weeks before our entry - at the Embassy in Cairo. There were a few others also doing this - some Canadians and an American.
Research before arriving in Cairo suggested the whole affair would require patience and a sense of humour:
'...you can definitely try [to get the visa] on your own. You will need to have the approval number and the letter we sent (attached) and it can take all day to get them to agree to give the visa sometimes. If they say no you need to demand to speak to the boss. Sounds involved but everyone always gets the visa - just takes some time and patience.' - Michael Coo, TdA point of contact
'the most difficult, tedious, and emotionally scarring stage of the Tour D’Afrique – sorting out their Sudanese visa at the embassy in Cairo.' - Brad Davis, previous TdA participant.
So, armed with passport, application form, letter of invitation, two passport pictures and $100 U.S. six of us voyaged to the Sudanese embassy, led by fearless leader Tallis, and the chef Myles. Having navigated our way through rush hour traffic, in which vehicle anarchy reigns, we arrived at the Embassy at about 10am. I hear Tallis say to Myles 'That's not a good start', referring to the sign saying no visas can be issued today. It later comes to light that this is because the visa issuer isn't at work today! Today was Thursday, in Egypt the weekend is Friday and Saturday, we leave on Sunday...today is the day to get the visa.
Some confused translations later, including phone calls to our Egyptian contact as a translator, the manager is called. He looks at our forms and tells us to come back in an hour. Dylan had
forgotten his passport photos, so while they go off to search for a photo facility, the rest of us go in search of caffeinated entertainment.
After about half an hour of wandering up and down a dusty, rubbish laden main road we find ourselves a male dominated Shisha bar. It is not somewhere I would have entered alone, and I was glad to have company to be able to enjoy the experience more fully. Females in Cairo are a rare sighting, usually clad in a full Burqa and they appear to be running errands rather than hanging out at coffee shops as the men do.
Returning to the embassy for 11, we passed over the next sheet of paper needed - our letter of invitation. Now to wait. Keeping warm in a patch of sun outside the embassy doorway we watched what I can only describe as musical cars. It appears that some self elected well dressed men fill their days searching out the owners of cars parked on the small street to ask them to shuffle their vehicles slightly - Ryan moved our vehicle at least 4 times in 5 hours...move forward so someone can park behind you, move over there so this truck can turn, move back so this car can get round the corner... It begs the question as to what happens when the vehicle owner can't be located, I suppose that explains the numerous dents in all the automobiles. We passed over passport pictures.
As the sun moved away from our patch at the doorway we were
forced to migrate 20m down the road to a still sunny street corner. We cracked out some camp chairs and settled in to our new viewing point. A great vantage point. First up was a dog called Bruno, a little Maltese on a lead, with three young girls. Great hilarity from these girls as this dog took a great sexual liking to their legs, proceeding to mate with them for about 7 minutes, until they/he lost interest.
A brief interlude of polite conversation within the group before we were interrupted from some loud shouts coming from the direction in which the girls had gone. While these shouts sounded angry they actually turned out to be more of a proclamation of arrival...an older looking (although
probably more middle aged, just well weathered) gentleman announcing the presence of his vegetable cart. He stood at our intersection for probably about half an hour. A series of local residents came out to buy red tomatoes, luscious cucumbers, baking potatoes and some other selection of greens, all weighed out on a set of balance scales and weights. Before departing he supplied us with a small cucumber each, Maurice also bought potatoes and tomatoes. Having one of the tour vehicles with us meant we could peal and consume our gifts...very welcome nourishment for our long wait. We passed over our money.
Once again a conversational interlude, a reappearance of Bruno (this time making a run for it on his own, with the three in hot pursuit and fits of screams), and some rumbling stomachs. While none of us were assuming we had visa, the signs were looking promising.
Someone must have heard our hunger pangs - the next visitor was a pair of men pushing a trolley with some form of hot liquid on board. Initially assumed to be tea we gathered around this new source of warmth and entertainment (the sun had now disappeared from our corner camp). Tea it was not, but more like a chickpea broth. Very tasty and all of 7cents (NZ).
Much to our delight, as the chick pea trolley pulled away, Tallis and Myles appeared...6 passports, with 6 Sudanese visas, 5 hours after arrival at the closed Embassy. TdA - making the impossible possible. What started out as a failed mission, and a bus ride to Aswan instead of a cycle to Aswan (the last place left for us to get a visa), was turned on it's head. The cycle was still on. T -2 days.
