In the early 90s I used to travel frequently as part of my job. One of my longer trips involved visiting a customer in Hurghada, Egypt. I had never been to Egypt before and I was completely unprepared for what awaited me.
At the time there were no direct flights to Hurghada so I had to stay a night in Cairo. The airport was heaving. I fought my way through customs only to be accosted by a gaggle of taxi drivers, all convinced I’d pick them. I pushed my way through this motley crew, annoyed that my Englishness had been ruffled. About 20 paces behind them was a solitary taxi driver. Maybe he was lucky. Maybe he was savvy, deliberately holding back, he’d seen this before. He asked if I needed a taxi. His timing was perfect. I was flustered and desperate to get out of that choking swamp of humanity. Yes, I did need a taxi. He took my case and showed me to his car. I’ll be polite and say that it was not the finest ride I have ever seen; it would have disintegrated during an MOT.
Off he drove, smoking, him and the car. Wires everywhere. Horn. Overtaking, weaving, dodging. Horn. Through crowds. Horn. At breakneck speed. Horn. Thus was the manner in which I arrived at the InterContinental Cairo Semiramis. We got out, he insisted on carrying my bag into the hotel and he asked if I was leaving tomorrow. I was. I had to leave at 6am the next morning for my flight to Hurghada. He asked if he could drive me. I was really starting to like this guy. I said that was fine.
The next morning I was ready to go at 6am. No taxi. I waited. I went outside trying to see his car. No luck. I waited until 6.30am. I was late, I had to go. The concierge arranged a chauffeur. Within minutes I was ushered into a well-polished Mercedes and on my way to the airport. I looked back, a mistake but I couldn’t help it. There in a side road by the hotel was my driver, asleep in his car.
Is this a confession? No. I waited as long as I could. I looked for the car. Should I have told the Mercedes to stop? No that would have been dumb, I was late already. I don’t feel guilty. Honestly. But it’s one of those things I shall never forget. I do hope he is not still waiting.