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Hi from Cairo Airport!
My 10-day trip through Egypt has come to an end. I have to confess it did remind me of my journey through Ethiopia seven years ago (just this bus to Tis Abay episode for illustration).
In this country, more often than not, an offered service or product costs more to Westerners. Even when you book a ride through a reputable app, such as Uber, inDrive, or GetTransfer, you should not completely trust that the quoted price is the final one. During the ride, or just moments before it (when it’s maybe too late to consider changes and cancellations), your driver might try to extort sums that can be multiple times higher than what you agreed on.
Maybe Africa is like this. Maybe that’s how we made it. Instead of leaving tourists an option to reward hard work, it is expected that we should just keep wallets available for self-service to anyone openly demanding money, whether deserved or not.
Paradoxically, sometimes a shamelessly demanded tip can be larger than the price of the main service or product. It almost seems the main economy evolves around what’s not on the bill – in unfair practices.
It is the same with rides where a driver says goodbye with an open palm, stores where a bottle of water costs 2-5 times more for you while being presented as a special discount, accommodations where a receptionist doesn’t ask ‘how was your stay?’ but ‘where is the envelope?’, or temples and historical sites where, almost by rule, you can reach the exit only after passing a maze of merchants aggressively pushing products for “just a dollar”. Hmm, alert! Things never stop at a dollar here.
Anyway, it is as it is. After all, I don’t live in this reality, and I might never be able to understand all its nuances. I can only express stress induced by the monitoring of my performance when it comes to the not-always-voluntary action of rewarding the service in Egypt.
I’m coming back to Europe, where reality is definitely different. Not necessarily less bizarre.
A mature couple sitting next to me on the plane asks me if they can take my sickness bag. They don’t need to use it; it’s for their friends. And no, those friends are not collectors of strange travel memorabilia; they are just throwing a party, and asked the flyers to get them at least three (3) vomit bags. It’s a precise calculation as party organizers are not doing this for the first time.
It is as it is. Maybe I don’t live in that reality either, and I don’t understand all the nuances. My fellow seatmates with carry-on barf bags get off in Frankfurt, Germany, and I continue towards Basel, Switzerland.
If you can plan a trip to this latitude next autumn, pin my freshly published guide on Basler Herbstmesse for your reference.
Basel Autumn Fair had its own army of swindlers back in its early days. Today, you mostly get what you pay for. It’s not the Middle Ages anymore, after all.
One of the largest European inner-city fairs will be celebrating its 555th anniversary in 2026, and I’m sure this medieval child will prepare a spectacular survivor birthday. So be there next October/November!
Have a fair week,
Ivan Kralj
Pipeaway.com
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