Warning: I’m trying to record everything that happens to me, so my writing might be rambling and boring.

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By accident, I was in Cairo, illegally.

I arrived in Sharm el-Sheik at around 6pm. My flight from Sharm el-Sheik was at 6am the next day. Few days before, I had found a CouchSurfing host. But I thought that it’d be inconsiderate to wake them up that early in the morning, so I decided to spend the night at the airport.

Sharm el-Sheik is the worst airport ever! It only had few coffee shops and none of it had wi-fi. The public telephones weren’t working. Once inside, there is no way you can contact the outside world. I borrowed the phone of a waiter at a cafe and called Melissa (my supposed-to-be host in Sharm el-Sheik) to let her know that I’d stay at the airport. It was fate that she would have to wake up early as well to go diving. Melissa and Daniel, her boyfriend, seemed to be really cool, so I decided to go to their place, and I couldn’t be happier about that decision. They are a down to earth couple who met when they were traveling, and now they are taking a short break from their travel in Egypt. Damn, why does this miracle never happen to me?

I left early next day to the airport. I was so sleepy that I forgot to ask about my connecting flight from Cairo to Ethiopia, and only checked in for Sharm el-Sheik – Cairo. Arriving in Cairo, I was about to go straight to the transfer zone when a guy told me that I had to collect my luggage and check in at the international airport. The reason why I booked the flight from Sharm el-Sheik is because I’m only allowed to go to Sinai (Sinai is a special economic zone of Egypt. Everybody is granted a free 14-day visa on arrival to visit Sinai only. To go to other parts of Egypt, like Cairo, you have to get an Egyptian visa). I arrived at the domestic airport which means there was no customs and before I knew it, I was out in Cairo. Excited, I called Amr – my ex-host and whose grandma I love as my own grandma. I just wanted to see them again. Hooka and Amr came to pick me up from the airport. Amr was worried about my situation:

- You’ll be illegal in Cairo, right?

- Yes.

- Are you sure you can go out?

- I don’t know. But if there is something wrong, I already did it. It makes no difference whether I stay back here or go to your place. I’m already outside the airport.

- What if they won’t let you check out?

-  Nah, they won’t keep me here, but they will probably interrogate me for a long time and fine me some money.

Talking bold like that but I was actually very worried. What if they keep me there for a long time and I miss flight? What if they fine me and I have no money to pay? Dat, my Vietnamese friend in Cairo, gave me the number of somebody from the Vietnamese embassy to call in case of trouble.

Hooka looked tired and angry because of the traffic. I offered him some water. He refused.

- It’s Ramadan.

- No, it’s just water.

- Hahaha – both Amr and Hooka laughed. – We can’t drink water.

OMG, so when they say you can’t drink during Ramadan, they actually mean water! I’d always thought that they meant alcohol. How the hell are you supposed to survive in this 45 degree desert weather? No wonder all people I met there looked they were about to faint.

My flight was at 2.50am but I wanted to get there early so that I could manage in case of trouble. Amr and his friend dropped me there, but it was too early that the check-in wasn’t open. I found a fancy cafe. Seeing me all gray and tired, the manager showed me a reclusive spot to sleep and even woke me up before my flight.

I put on my most loveable face and went through customs. The immigration officer looked at my passport, then immediately got up to see his manager.

5 minutes waiting for him was like a century. The guy behind me asked to borrow my last pen. I reminded myself to get it back. Pen is something trivia but very important, especially for those who take note a lot like me. But I was so nervous that I totally forgot about it. Finally he came back. He gave my passport to the next immigration officer and told me to wait on one side.

“Oh no, I’m doomed”. But just when I was about to have a heart attack, the other officer stamped my passport and gave it back to me. Woohoo, I was like running to the boarding gate! Goodbye Egypt, welcome Ethiopia!

Lesson to learn: So technically, everybody (even we Vietnamese) can enter Egypt without a visa if they arrive in Sinai! If you’re scared, enter from Sinai (Taba border, Sharm el-Sheik aiport, etc.), travel around Egypt and exit again from Sinai. Just DO NOT tell the immigration officer that you want to travel outside Sinai. Nobody will check your passport once you are inside Egypt.

Tags: Airport, Cairo, Chip, Customs, Egypt, Illegal, Sharm el-Sheik, Sinai, Tips, travel, Travel and Write, Travel Diary, Vietnam, Vietnamese passport, Visa

The reason why I wanted to go to Eilat was to cross border to Sinai, Egypt, and flew from there to Ethiopia. It’d be much cheaper to fly from Jordan or Cairo, but I didn’t have enough time to get visa to either Jordan or Egypt. Sinai is the only place that lets me (an virtually everyone) in for free for 14 days. My flight is on the 5th of August, but since Asher and Joe, my very good friends in Israel, are also coming to Sinai for a trip, I thought it’d be fun to spend few days with them They took the bus from Tel Aviv to Eilat, and I hitchhiked. We planned to meet at the border and took a cab together to Bir Sweir.

But when Yoni was about to drop me at the border, Asher called to tell me that he wasn’t allowed to leave Israel with his withering passport. It was wet and a page was going off. They already found an overpriced hotel to stay overnight in Eilat to try again tomorrow. Asher told me to go ahead because Ki-Jung (a Korean friend we met in Nepal) was waiting there for us alone, and they would see me in Sinai the next day.

I planned to do so at first, but then I thought that there was a good chance Asher would still be denied exit, and I wouldn’t be able to say Goodbye to him once I got out of Israel. I decided to stay back in Eilat to wait for them. Yoni offered me a place to stay. I called Asher several times to let him know but he didn’t pick up. Assuming that he was taking a shower, I told Yoni to turn around and went back to the city. But when I was already in the city, Asher told me that they decided to go to the border to try again.

- Damn it, I’m already in the city. I don’t think it’d be fair to ask Yoni to take me to the border again. You go ahead. If they let you out, I’ll see you in Sinai tomorrow. If not, let’s meet again in the city tonight.

But Joe was so sick of this whole balagal. He dismissed Asher’s enthusiasm and went to sleep.

Yoni’s place is a really nice 2 bedroom apartment right in the heart of the city, overlooked the sea. He made me dinner with schnitzel and sausages, while he just made himself an omelet and ate only the red part. He pointed at his tummy. On diet. Then he gave me a free tour at Nightmare – the scary house that he owes. Later he took me to the Center Mall to meet Asher. Joe was so tired that he stayed back.

- Friend speak Ivrit?

I shook my head. – Only English.

Yoni looked disappointed. He said he was tired, told me to go with Asher, he’d wait for me at Nightmare.

- He’s cute. – remarked Asher.

- You think he’s nice to me b/c he expects something back?

- You mean if he expects you to sleep with him?

- Hmm, let’s see. – I was really confused.

Asher looked tired and worn out. The whole balagal cost him hell lot of time and money. I was there to add to his burden. He was hungry but we were both broke. Eilat is expensive even in Israeli standard. It’s a touristic place, everything is at touristic price.

- Gonna try again with your passport tomorrow?

- Yeah. I fixed the torn out page with glue. It looks almost normal now.

- Cool. What time?

- As early as possible. Yoni will drop you at the border?

- He told me so. But I really don’t know. If he expects something back, I’m afraid he will be disappointed by tomorrow.

We checked out the night market and other passing by tourists, then we headed back to Nightmare. There Yoni made an amazing gesture, he offered to drop Asher at his hotel.

We got back to Yoni’s place. I was so tired so I went to my room, closed the door and slept. I have never slept that well in my life. The mattress, the pillow, the blanket, everything is so comfy, and the a/c at 18 degree is a real luxury.

Asher called to wake me up early. Yoni woke up right after me. I felt bad about it. He offered to take me to the border. He even stopped by the hotel to pick Asher and Joe up. While waiting for them to get ready, I sneaked into the hotel’s dining room and had free breakfast. At the border, Yoni gave me his card and insisted that I call him if I needed any help.

- He’s a genuinely nice guy who enjoys helping people out. – Asher said when we got off. I couldn’t agree more.

We held the breath when the immigration officer checked Asher’s passport. She put his name in the computer and frowned.

- You came here yesterday and they told you to go to the Ministry of Interior?

- Yes – Asher painfully admitted. “Ha, you think that you can fool Israeli’s immigration officers?”

- Did you go?

- No.

- Why not?

- I thought that it would be ok.

- I’ll call the supervisor.

The supervisor came.

- Why didn’t they let you go yesterday?

- Because my passport was wet.

- OK, I’ll go get a photocopy of it.

She disappeared and came back like 15 minutes later.

- What made you think that the answer today would be different?

- I don’t know. I’ve used my passport a lot, so I decided to just try again.

She disappeared again, this time much longer. Asher started blaming himself.

- I should have told her about the torn out page. Apparently she called the yesterday officer and she knew that I was hiding information from her. Oh, I should have got my passport done a long time ago.

- Why didn’t you?

- They told me that it would take at least 3 weeks. I need my passport with me.

Joe started getting mad.

- Damn it, I’m going back to the North. – He walked out and didn’t come back.

- Where did he go? – I was worried. What if he really went back to the North?

- Smoke.

I started thinking what I would do if he was really denied exit. My Israel’s visa was about to expire in a few days, it didn’t make any sense for me to all the way up North. It’d be too expensive for me to take the taxi to Bir Sweir by myself. I heard there was no traffic there to even hitchhike.

The supervisor finally came back and gave us the news: one good, one bad. The bad news was that Asher couldn’t get out of the country with this passport. The good news was that he could get a new one within few hours at the Ministry of Interior in Eilat. “Just tell them that it’s emergency.”

We rushed to the Ministry, and it really took like 2 hours to get a new passport. We also ran into some old friends there. Israel is a small country! We screamed when Asher got his new shiny passport.

- Sorry for being such a bitch. – said Joe. It takes a man to do it. Suddenly all the hard feelings were gone. We were happier than ever.

We crossed the border with no difficulty. Soon enough, the taxi took us to one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen in my life. In the middle of the arid desert, surrounded by rocky mountains, suddenly raised a whole bunch of palm-roofed huts, next to white sand and blue beaches.

- Epic journey. – Asher summed up the whole balagal.

- It’s worth it, isn’t it?

Tags: Egypt, Israel, Passport, Sinai, Taba Border, travel, Travel and Write, Travel Diary, Visa

My romance with Egypt didn’t go very well. First, I decided to skip Pakistan and Iran and fly directly to Egypt for a sole reason: visa. I was tired of all the embassy hustle and I thought Egypt was going to give me visa on arrival. She doesn’t. I only found out about that 10 days before my scheduled flight. It turned out that it’s super complicated for a Vietnamese to get Egyptian visa in Nepal. After hundreds of phone calls, 3 times traveling to the embassy which is 2 hours by bus and walk, invitation letter sent from an Egypt, sponsorship letter faxed from Vietnam, 2 interviews, hours of waiting at the embassy, harassment by an Egyptian employee, I got single entry visa (I applied for multiple!) just one day before my flight.

Having spent more than 3 months in Nepal doing almost nothing, I couldn’t wait to leave. Yet when all necessary ceremonies were done: farewell to be said and tears to be shed, I was ready to go to the airport when I found out from FlyDubai website that my booking was changed to the day after, and they didn’t even bother to inform me either by email or phone. When Asher called their representative office, they went so far to claim that I was a lunatic who booked the flight for tomorrow but thought that I booked for today. I went back to the hotel I just checked out to stay for one more night, but all the rooms were already taken. Feeling sorry for me, the manager arranged a mattress in the storage room and let me stay one night for free.

I got to Kathmandu airport the next day just to realize that my Nepali visa was expired the day before. After half an hour explaining to the immigration office that it was the airlines’ fault, not mine, they let me go without paying fine. The departure tax was included in the ticket, so I spent the rest of my Nepali money on a big pack of candies. I don’t eat candies, but you never know when you meet some kids and you just wish you have something sweet to give them.

It was a long flight, 10 hours fly plus 4 hours transit at Dubai airport. I didn’t see much of the Dubai airport, but the budget arrival was the most chaotic airport I have ever seen. There was no instruction and it took hours to queue to transit. I killed time playing with 3 African kids in long black robes. They don’t speak English, and I have no idea what language they speak, but somehow we managed to communicate. They laughed hysterically just by looking at my face. I was probably the first Vietnamese they had ever seen. I gave them candies. They ate and naturally threw the papers on the ground. I picked up and put in the trash bin. They didn’t get it at first, but after I had done that several times, they seemed to understand and stop littering.

I arrived at Alexandria airport at around 12am, more than 1 hour late. The airport was 70km away, so I planned to get out early and find somebody to share a cab back to the city. Somehow the immigration officer thought that my passport was fake! According to them, the embassy in Kathmandu gave me an “incomplete visa”, which could have been verified just by a phone call to the embassy, but they felt the need to detain me there, and only got back to me when everybody had already left. I was the last person at the airport, and even the money changer was closed. The taxi driver took the chance to demand 25 bloody dollars (the normal price is 10$).

I got to the city at around 1.30am and Manuel – my CouchSurfing host – collected me from Hilton Green Plaza. I tried to use Internet but it was impossible because of firewall. I gave up and turned in at 4am. It was around 8am in Nepal. I was tired like hell but my mind didn’t want to sleep. It’s Egypt. It’s Africa. It’s Midditernean. It’s Sahara. It’s pyramid. It wasn’t easy but I made it. I couldn’t wait for the morning to come to see what was awaiting me ahead.

Tags: Africa, Airport, Alexandria, Egypt, Travel and Write, Travel Diary, Visa

First of all, I have to say that I love my country a lot, and I’m proud to tell people that I’m Vietnamese. But sometimes, I feel bad just because I’m holding a Vietnamese passport. It happened again today at Chinese consulate in Kuching.

Visa application at Chinese consulate in Kuching only opens from 9am to 11.30am. On Monday, I called them in advance to ask for requirements for Vietnamese because I couldn’t find sufficient information anywhere on the Internet. I called the number they put on the website and the guy there told me to call to 2 other numbers. So I kept calling these 2 numbers for the whole morning. The first number, nobody picked up the phone. The second number was busy the whole time. After about 20 times, I called the number on the website again and talked to the guy. He told me that I needed to call these 2 numbers. I told him that but nobody picked up the phone. And he was annoyed at me, he said: “Then you have to keep calling until somebody picks up.”!!?

Pretty much pissed, I went directly to the consulate. There was a long queue of people applying for visa there. I queued and talked to the lady at the collection counter. She couldn’t speak English!!! An visa applicant there asked me in English where I was from and stuff, and everybody looked at me as an alien. It was about 11.20am, if I queued at another counter, by the time I reached the lady, the visa application would be closed already so I came home and came back again early this morning.

After filling the application form, I went to apply. As I’m a foreigner, I have to pay 4 times more than Malaysian. I don’t complain about that ‘cos it’s the rule at almost all embassies. But then they told me that I could only apply for visas to Hong Kong & Shenzhen. If I want to go to Macau, I have to come back to Vietnam to apply. Vietnam is one of 6 countries that need to apply for visa to Macau from home country.

No I can’t go back to Vietnam just for Macau visa thing. All my flights have been booked, if I go back to Vietnam, I will have to cancel a bunch of flights and book some more flights. It will cost me a fortune! I don’t believe that I can’t get my visa while I’m in Kuching. Here are some options I can think of:

1. Ask for a friend/travel agency to apply for my visa from Vietnam and mail it to me.

2. Apply for Macau visa through a travel agency in Macau.

3. Try to contact consul-general in Kuching to ask for help. Too bad I don’t know him.

4. I’m talking to some potential sponsors for my trip. I might come back to Vietnam to talk to them, so I might apply for Macau visa from there.

5. Don’t go to Macau anymore.

6. Just go there and try to get visa upon arrival.

Somebody help me please!!!

Tags: China, Chinese Consulate, Kuching, Macau, Vietnam, Vietnamese passport, Visa