Smudger Snippets
Created | Updated Nov 12, 2003
I suppose it's because I have so much time on my hands these days, that all these memories come flooding back to me.
Egypt
I suppose, looking back on it now, I should have know better and stayed at home, but it was work and I needed the money. My last two ventures abroad were a complete disaster and I came home on both occasions really sick and suffering from loss of weight. The fact that I had already promised Di (my second wife) that I would never go abroad to work again was also sticking in my throat and, after all, it was that which caused my first marriage to fail after twenty three years.
So there I was on the plane heading for Heathrow before taking a flight out to Cairo and the doubts that I had earlier were now screaming at me, not to go. But it is too late as I'm already in the air.
Upon my arrival at Heathrow, I checked into the Hotel and booked my 05.30 hrs. alarm call for the morning flight. Even as I was dialing the number to speak to Di I knew that it was going to hurt both of us, yet I had promised to call. After I had replaced the phone I felt sick and empty, just what the hell was I doing to us? I never even bothered to go for a drink, as I knew within myself that it would only make me feel worse, so I just went to bed. Early next morning I boarded the flight to Cairo, where I was going to be met by a colleague of Dr H (to keep his name clear).
Upon arrival in Cairo, the first thing that hit me was the heat. That I could handle; it was all those taxi drivers and people all around me trying to sell me things, that I was having the problem with.
By now I was the only passenger left, as everyone else had been picked up, or got taxis into town. I had to hide behind a large pillar to escape the mob of traders and drivers. As I lit yet another cigarette my mind started racing as to what to do next if nobody turned up to meet me, and the memories of my last two trips abroad came flooding back to my mind. Just at that point a shabby looking man came up, pointed at a card he was carrying with my name on it and gestured that I was that person. He gave me a letter from Dr H and dropped me off outside a dirty-looking hotel, where I had been booked into earlier.
Once in the hotel room, I opened the letter from Dr H and read it through; it was all my instructions on which terminal to catch the flight out to a desert town of 'Abu-Deius' where I was to be met by yet another courier. The hotel room was crawling with insects and the toilet
or should I say, hole in the floor, had a tap that was constantly dripping. So I settled into a large chair, which was higher from the floor than the bed, and tried to get some sleep. It had been a long day and I had a feeling that tomorrow was going to be worse. It was starting out be exactly what I had been fearing all this time.
Next morning I was picked up at reception and whisked away to yet another airport, yet looking back on that drive I somehow got the impression that the driver was flying me there. He dropped me at what turned out to be the wrong gate, and took off so fast that I couldn't even see my feet in the dust. I then had to run with all my luggage about half a mile to reach the correct gate in fifteen minutes. I made it just in time but, looking at the condition of the plane, I really regretted trying so hard to get there. The flight out to the desert air strip was a long two hours in a dilapidated old twin engine plane with no fresh air inside the cabin, which I thought made it even worse for the goats and sheep that were roaming around the aisle. After we landed there was the usual scurry of people and pick-up trucks, shouting, and luggage being thrown about, then it all went quiet apart from the wind kicking up the sand, and once again I found myself alone - only this time not in a busy airport terminal, but in the desert with no-one around. It was about this time when I realised that I should have followed my first instinct about this job and stayed at home.
It must have been about an hour before the transport came to pick me up, during which time my mind had ran every possible scenario as to the eventual outcome. The driver was very sorry, yet every time he said it I just found it hard to believe him. We drove across the desert for about an hour before arriving at what I thought was an army barracks. It was surrounded with heavily-armed guards and, to my surprise, a UN camp around a mile away. Even more surprises were waiting for me when I walked into the office; the 'driver' - as I thought, due to his appearance - turned out to be a qualified engineer with letters after his name. I was then taken to my 'accomodation'. It was at this point I decided that enough was enough and demanded to see Dr H, but was told that I would have to wait until the next day which was when he was due. I had seen better kennels than what I was supposed to live in and, just to finish it off, I had to share this kennel with three local Arabs. It was indeed a long night for me and I was ever so glad to see the sun rise early next morning. I was then told that Dr H could not, infact, come out that day but was shown a fax he had sent telling me to fly offshore and carry out a check on some hydro-testing being done on one of the platforms.
Now having worked offshore in the North Sea, I thought this would be straight forward, Oh! How wrong can one be? The chopper had no doors, no seat belts and a pilot with a death wish as he attacked every rig on the way out to drop off other workers. My rig, of course, was the furthest out, and the one hour flight seemed to take a lifetime.
After landing the first thing that hit me was the smell and the condition of the equipment; it was as if safety was an optional extra! I did as much work as I could while the daylight allowed, in the hope of finishing early. Yet it was when I was shown my cabin that I just knew they had saved the worst to last. The first thing I saw was a large rat trying to scurry down a two inch drain hole in the 'shower' - but the drain pipe was four inches out above the floor? The rat was too big, but he soon found another exit point.
Thinking it could not get any worse I went for the evening meal. I was told that I was a guest of honour and had to sit at the skippers table. Having a good look round the food on the table I decided to have just the boiled rice. It arrived in a stainless steel bowl (which was indeed stained) and was turned over onto my plate. Just as I was about to start it moved and this cockroach - about two inches long - climbed out and ran down the table. It passed several amused diners before one of them splatted it out on the table. Suddenly my appetite had gone, and my desire to speak to Dr H increased. It took a lot of arguing with the skipper and the radio operator, but I eventually got to speak to Dr H on the ship-to-shore radio, the outcome of which was that I would be flown off on the first flight the next day.
I eventually met this Dr H and we had quite an interesting conversation as regards my working conditions and some other problems and the end result was that I left to carry on working at the so-called construction site some 14 klicks away from the main refinery. I drove there every day across the desert to the town of Abu-Deius right on the coast of the Red Sea. My truck was a mobile death trap and the fact that none of the locals used lights while driving at night and mine were so poor that no-one could see me, made driving back in the evenings very interesting as we swerved to avoid each other at the last gasp.
One one occasion I had to break hard to avoid a collision with a camel on the road, which I hardly saw due to the poor lights, and my foot - along with the break pedal - went straight through the floor. This was found to be amusing by the garage staff when I went to have them repaired; the actual repair was a patch of blockboard placed on the floor! My accommodation never really improved and the toilet conditions inside this so-called bungalow were bad enough, but the fact that the water supply constantly broke down made the smell even worse. In the end I used to give myself a good bath while at work in the Red Sea; this at least kept me clean.
The drive back to the site was broken every day by three road blocks (for security I was told) and, as time went by, most of the armed soldiers got used to me eventually. This was not so true in the beginning, however, as all I had to get me through was a scruffy piece of paper with a letter giving me permission to pass and, at first, this was often checked by an excited phone call while I was held at gunpoint standing in front of my pickup. My bag was constantly searched but all I had in it was what I called my survival kit; toilet roll, passport, bread rolls, bottle of water, soap, towel and toothbrush and any tea or coffee I could find. This was often found to be amusing by the soldiers and we built up a kind of friendship. I found that this was a lot safer than being stroppy with them and, besides, it put some zing into my daily routine.
Eventually I managed to arrange another meeting with Dr H and we had quite a colourful conversation about my conditions in general! In the end there came a point when I told him that I was going to leave as soon as my contracted time was reached so I was really surprised some days later, after he had returned to Cairo, to receive a fax telling me that I was to return to Cairo one week before my contract was up. I must admit to feeling relieved when I read it. I was even more surprised when, upon my arrival in Cairo some two months later, I found Dr H waiting to meet me himself. He told me that I would have to wait three days whilst my flight home was being arranged. He dropped me off at a hotel which was a lot cleaner than my first one, and told me that he would come to pick me up and take me out for dinner later. This new approach by Dr H had me suspicious to say the least, considering my treatment to date. He did, infact, spend the three days we had in Cairo taking me round all the sites and showing me all the places of interest. It was all an attempt to get me to stay and carry on working for him, which I politely refused. The hard thing about it all was that he had been so pleasant to me that I found it hard to show my anger at him. There was no point in my trying to tell him my reasons as he just simply did not understand.
So it was with joy in my heart that I boarded the BA flight to Heathrow, London. I even managed to phone home and tell Di that I was indeed on my way, as she had not heard from me in some weeks. The fact that I was stuck at Heathrow overnight, as I could not afford to pay for a hotel, seemed only a small set back considering my recent past events. It was a heart-wrenching moment for me when I arrived at Inverness airport the next day in a wintery blizzard, to see Di waiting there for me. I was home - and that was where I was going to stay.
