Change a Tire, Get a Ride

Poor Natasha. She was a bit irked at the thought of walking over the 6th of October bridge last night. It's a strange bridge, really. It starts about 500m from the first branch of the Nile, goes through Zamalek (the island), and finally crosses the larger branch of the river. The walking is good for the last two parts, but not for the first bit...quite the opposite, in fact.

Only psychos aiming to tempt death and lost tourists end up walking on this first part. There is no sidewalk, save for about a foot of curb that extends from the railing. And the entire gamut of Cairo transportation whizzes by at breakneck speeds. It was 3AM, after all.

Just as we reached the beginning of Zamalek, we spotted a women and child on the sidewalk watching two men change the tire of a car. One of the men was trying to lift the car (the jack wasn't getting it done) while the other guy was trying to put the tire on.

Lifting a car is difficult on the best of days, and should be reserved for the world's strongest men. I wasn't about to leave the people hanging, so I offered to help lift the car. "Perhaps the strength of two would equal the strength of one world's strongest man..." After several attempts involving serious straining and what promised to be sore muscles the next day, "...perhaps not"

Then the guy brought out another jack. As the car levitated, it start rolling forward. Doing what I do best, I got into the driver seat and depressed the brake while the other two got the tire on. In short time, everything was done and I was back on the sidewalk.

In a sincere gesture of Egyptian hospitality, the family offered Natasha and I a ride home. We obliged (this after denying the services of a minibus driver trying to pull me into the vehicle while saying he was going to take me to Alexandria) and went on our way.