I don’t know what it does, but I would love laser vision.

So the water is safe. But the chemicals give the water a taste that could politely be described as, umm, disgusting. So most Egyptians tend to drink bottled water. You can buy water practically everywhere – every street has at least one shop selling it. A 1.5-litre bottle tends to cost between LE 1.50 and LE 2 – or about 15 to 20 pence.

There is quite a range of brands, including offerings from the usual suspects: Coke has its Dasani brand (the one withdrawn from sale in the UK), Pepsi has AquaFina, and Nestle has PureLife. Local brands include Baraka, Siwa, and Aqua, of which Baraka is the best known – its quality is “controlled by Vittel” and it recently celebrated its 25th anniversary. All the water is, basically, exactly the same. Some are “sourced from a deep well”, some are treated tap water.

The thing that surprises me is that none of the companies sell a more expensive version of the same water. Coke should sell their Dasanti at 5 LE a bottle, say, to appeal to tourists, expats and the rich Egyptians who buy the most expensive product whenever they can. Sure, they wouldn’t sell as much, but at practically 100% profit, who cares?

I have quite a bit to write about here, most of which I have, in fact, written… but it’s all on my laptop, which I can’t connect to the internets. Typical – should have thought of that first, really. Anyhoo, I’ll do my best to get it all online soon.

Over the next week I have exams to prove that I’ve actually learnt something – but as they count for absolutely nothing at Durham, I’m not too worried. Thursday, I think, there’s a party at the centre – we’ve already had a few “unofficial” end-of-term parties elsewhere.

Then Saturday morning, bright and early, is the flight home. It looks like there’s a few of us from the course on the same flight, which should be good. Battling Heathrow will be fun…

Tomorrow, probably.

An Egyptian Tomorrow, that is.

Which means sometime before Christmas.

Insh’allah.

Sorry, did I say Christmas? I meant Easter.

Easter 2009.

bukra, f’il mishmish, as these Arab chappies say. Tomorrow, in the apricot season.

Anyone else a little concerned that nuclear reactors and a country that can’t even run a railway network isn’t necessarily a good combination?

Our bawaab (appartment chappy) is always trying to get us to listen to his newest tone. We try to ignore him.

But the fun thing is that a lot of people have decided that one of the default ringtones on their phone is pretty funky, and have started using that. They don’t realise (and why should they?) that it’s We Wish You A Merry Christmas. Much fun.

So… I headed off down south on Sunday evening, taking the overnight sleeper to Luxor, where I spent a few days admiring the stunning temples, tombs and monuments and trying to avoid the heat (very, very difficult). I have lots and lots of photos – but if you think of every picture of Ancient Egypt you might have seen (except the pyramids and camels), then you’ll get an idea of what you’ll find in Luxor. Indiana Jones, Tomb Raider, The Mummy… they don’t even come close!

Then on Wednesday evening I got the train back up to Cairo (not a sleeper this time, but a ridiculously comfortable night train), and met Yvonne in Cairo, where we spent a couple of days sightseeing: the Egyptian Museum – home to so many antiquities that even the curators aren’t sure quite what’s in there – and various other touristy bits around town, including, bizarrely, the Hard Rock Cafe (‘cos we were bored and hungry). Then yesterday afternoon, the train back up to Alex, ready for classes to start again on Monday.

As I say, I have many many photos – which I will upload as soon as I have a chance.

Also, MBC2, one of the TV channels that we can actually receive on our fairly rubbish set, seems to be spending Ramadan screening movies. And only movies.

Now, 80% of these movies are fairly rubbish, cheap, made-for-TV, run-of-the-mill American fayre. But every so often, a gem crops up. Or, on Tuesday, a whole day’s worth… something, followed by War Games (which really hasn’t aged well), followed by the truly fantastic IQ (which is, in my opinion, incredibly underrated). Then, to top it all off, the evening finished with the awesome A Few Good Men. Can’t beat it.

In one sense, I have no idea. I could be in nice, small, quiet Durham, enjoying the last few days before term starts, eating ham sandwiches and having a drink in the evenings in the Undie.

In the other sense – the one I actually meant – the course takes up four mornings a week. Yes, it really is a terribly heavy workload. Monday to Thursday, 9 o’clock to 1.30. The working day is divided into four sessions, each lasting an hour, with a half hour break at 11. In fact, most of the classes we have are doubles, so two hours, with a short break after an hour.

The focus of the course is, obviously, Arabic. That’s Modern Standard Arabic, sort of like Received Pronunciation, which is the base of the language spoken from Morocco to Iraq. We have seven hours a week of grammar and vocabulary (thrilling, I know), and three hours of translation between English and Arabic. Add to that two hours of Media (reading the newspaper) every Tuesday, and we have 12 hours a week of learning standard Arabic. Which is considerably more than I have ever spent dedicated to learning a single language.

The remaining four hours are Egyptian Colloquial Arabic – the Arabic actually spoken in Egypt. As Egypt is the centre of the Arab film and television industry, it’s fair to say that it is understood pretty much everywhere in the Middle East.

The course is incredibly good. So much better than Durham’s Arabic, but I’m not sure that’s saying much. We are in a dedicated building (the “TAFL Centre”), and our teachers are on the staff of the Faculty of Arts, teaching us as an extra, which makes them very good teachers. The materials we’re using have been written specially (not some crummy American textbook) and are very, very good. If Alexandria can get this right, why can’t Durham?

Anyway – there you go. A brief guide to my studies at the moment.

Anyhoo – here a few thoughts, in no particular order, that I’ve jotted elsewhere on the web.

Arabic keyboards are fantastic… good job I can touch type, and just change the language…

Klute equivalents in Alexandria are few and far between. The nearest we’ve found so far is called the Portugese Club and is filled – you guessed it – with Portugese expats. Alcohol, though, which makes a change from the most of the rest of Egypt…

Ramadan… no eating during the day. Shops don’t even open until 8 o’clock IN THE EVENING… yet we have to be at uni from 9am. Grrrr.

Enjoy France / Germany / wherever [this is from a discussion board with other Castle year abroaders] – and feel grateful that you’re not in a country where crossing the road is a full-size human game of Frogger. It’s worse when the taxi drivers haven’t had anything to eat all day…

Ooh, even better is the entire Egyptian civil service and various public employees. Unemployment is so high in Egypt that the government literally creates new jobs by inventing new procedures… getting a student residence permit here requires visiting (I think) 8 different civil servants in 3 buildings in 2 cities (not including the Post Office or the embassy in London). It’s ridiculous. Heaven forbid that you put anything they don’t understand on the form (“English? Do you mean American?”) or leave the “religion” space blank. Luckily, the centre here has a little chappy who, as far as I can tell, is employed only to deal with these forms (at least, that’s all he’s been doing for the last 3 weeks).

Speaking of pointless public servants, Egypt has a Tourism Police whose job, from what I can see, is to sit doing nothing at even the smallest “ancient antiquity” and expect money from tourists. You pay 10LE to get into the place, then spend another 20 or so trying to stop the police trying to show you “special government bazaar, tax free, sale today, owned by my cousin/uncle/brother/camel”.

The roads here… most seem to have three lanes of traffic in each direction, though they don’t necessarily all go the same way on the same side. Lights at night are optional, and seem to be used only as a replacement for the horn when it doesn’t work or you don’t get out of the way fast enough. Rather than slowing down when one sees a potential hazard in the road (accident, pedestrian, camel, central reservation), drivers speed up, working on the theory that the obstacle will get out of the way before they have to brake. In fact, the taxis I’ve been in only used the brake when they needed to stop at my destination. I have crossed the roads in Paris – and these are far, far worse. Trust me on this. I was thinking the other day that a fantastic new reality TV programme would involve getting drivers from various countries, stick them in cars in London, and see who’s the last to be arrested/die. I would watch!

Sorry this was such a rubbish post, but as soon as I get a chance to collect my thoughts and upload them properly, I will do. Promise. Ma salaama.