We're currently sitting in the coffeeshop in EgyptAir's Terminal 3. We're checked in for our 1.45pm flight to Sharm-el-Sheik, and it seems to be on time. We're heading to Sharm to meet my dad, who booked back in November to spend half-term with us in Dahab. We would have been in Dahab anyway, but he fancied the chance to get a break.
The airport is very quiet. The drive up was uneventful - where a few days ago there were tanks on the ring-road today there were street sweepers. The heavy military equipment at the gates to airport itself were replaced by a couple of Jeeps. Police and army were still out in number, but it's nowhere near the levels of 'security forces' we've seen over the past two weeks. Let's face it, we see more tanks going to the Grand Mall a minute away from our apartment than we did this morning on a 30 minute drive.
Life inside the airport is a surreal tension. The airport seems to be functioning normally, apart from the complete lack of customers. Waiting for our flight in the concourse coffeeshop with the few other people flying today, we're outnumbered 2-to-1 by barristas, cleaners, and duty free staff. The full number were evident when the TV presenter on screen above us read out a statement issued by the military. The TV has been blasting out the state TV channel's endless streams of propaganda since we arrived. Just now it's got exciting film-style music while selected photos of the protests go over the top. The majority of the photos are of government meetings and generic shots of the Egyptian flag. There's not even a hint of the scale of what has happened, and what is still happening.
However, during the reading of the statement everything stopped. Everyone gathered round in silence. Although it was in Arabic, the fact we couldnt' pick out any key words suggested to us it didn't really say anything. The faces of the staff confirmed it: a facial shrug-of-the-shoulders look, that everything they were hoping for was still just a hope. Soon after we reached out the laptop and got online - confirmation that the speech said very little that will ease the situation today.
It's strange being back here. 2 weeks ago we were in this same terminal, in this same coffee shop, waiting for our flight to Luxor for Alice's birthday. So much has changed since then, but so much is still ominously the same. It's frankly unbelievable that after everything the protesters have done the same government, the same President, are still in power. We're sitting in the same departure lounge, waiting for our flight, while the whole of Egypt is waiting for Mubarak's departure. There's a sad parallel there somewhere.
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