Finding my feet (and shampoo)

Arrived at 2 AM this morning to Nehad's smiling but weary face and the extreme ghetto-ness of Borg al-Arab International. No, seriously, this is probably the smallest airport you'd ever see--especially for an international one. Nearly got screwed out of the porters carrying my bags--first opportunity to haggle has been entirely in Nehad's hands.

The area I live in is literally 100 yards away from the Corniche-- the large open harbor that supposedly the Lighthouse was located at the crest of. Pretty prime property, but unfortunately Alex looks something akin to a war zone from all the gradually decaying buildings and TONS of garbage everywhere.

Ran into a bunch of Britishers downstairs-- four girls who seem nice enough, if a little overly cautious. The flat actually exceeds my expectations, except for the mattress, which is probably the hardest thing my back has had contact with. And the exposed lightbulbs. Those are bright. But it's enormous and the landlady seems very nice and on the inside it's quite lux-- I have two balconies and an extremely large bathroom, though the linens everywhere leave much to be desired (Floral prints. Yuck.)

First goal has been accomplished-- to buy shampoo and soap, which I forgot, and presently I'm sitting in an Internet cafe sweating my pores out wondering where I can buy tea and towels. I'm sure it'll turn up somehow. No idea what I'm doing next. I'm still exhausted and severely jet-lagged; couldn't sleep until I unpacked.

And at four-thirty this morning, I woke up to the call to morning prayer from the mosque across the street. I guess I've arrived.