Journey to Rafah

In an effort to enter Gaza, I travelled to Rafah, hoping that I might be allowed to cross the border.

The journey was eventful, to say the least. I was collected at 5.15am and promptly fell asleep, stretched out on the back seat of the car. By 5.45, I was jolted awake, having been thrown to the floor of the car by impact, apparently with the separation barrier on the motorway. The car was literally bouncing along the motorway at high speed, but the driver managed to bring us to a stop. My guess is that the he fell asleep and drifted off course, resulting in the two left tyres of the car being blown out.

There was no point in panicking, so I just waited patiently in the backseat of the car, while the driver changed the two burst tyres and then continued on his way. The car was groaning as we drove off, so I decided the best thing to do was to go back to sleep and hope for the best.

I woke up two hours later in al-Ismailiya, where the driver had stopped off at a garage to have the car seen to. From what I could tell, the axle had been damaged in the accident. I sat on a chair next to the mechanic as he fixed the damage. and answered his questions about my experience of the war in November. As I waited, I saw this woman walk by, carrying a tray of fresh bread on her head.

The car fixed, we made our way to Rafah. As we drew closer, we found ourselves driving through howling wind, driving rain, and floodwater that reached halfway up the car-door, due to the severe storms that had hammered the area in the past few days. I was sure we would get stuck but, by some miracle, we made it to the border. I waited there for several hours in the cold and rain, only to be told that I would not be allowed to enter Gaza that day.

Instead, I was to stay at the house of the driver's family on the Egyptian side of Rafah. Quite an experience awaited me there . . .