I'm heading into the Egypt Chapter at the moment. In the six months I spent in Egypt, I lived on a dilapidated houseboat on the Nile for the first three months. One morning, I found a stinking and bloated dead body stuck under one of the pontoons on the porch.
I battled to learn Egyptian Arabic, had a romance with an Egyptian girl. After three months, I moved into an appartment with two American students just before the Iraq war started, which I use to reflect differing opinions of the war. At one point, I was caught up in an alleyway while vandalizing protesters were chased through by police. I try to portray the Arab world's anger at the invasion, which many felt was an unnecessary show of American might to further infuriate the fractitious Muslim world.
A recurring theme, which I might take out of the chapter, was the nightmarish hoop jumping I went through to get a new passport from the Canadian Embassy. While interesting to blog about, such travel troubles are hard to turn into enticing page-turning prose. As much as I want to expose the ridiculousness of the process, it may be hard to work in without sounding like a whiner, or worse, a bore.