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 This morning we woke up at 7:30 a.m. and rented some bicycles to go see some of the ancient Egyptian wonders situated across the river. We took our bikes and jumped on the ‘locals ferry’ which cost each of us 50 pts (US$.15) to cross the Nile. We started riding down the asphalt through the desert panting and sweating due to the heat of the day (already). I shall never forget riding past this local’s house where a donkey was sitting in the sun in the courtyard out front. The master, an Egyptian woman dressed head to foot in black with only her hands and eyes showing, was pulling on the donkey’s rope to try to get it to go sit in the shade. The woman had a friend with her, dressed exactly the same, who was also pulling away on this rope to get the donkey to move. It was getting oppressively hot and if the donkey had sat in the sun for a while it probably would have died from the heat, hence the reason the women were so determined to get the donkey in the shade – donkeys are expensive. The master then picked up her small switch and began whipping the donkey in an attempt to get the thing to stand up. She sat there and whipped the thing on the snout, and the donkey’s only response was to bray loudly in protest. She beat it some more but didn’t get anything more than some more brays out of the animal. She then left her assistant holding the donkey’s rope and walked around to the hind quarters of the animal. She bent down and physically lifted up the donkey’s butt trying to get it up. The donkey didn’t move, and he was so heavy than after holding it up for a few seconds the woman dropped the donkey to the ground again. It was so funny seeing these ‘eyes’ doing this feat dressed head to toe in black. We rode off leaving the woman to do her body squats with the donkey. She’ll have some awesome back muscles if she keeps it up!
We rode a good distance to the Valley of the Kings to have a look at some of the tombs Mr. Carver unearthed before finding Tutankham’s tomb. We went into three of them, each very, very deep in the earth. We had to climb down these totally narrow staircases (or sometimes chicken ladders) to get into the bellows of the tomb. Each was magnificently painted with the most brilliant murals on the walls. It’s hard to imagine the Egyptians were so advanced that they could come up with such great colors for their paints. Plus, they were so intricately painted – the detail incredible. The only thing about these tombs is that it was HOT. It was super hot outside – we all almost lost it during the ride up the hill into the valley, but these tombs were pushing that level of heat as well. We went through a few tombs, each with an Egyptian man outside to make sure we didn’t take any photos inside without giving him some baksheesh. Tutankham’s tomb was ‘Closed for Renovation’, but I hear it’s been like that for quite some time while the Egyptians try to figure out what to do with it.
Bicycled from the Valley and stopped at the first Coke vendor we could find. Actually he was an old man outside this tourist shop situated in the middle of nowhere – hot and desolate all around. This man had a portable cooler of cold cokes and because of his isolated location he could charge us whatever price he wanted. We each paid him the E£1.00 (US$.33) and pounded our Cokes. When we were done we returned the bottles to the man, and I guess he was having some sort of guilt trip about over charging us, for now the going rate on three Cokes was E£1.00. We each had another Coke then mounted our bikes for the next leg of our journey.
Rode over to the Deir el bahri (Hatshepsut to you and me) temple, which one usually sees on some of the ‘Visit Egypt’ travel posters. From a distance it looks really good, but when we got up close we noticed it was mostly restored and you couldn’t do anything but walk around in front of it, so we weren’t too stoked on it.
Back on the bikes to go to our next stop, the Ramesseum, a half standing Egyptian temple. It sits off the main road and, although it is technically a ruin a lot of it is still intact. You get a real feel for how large the thing really was. It was interesting walking through it and being able to appreciate the time and effort put into the carvings and paintings. They do that for ALL temples in this country, though. We rested in the shade of a large tree in the Ramesseum complex just enjoying being there. We were in the shadow of an Egyptian monument with desert all around us, and it was pleasant in the shade so we just sat and enjoyed it.
After our rest we rode back to the ferry port and caught the boat across (after the dude tried to overcharge us for the ride). Wandered back to the hotel to rest during the heat of the afternoon then got ready to go over to the nearby Karnak temple that evening to see the son et lumiere (supposedly the best one in Egypt). Got over to the temple but they wanted E£18.00 (the equivalent price as our hotel room) to get in so we walked back to the markets and had dinner. After dinner we wandered some more and Sarah got sucked into a silver shop and bought a couple of Bedouin silver bracelets for a really cheap price. There were these French people in there when we entered and they’d just negotiated the price so Sarah said she wanted the same price. Good job. I went and negotiated for a small cotton backpack to put in my pack – I think I finally ended up paying E£3.00 for the thing. Wandered a bit more then headed back to the hotel to crash out – we were moving again tomorrow.
 This morning we had breakfast, our last with that excellent fig jam Adel had brought along, then it was ashore to find some way to get to Idfu. We’re sitting in Adel’s village waiting for a friend of his to drive us to Idfu, then on to Luxor. If we wanted to sail to Luxor we’d have had to said the whole night through to get there on time. It was definitely a mission getting the Egyptian guy to give us a decent price to take us to Idfu. When told the price of the van Rob, the loud Aussie, screamed “I don’t want to buy the van, I only want to rent it!” We finally agreed on a price and climbed in for the ride to Idfu. At Idfu’s main taxi rank we haggled some more for the next cab to Luxor. Once in Luxor that afternoon we said good-bye to the dudes we’d been on the boat with and went our own way to find a place to stay. We ended up staying in the Golden Pension in the center of Luxor, only finding the place after the touts almost got in a brawl over who was going to lead us to a hotel.
We got cleaned up and met Adel that evening. He took us to this roof beer garden where we bought him a drink, then took him out to dinner. Talking with Adel was enlightening, for he was telling us about what he knew as an Egyptian; things we wouldn’t hear unless we took the time to get to know a local. We learned that a camel costs E£2,000, and that Egyptian men can’t get a passport until they’ve completed their two year mandatory military service. After our dinner we walked back to our hotel with Adel through the bazaar when there was a total blackout. It was a bit unnerving, but Sarah was armed with her torch which she handed to Adel to lead us along with. She then grabbed my arm so I’d know if someone was trying to kidnap her to sell her into the slave trade. We walked for ten minutes by flashlight when the lights regained power lighting the streets up just as we reached our hotel. We bid farewell to Adel and he wandered off into the dark, presumably to go find some people to sail back to Aswan with.
Sarah and I went wandering through the markets some more that evening, for it was such a nice night. We’re all getting better at bargaining – Rich says we’ve moved up to the intermediate level.
NOTES TO ADD
* Kid running up river with $ so the jayfay could visit. Would see same kid farther down the Nile after a few hours sail
* Getting Adel wasted, cutting in front of cruise ship and turning into the shore to avoid it. Towards shore but there was a cow up to its head in the water, cooling off. Adel didn’t see until late, so turned boat again, sending us into the tall leafy reeds on the bank. Good job Brad & Sarah – no more smoking for the captain
 Today we sailed all day, and Adel let me sit and steer the boat up the Nile for an hour or so. I sat on the mats watching the world pass as I zig zagged the felucca up the river with my foot on the rudder. We pulled up to shore in the late afternoon and Sarah, Rich and I went ashore with Adel. He led us to his village to show us where he lives. His village sits on an oasis on the Nile, and there’s huge green field leading up to the village – a strange thing to see amid all the desert wasteland just a few hundred yards inland from the river. The field is backed by tons of lush palm trees with the village on the hill above that. As Adel led us through the field to the village we passed the local women balancing those huge pots of water on their heads (as most locals do). Everyone was calling out to us, “Hello!” or “What is your name?” When we entered the village, people were coming out of their houses to see us, and the children would just follow us around watching us. One thing I noticed about the village is that someone must have come here with about 1,000 of those circular neon lights, because every house had one mounted and lit up over the door. We went to Adel’s home – he lives with his mother, grandmother, and six brothers and sisters. He showed us his room which was small with a beaten mud floor, brick walls covered in mud to make them smooth, and a ceiling made up of palm fronds stripped of their leaves and laid across the top of the room. Other larger fronds had been laid over the top of those to create more shade. He has a wooden bed, a wardrobe, and a small table with an electric fan. Above all the very first thing I noticed when we walked in was a green gecko sitting on the wall, eventually making its way up the wall and out over the top of the wall. We sat there and met his entire family while Adel bathed in the nearby courtyard. His sister had a large pitcher of water and at his command she would pour the water over his squatting body. Their compound consisted of a courtyard with attached rooms opening out onto it. In one section of the area there were dates drying in the sun, and in another there were large blocks of mud and a huge kiln to bake the mud into bricks.
Adel gave us some dates, and once he’d changed his clothes we walked across the village to meet his wife. She lives with her family on the other side of the village. Her room was much the same as Adel’s, only smaller, and instead of using her one electric socket for an electric fan she’d managed to get a ceiling fan mounted on a huge pole installed across the ceiling. Adel showed us some photos of his from previous boat trips and from his wedding before it was time for us to go. Being in the village (our first anywhere) was a really amazing experience; we got to actually see how these people were living, not just the tourist side of it.
The men and boys were all dressed in the traditional one-piece robe, but all the little girls had second, third and fourth hand Salvation Army dresses on. The worst clothing ever. When we were walking around the village I didn’t see inside many other houses, so to get a better idea of how others lived, because everything is walled in. Each family has their own walled compound, like a fort to live in and keep their animals.
After our walk through the village we went back to the boat to see the other guys and prepare dinner before it got too dark. Adel built a bonfire on the beach, then it was back to sleep under the stars again.
 Nile River, Egypt –
We got up, put our stuff together ands walked over to Adel’s boat at 8:00 a.m. Piled into the felucca, which looked like it had been in the family for a while. It fit seven people perfectly, had a removable plank floor for storage, then the entire thing was covered in a layer of foam padding wrapped in sheets, creating the perfect comfy bed to lie on . There was a frame above us covered in what looked to be like cotton couch material all sewn together and tied over the top to shade us from the burning Egyptian sun. Immediately upon our departure we rolled back the top so we could make an attempt to brown our white-pale English-looking skin.
We finally set sail down the Nile and embarked on the one thing I really wanted to do for my birthday that year. Paris the year before, sailing down the Nile for the next – what’ll I come up with next year? After stopping in one village ten minutes down the river to drop off Adel’s father, who we’d been giving a lift, and another stop to buy some more stuff, then we all began to relax. All I could manage to do was read a bit and smoke a few cigarettes; just sitting there and watching the scenery go by was entertaining enough. Children would come down to the shore and scream “Hello” at us and stand there watching us sail past. The kids all seemed to have donkeys, which are treated like their house pet. The young owners were quite agile mounting the donkeys, as they have no saddles, so they’d climb up using the animal’s hip joints as steps. Adel made us lunch which was pita bread, tuna, tomatoes, cucumbers and what tasted like cream cheese. Had lunch and tea then pulled back the tarp and had our afternoon naps – it was so relaxing.
We sailed for a few hours, then as the sun started to set Adel began preparing out dinner of potatoes with tomato sauce and macaroni. It got dark so we sailed to this island and dropped anchor for the night.
Now whenever anyone had to go to the bathroom we’d have to pull over to shore and Adel would carry the person over his shoulder from the boat to shore, as tourists aren’t supposed to get into the Nile because of the bilharzia disease which you get from the snails living in the shallow waters of the Nile. We’ve got some photos of Adel carrying people to shore.
We prepared for bed by laying out our bags on the foam covered deck and rolled back the tarp so we could lie and gaze at the stars before going to bed. We were laying on the deck of the boat when Sarah noticed that down the river a bit there were a group of locals singing this melodic yet a bit eerie mellow Egyptian song. The song came wafting down the river as though the men were really far away, but close enough for us to hear the words of the song. It was a group of men singing which sounded to (a sound I can relate it to) a group of monks singing at their monastery. The captain and cook of the next felucca (20m) away each had a set of drums which they were beating in rhythm to the singers across the river.
We laid there enchanted by the music when Sarah said that one of the things you couldn’t take home with you from your travels were sounds. And she was so right – I can try to describe these sounds and how pleasant it was to hear but you will never know until you go there yourself. The sound of the mosque in Cairo when Rich opened the French doors that morning, and this singing over the Nile; two things I will say (even thinking about this now in Oct 1993) never, ever forget.
The singing lulled us to sleep, but Adel and Sarah woke me up when he carried her across to shore for a loo break at 3:00 a.m. They came back and the three of us sat there and smoked cigarettes looking for shooting stars. Adel went and untied the boat so we would drift down river away from the stray dogs on shore who would come down to the Nile, take a drink, then go behind the closest bush and start yelping in a playful manner. It sounded like there were ten dogs paving a total party behind the bush. There were the dogs, then a short distance away the birds were fighting and squawking away, hence the reason for our drifting. Adel is a really agile sailor, for when we were getting ready to go to sleep Adel climbed the mast and tied the sail down. He climbed to the top of the mast as though it had stairs wrapping around it when in reality it was a pole with little circles of rope spaced evenly all the way to the top. We floated a while when one of the huge cruise ships that go up and down the Nile went by, which created a huge wake making the boat rock really hard.
The other guys in the boat woke up and were sort of startled that we’d been floating away from shore. Adel got up and started sailing again while we went back to sleep.
 Abu Simbel, Egypt –
We had to wake up at 3:45 this morning to make the 4:00 departure time down to the temple. We drove what seemed like forever through the desert, and I can honestly say there is absolutely nothing between Aswan and the temple. When you think of the remotest, most desolate wasteland, desert-type environment with nothing for miles around, that’s what this drive was like. Made it to Abu Simbel by 7:30 a.m. (to miss the oppressive heat of the day) and began our walk around the monument. This thing is massive, plus it was carved into the side of a mountain about 210 meters away from where it sits today. They built a dam and flooded the valley below the plateau we were standing on so they had to cut the thing out of the side of the cliff where it originally stood and move it to higher ground so it wouldn’t be damaged. The thing is the size of a small office building and was built in honor of Ramses II. There are four statues across the front of the temple, each representing one stage of Ramses’ life: the very young pharaoh on the left to the very old pharaoh on the right. Had a walk through the main monument and the smaller one dedicated to his wife then climbed back in the minivan for the return trip. The drive back was hell – Rich, Sarah and I got the shitty wooden plank seat that moved, and it took forever because I think the driver was low on petrol so he was driving 30 mph through the desert all the way home. It was getting hotter and hotter as we cruised through the desert, making the minivan that much more uncomfortable.
Once we’d returned to Aswan we all took naps and vegged out for a while. Later that evening I was walking down the hall of our hotel when I met this Egyptian man who asked me if my native language was English. He explained he was a teacher of English Literature and that he was in the process of trying to get a job in London. Someone had sent him copies of London’s Guardian newspaper with ads for teachers and he didn’t quite understand the layout of the ads, as who he should send his c.v. to. I looked over the paper with him explaining the ads and which address he should write to, a very easy task for me, but apparently very difficult for him. The man was really very thankful, then said he was a native of Aswan and asked if there was anything he could do for me. I told him we were interested in hiring a felucca to sail to the city of Idfu, two days’ journey up the Nile, and asked him where we could find a good captain (rather than having to deal with the sheister dudes out on the street). He said for us to go to the cafeteria at the Continental Hotel down on the waterfront – that’s where the good sailors hang out.
That evening after dinner Rich, Sarah, and I went over to this Continental Hotel, which turned out to be this really run-down locals place with minimal lighting and a few folk out front who looked like they were roughian sailors. We were a little bit unsure about going in, but we’d gotten our information from a pretty honest local. We went inside and made our way through the men huddled around their hookahs smoking their sheesha tobacco until this Egyptian who spoke quite good English came up to us. When we were in Cairo we’d heard about a man named Captain Mohammed who has a gold or silver tooth, so we asked the man that had approached us if he knew of Capt. M. The man led us into an adjoining room, away from the throngs of sheesha smoking sailors and sat us down at a table with him. We said we wanted a good captain to sail us up the river to Idfu, and his response was that Capt. Mohammed was gone but he knew of another good sailor. At that another, younger Egyptian, maybe 24 or 25, came and sat at our table as the man at the table told us this young guy was the captain of a different boat. We asked questions about the trip, price, food, sleeping conditions, if he’d ever sailed the Nile before, and finally asked to see the boat. The captain we’d been introduced to said he’d take us to go and inspect the boat. He was a young man, and quiet which was nice, for we’d heard horror stories about people hiring captains who absolutely would not be quiet for the two days’ trip up the river. He took us to his boat and told us he’d cook, buy the food and sail us to Idfu for two days and two nights. The other travellers we’d met in the train station earlier that day found us on the river quay and accompanied us to inspect the boat – we had invited them to go up the river with us, making it cheaper for everyone. Had a look at the boat then after chatting to Edward (British), Simon and (Aussies), the guys we’d be sailing with, we decided to leave early, the next morning.
Sarah and I talked to the captain some more and finally found out the guy’s name – Adel. We gave him half the money to go food shopping, then the whole lot of us went to the Nile police to register and tell them we were embarking on a trip and to register. That way if the boat sinks at least the Egyptians know who died. Once all this was done Rich took the other three guys back to the hotel while Sarah and I stayed behind with Adel. You see, he had mentioned earlier he might be able to organize some smoking materials for the journey, so he invited the two of us to tea to sort it out. He took us to a locals tea house where we had our over sweetened black tea and a few rounds of sheesha with him. Over tea Sarah and I talked to Adel and learned he was 25 years old and has an 18 year old wife in a village near Idfu (our final destination) and that he only sees her two days a week. We were both pretty surprised at that, but we knew that we were learning first hand about the local Egyptian culture. We gave him some money and he told us not to worry, so we left to go pack for our departure the next morning at 8:00 a.m.
Our train ride from Cairo to Aswan was a very interesting experience. We’d booked reserved seats, but when we boarded our carriage there was someone sitting in one of our seats. There was this Egyptian who asked the dude in our seat to move, and when he wouldn’t, all of a sudden, like ten different people were involved in this discussion – plus they were all standing up for us; the foreigners. After much Arabic yapping the seats finally got sorted out. Once we’d all sat down and were beginning to get comfortable Sarah turned to the window and said, “Don’t look now, but there’s a big cockroach that just crawled up the wall and under the window frame.” We asked her if it was necessary to share that information with us. [Hence the birth of the “Things you don’t want to Know” list]
The train pulled away and a few stops later heaps of people got on and started putting all their crap in the overhead bins in our carriage. Sarah’s pack was across the aisle up above and one Egyptian slid it farther down the rack to make room for his 15 boxes he was about to put up there. When he’d moved Sarah’s pack he accidentally squashed another local’s bag. I don’t know what was in the smashed bag, but Wow! All hell broke loose. The man whose bag got smashed stood up and started screaming at the top of his lungs at the first dude. Plus, with Egyptians being the busy bodies that they are, at least twenty people in the surrounding area stood up and began screaming at the two men in Arabic. Rather amusing to those of us who didn’t understand a word of the language – seeing these “eyes” dressed in black head to foot yapping away at the two Egyptians. It turns out the dude who did the bag smashing just came into our carriage to store his 15 huge boxes even though he was sitting elsewhere. The Egyptians were seriously getting majorly physical and it took a few locals to pry the original troublemakers apart.
We were on and overnight train and at all the major stops (more than 30 seconds) street peddlers would walk down the aisle selling their fruit, plastic combs, etc. Plus, if you got more than one salesman in the carriage at the same time it was utter chaos. Egyptian sellers believe that the volume level of their voices sells more goods. The louder the voice the more stuff he might sell. Wrong. More than one salesman in the carriage at once? They’d have a competition to see who could scream the loudest; each trying to outdo the other. This is all well and good when you’re awake, in fact it offers a twisted type of entertainment for those of us who weren’t used to Third World travel yet. The only problem is at three or four in the morning it’s less than amusing and one begins to wish horrible things, like an acute case of laryngitis, might attack someone nearby.
Our train to Aswan took 16 hours and for the last four hours or so the carriage was completely empty except for these two younger Egyptian guys. We were sitting there and these kids asked the tall Egyptian (for the fourth time) if he wanted to buy nuts and the dude pulled out a knife and said in Arabic something to the effect of “Get the hell out of here – I don’t want any nuts.” The kids hightailed it out of there, never to bother us again. We all had a good laugh after that. The two dudes were about our age, one really tall the other shorter, smartly dressed. They weren’t friends; they’d met on the train down. The smaller guy’s name was Tarek (who’d been sitting next to me for the duration of the ride). and the taller one’s name was something like Havall (we’ll call him Keshava for short). Tarek worked for a hotel and was in the water business while Keshava was a student at Cairo University. Neither spoke much English, so it took a lot of pantomime and patience to communicate. We sat with them for a while and by the time we got to Aswan they wanted to help us to make sure we’d get to our hotel. (This is where it gets weird.) Tarek was way mellow, but Keshava wanted to hang around us, etc., which made us put up our guard. We all got a cab into town and after looking at one hotel that was too expensive I went scouting around for a cheaper place with Tarek. I’d handed Rich my day pack when we’d gotten out of the cab so I could put my big pack on, but I forgot to get it back from him. I went off with Tarek and found a hotel while Rich and Sarah waited with Keshava a few blocks away. I went and got them and we all checked into this hotel in the center of the main market. When I returned to lead them to the hotel Keshava was no where to be found (not that I was really looking for him anyway). When we’d gotten all our stuff up into the room I realized that my day pack (containing my plane tickets, camera, and glasses) was missing. Rich said he hadn’t seen it since getting out of the cab. With the realization of having to get all this shit replaced Rich and I ran back through the market to the spot where we’d been dropped off, and we’d left in such a hurry that Rich hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt. The pack wasn’t where we’d been dropped off, so Rich and I tried to piece together what had happened when out of nowhere Keshava appeared telling us to go back to the hotel with him – he said he knew where the pack was. He also said to get back to the hotel because Rich was out in public without a shirt on – I guess that’s a no-no in Egypt.. Weird – he’d disappeared before, then when we’re out in the market looking for my pack he appears and says he knows where it is. We went back to the hotel and once we were in the lobby Keshava went running off into the market. He returned a minute later carrying my pack, which looked like it had been dragged through the scum of the market. My pack had been locked shut, so all the thief could manage to pull out of it was the strap to my camera, which was hanging out of the pack when I received it. Keshava handed me my pack and asked me to open it to make sure all my stuff was still in it. It was. I thanked Keshava (even though he may have been the one to steal the pack in the first place) and tried to give him E£10 (US$3.25) for returning my pack, but he wouldn’t have anything to do with that. We talked for a minute and as I was going into the hotel Keshava called me outside and said if I gave him the E£10 he’d show us around the bazaar in a few hours’ time. Since I’d tried to give him the money earlier I willingly handed him a tenner and told him we’d meet him later.
After talking with Rich and Sarah (immediately after the incident) we still don’t know if Keshava took the pack to try to get money out of us, or if he really did rescue my pack from some other thief. To say the least it made us all a little nervous going out with Keshava later, so we went to the bazaar early with some other people we’d met and left him to his own devices. Keshava was a nice dude, and I still can’t tell if he took the pack or not, but the fact that he refused the money I tried to give him immediately after the pack was returned sways my opinion towards the honesty side. We shall never know his true intentions, but I wish I could – maybe then I wouldn’t be so suspicious so much of the time while traveling. (Written at the end of the second week of travel. The view changed dramatically after India).
Immediately outside the entrance to our hotel was the outer fringe of the market, the street teeming with vegetable sales people, along with a few turkey salesmen down on the corner. Wandered around the bazaar which was jam packed with fruit and vegetable sellers, animals, and various other vendors. A short way down the road was the main bazaar where the fabric, spice, and curio salesmen did their business. We came across a tailor so I paid her E£10 to tailor me a pair of thin cotton pants which would leave me cool yet keep the never ending supplies of flies off my legs. The sun was beginning to go down so we headed down to the Nile and watched the sun set over the water – magnificent. Ate at one of the many floating restaurants on the water then headed back up to our hotel. Here are a few of the things you could order at Emy’s restaurant on the Nile: CAPATCHINO (Cappuccino) for E£1.00 or AXPRESSO (Espresso) for E£2.00. On the way home we stopped and booked ourselves onto a minivan, leaving the next morning for the world famous Abu Simbel temple, four hours south through the desert near the Sudanese border.
 Cairo, Egypt –
Today we bummed around Cairo and finally made it to the Egyptian Museum to see Tutankhamen’s treasures. Going to the Egyptian Museum certainly sounds like something innocuous, but there in Egypt it was still a mission of sorts. First of all it sits on the opposite side of Tahir Square, the largest traffic congested section in all of Cairo; ten lanes of traffic (with about two dividers) constantly whizzing past you at suicidal speeds. The traffic lights don’t help, because even if there’s a red light the Egyptians don’t bother to stop, let alone slow down. So, the only way to get across this mess is to pick the narrowest section where the traffic was slowing down a bit and go for it – rather a real life version of that old ‘Frogger’ video game. It took us a while to get used to it, but eventually we caught on. The Egyptians seem to walk out into the middle of the traffic, taking no notice of who’s coming or going. I watched a woman with a four foot long cabinet balanced on her head walk straight off the sidewalk and into the moving traffic, then waltz through the lead foots to the other side of the street unharmed. We, as tourists would start walking then run back to the curb if there was a car coming too close. Finally an Egyptian man came over and told us to just walk out into the street – the traffic would go around us. With that he stepped off into the traffic, but this time we followed him. Well, not really followed him, rather used him as a shield, keeping him on the side of the oncoming traffic. I figured if he got hit the car would be slowing down by the time it took me out. We made it! Every day since then while traveling in the Third World I’d always try to use human shields of locals against the traffic – just in case.
Made it to the Egyptian Museum, bought the ‘Foreigners’ tickets then paid an extortive amount for my ‘Camera Ticket’ so I’d be able to take photos. Rich and Sarah made it through the entrance with their day packs but the doorman grabbed me and told me to check it in with the coat room – no bags allowed. I’d seen Egyptians and other people already go through with their bags and there was a huge queue at the baggage check, so I tried a different door, but the doorman caught me again and told me to ditch my bag. At this point a huge French tour group arrived and I was surrounded by a sea of geriatrics, all wearing neon yellow Gilligan type sailors caps (so they’d be identifiable to their tour leader when lost – which was pretty much all the time). The doorman came away from the door and began speaking to the group in broken French. As I was immersed in this group I ducked and headed through the elderlies and through the door into the museum. Let the French people deal with the bag check, not me. The only item that really struck me was the huge gold mask that King Tut was found wearing when he was unearthed. The thing is large, and solid gold; more than I’ve ever seen in one place in my entire life – it was truly stunning.
We walked around Cairo a bit that day, then Sarah went to the room while Rich and I went out that evening to get some dinner. We headed to this shop that sells these small buns full of gyros meat, then covered with humus. Plus, they were so cheap we walked in there and, to the cashier’s amazement ordered twelve of them to satisfy our hunger. While we were walking through Cairo that evening I notices that the Egyptians would always look at our shoes. In Cairo there aren’t a lot of clothing boutiques, rather because the women have to cover most of their body from public view the only way for them to accessorize and express themselves is by their shoes. I have never seen as many shoe shops in a row in my entire life than there are in Egypt. The shoes are the way people make snap judgments of each other – the same way we might do it about someone’s car – so the bigger and shinier the shoes the more impressive. We were both wearing our clumpy hiking boots and they definitely caught the eyes of many a passer-by. Rich’s boots had all these shiny silver eyeholes which really caught the locals’ eyes. As we were waiting for our food this Egyptian man jokingly offered Rich two chickens and a camel for his shoes. Many people had asked if he was selling his shoes, but this last offer took the cake.
Cairo, Egypt –
We were all exhausted from going to bed at 4: 00 a.m. yesterday morning and from walking miles all over the Market that we crashed out at 9:00 p.m. last night to the incessant honking of the traffic on the street. Egyptian drivers love their horns, and I finally figured out that they use their horns instead of a turning signal. You see, if they’re going to change lanes they’ll just hold down the horn to inform the drivers in the lane to be merged into to tell them he’s on the way and if you don’t want a dent in your car you should make way. We had planned to wake up rather early this morning – big plans – so when 4:30 a.m. rolled around Rich got up and tried to wake Sarah and I up. His nudging didn’t get us out of bed, although both Sarah and I were awake, so he walked over to our balcony doors and fully opened them up to the world. I looked outside and could see the stars above, and the one thing that struck me was that we could now hear the mellow chanting/singing of the morning prayer. Both Sarah and I were awe struck, for we’d been unable to hear the prayer before the doors were opened, but once they were opened we could hear the singing. It was so moving and so peaceful. It was really pleasant to hear this man singing, for they usually give the mic to the one who’s usually tone deaf. Sarah and I listened to the prayer for five minutes or so, then we rousted ourselves out of the bed, for we had a date with a pyramid that morning.
Ever since I met Melinda, our Californian friend who has traveled the world over, I remember her telling me a story about her traveling with her family and actually getting the chance to climb the pyramids outside Cairo. I’d asked her to tell me the story a few times, so with that information files up in my brain, my group of three decided to go out there and see if we could climb the pyramids as well. Technically it’s forbidden to climb the pyramids, but if you pay the right guy you might get away with it – we were out to try our damnedest. Down to the street and got a cab out to Giza where the pyramids sit. As we approached the main gate these two young boys, about 10 and 12 years respectively, came out of an alley and flagged the taxi down and told us the pyramids were closed. Rich asked if they could guide us to the pyramids and the boys said it was possible. We got out and followed the boys down the alley into this courtyard where one of the boys ran to retrieve his father. The father appeared and explained to us that we had to rent his horses to ride over to the pyramids because they were too far to walk to on foot. He said he’d lead us there through the locals’ village – the back way – then he’d take care of the guards while we climbed to the top of Cheops, the largest pyramid of the three. We mounted his horses and started riding through the local village. The sun was just beginning to come up, so when we ascended this hill and started down the road behind the village I could see the Sphinx sitting mysteriously through the haze across the valley. We were almost to the base of the pyramid when Sarah’s horse lost its footing and fell down. I turned around to see Sarah picking herself up off the asphalt, rubbing her bum. She was a bit startled, and suffered a bruise on her thigh but lived through it. Luckily we were there, at the base of the largest pyramid, Cheops, so the rest of us dismounted and we haggled with the father regarding how much we’d pay him to bribe the guards. We agreed on E£50 (US$15), paid the dude then as we walked towards the pyramid’s base the father explained to us that we had to leave our small packs on a stone about a quarter of the way up. He said it was dangerous for us to climb up with our packs down because they might cause us to fall off when we were coming down. Good reason. Off we went, each climbing up the first base stone, each which was a little taller than my waist. Yes, we were really climbing one of the seven wonders of the ancient world.
 Cheops Pyramid (notice the small people at its base) 122K
We climbed up an eight of the way up and I could hear the guards screaming “Hello” “Hello”. I looked down and could see the guards running towards the corner of the pyramid where we’d started our climb. I watched the father figure we’d paid the money to run over to the guard and give him some cash then walk away. When the second guard started screaming I saw our man run over and slip him some cash to be quiet. Evidently it worked – they didn’t bother us again. Climbing to the top wasn’t particularly hard, just nerve racking because if you took one wrong step you were history. It was incredibly foggy that morning so I couldn’t see the ground after a point, but every once in a while the clouds would part and I could see the ground. having a mild fear of heights didn’t help, for once I could see how high up we really were I just made me more nervous. When we were a quarter of the way up we couldn’t see the ground. The sun was coming up as we were climbing to the top so I stopped and took photos of the sun while clinging to the side of the structure. Amazing experience – where I was, what I was doing, everything. Rich had climbed above and was soon out of sight. Sarah and I were climbing together and about three fourths of the way up we rested and as we were both a bit nervous about climbing we actually discussed whether or not we should climb the entire way to the top. We were nervous from the height and were beginning to wonder about our climb back down – more like whether or not we were going to make it at all. I assumes Rich was already at the top, the sun was coming up, it looked stunning, so Sarah and I persevered and climbed the last bit to the top. Plus if I didn’t go all the way I would never have heard the end of it from Rich – not for the rest of my life. (He did mention that later). Just as we arrived at the top the sun rose up above the cloud layer in the valley so all we could see was our pyramid, the sun & white clouds. It looked like Heaven itself. We sat at the top for a while, discussed whether we were going to die climbing back down, and took pictures with the other pyramid in the background. The clouds parted just enough so we could see the tip of the next pyramid over with a sea of clouds surrounding.
 Pyramid in the Clouds
After a cigarette and more photos we started our descent down. Our guide, who didn’t seem to have it in him to guide us up the pyramid, had explained to us in intricate detail how to climb down without killing ourselves. He said we had to sit down on each stone and slide off it to the next stone below. The reason we couldn’t take our packs was because on the way down the pack would have rubbed on the stone as we lowered ourselves and knocked us off balance and down to our deaths.
 Fear of Climbing Down
 The climb back down was actually almost easier than the climb up. We found out later that we’d climbed the equivalent of a 48 story building (450 feet high) – on the outside. It was an incredible experience; a photo of the “Climbing is forbidden” sign was of course mandatory.
We wandered around to the other pyramids and over to the Sphinx waiting for the morning haze to burn off so we could get some pictures of the monstrosity we’d just conquered. While waiting, and being the only tourists out there at 7:00 a.m., we had to beat off the camel jockeys with a stick. There was one jockey in particular who kept trying to convince us to go for a ride on “Daisy & Moses”, Mrs. camel and Mr. mule.
 Daisy & Moses
The haze finally lifted enough for us to take photos, then we walked to the main gates to get a cab back to Cairo. We’d been at the pyramids since 5:30 that morning and all had had enough of them for one day. The main gates were crawling with Western tourists, a majority who appeared to be Americans – each mounted atop one of those camels. The place was crawling with tourists and touts – utter chaos. it was a definite change from the serenity we’d experienced all morning when we had the pyramids all to ourselves.
We made it back to our hotel for a sleep then wandered around the city for a while, eventually making it to the top of Cairo tower for a birds eye view of the city. Boring. It was getting hot so we headed beck to the hotel to sit out of the heat of the day and that’s when we had our next adventure in Third World accommodation. Our hotel was on the fifth floor and we had to use this elevator that technically shouldn’t have been operational in the first place. Posted outside the elevator door is a big sign with a skull and crossbones painted on it stating “Danger. No more than 3 persons max”. O.K. so we were taking our lives in to our own hands every time we entered this elevator, but when your legs are aching from climbing a pyramid and it’s hotter than hell you aren’t going to concern yourself with a rickety elevator. There was already someone waiting for the elevator so Rich said he’d stay behind while Sarah, I and the German, who’d been waiting went up first. We climbed in and hit the ‘5’ button and the elevator creaked and groaned before beginning its descent. Due to the non-existent standards of Egyptian building safety codes the elevator had no internal door so as we were going up we’d look out this open space onto each floor. If I’d so chosen I could have touched each of the floors as they went past the open door. The only time there was any sort of safety feature to keep the passengers in the ascending box was right when we’d come upon each floor. There was a free standing door (not attached to anything mounted on the floor) that the elevator would line up with once one had reached their destination. I gathered the door was more for keeping people waiting on the floors out of the elevator shaft than keeping the passengers in the elevator. These doors on each floor were self locking and only unlocked when the elevator lined up perfectly so the passengers could exit. These elevator doors are only about 6 feet high, and above that there’s just open space where the elevator shaft is, leaving about 8 feet open space up to the ceiling. On our way up the elevator grunted once again then got stuck on the 4th floor just above one of those locked elevator doors. Wonderful. We pushed all the buttons on the panel (including the alarm button which didn’t work) trying to get the thing started again, but no dice. There were two switches on the panel, but we didn’t rush to try them – we’d talked about them earlier and came to a conclusion like if we switched that the cable in the ceiling holding the elevator up would disengage and we’d go plummeting down to our deaths. I suppose it was kind of ironic that now I needed to use the switch. Both switches didn’t work so now Sarah, the German and I stood there trying to figure out what to do. Of course the elevator had to stop behind one of the protective doors (locked because we were about three feet to high to engage the unlock mechanism) but not high enough to make it easy for us to climb out (easy being the operative word). Virtually anywhere else on the way up there would have been no problem getting out but now we were boxed in behind the bloody door.
We ended up climbing through the three foot space above the elevator door, touching things that haven’t been cleaned since the building was built – about the time the Koran was written. I boosted Sarah up, the German boosted me up, then he boosted his guitar up – more important than himself. The adept little kraut climbed over the top of the door just as Rich came running up the stairs to see what was taking so long. Rich had a good giggle when he figured out what we’d had to endure with this Egyptian elevator.
Cairo, Egypt –
Our first day in Cairo we headed over to the grand bazaar for the day, and the first thing that I noticed was that it exemplified everything I’d ever imagined about Egypt; the hustle and bustle, small back alleys full of spices and materials, the people selling their wares, and the tea boys making their way through the crowd delivering the merchant’s their afternoon tea. I’d heard about the main market from Melinda, and now that I was there I was seeing the images she’d described to me during the months previous. We wandered through the throngs of people – gawking at the women dressed in their robes (head to toe, showing only the eyes) while balancing a huge basket of vegetables or other items on their heads. We made our way into a small back alley which was solely full of spice sellers. The smell wafted down the narrow corridor and my nose couldn’t distinguish one smell out of the fifty or so that I was inhaling. The Egyptian sellers kept putting small amounts of the spices in our hands to smell.
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As Westerners here everyone knows we’re not locals (obviously, nor could we even pretend to pass for one) so they’d call out to us as we walked by their stalls. Buy this, try that – it was coming from every direction. I can’t say I was particularly disturbed by any of it, it was just so different from anything I’d ever experienced before. While we were walking around the city I noticed all the Egyptian men were staring at Sarah. Granted she’s a 6 foot tall, beautiful Western woman walking down the street, and she turned a lot of heads. She was rather content to know that Rich and I were usually on either side of her so no Egyptian men could alter their paths of walking and “accidentally” bump into her and rub her chest. We did meet other women who’d had that type of problem, but not Sarah – she was in good hands.
The Egyptians were all generally very friendly. When we were looking for a monument or a certain street there’s always be some man who’d come up to us and help us with the directions. The funny thing was that they’d always give us the directions, then, after they’d helped us, ask us to come visit their perfume shop “just down the street”. It was always the same. The children there all wanted to practice their English, so sometimes when we would be walking down the street the kids nearby would scream “Hello!” at the top of their lungs. We’d just appease them and call Hi back to them. I know now as I write this that I was a bit nervous being there and wasn’t going to be holding any conversations with anyone without a reason. As I traveled more and more and got used to being stared at I would talk to whoever was nearby; they would always be delighted to be able to practice their English.
Cairo, Egypt –
Finally! It’s begun! I flew into Cairo on October 12th and met Rich, who’s been traveling on the Continent for the last six weeks, at the Nile Hilton at midnight. Sat there and caught up with Rich until 3:45 A.M. when Sarah, our flatmate from New Zealand, arrived. I booked her her ticket, but didn’t get a chance to fully investigate her ticket as much as I should have. It turns out her flight left London and flew to Bucharest (Romania) then after a layover she boarded a second flight Bucharest to Cairo – Whoops! Sarah’s been a good sport about my mix up – we have been flatting in London together for the last year so we’ve grown close enough to overlook things like my not really knowing what I was talking about when I told her to pay for her Air Romania flight before I had my ticket.
Sarah had evidently had a few bottles of rum to drink with a couple of Australians during the two hour lay over in Romania and she was definitely showing the effects of a binge. She sat and chatted with us in the Hilton for a few minutes before excusing herself to go to the women’s loo to be sick. Once she was finished we got a cab outside, complete with a driver who didn’t speak much English and absolutely refused to take us to the hotel we’d requested. We ended up driving all over Cairo with our driver depositing us at various hotels that belonged to his brother or cousin or someone. They all wanted insane prices like US$30 per night, so we weren’t going to have anything to do with them whatsoever. He finally dropped us off at a hotel we’d requested only after all three of us were screaming as loudly as possible at our driver. (Welcome to the Third World.)
He dropped us off outside this backpacker’s place where we were met by yet another Egyptian dude. He led us into the elevator, sans door, and complete with skull and crossbones over the door stating that it would be detrimental to one’s health if more than three people got into the elevator at one time. I guess the Egyptian guy couldn’t decipher the 1 X 1 foot death symbol because he climbed into the elevator with us and tried to grope Sarah the entire ride up to the Fourth floor of the building. We got our room and laid down to sleep just as the first set of Islamic mosques was firing up their loud speakers to chant the day’s first prayer. Our room wasn’t bad – three beds, a fan and a balcony overlooking the street. Of course it was 5:00 o’clock in the morning so all I could spot was the rooster in the next building over. He looked as though he was ready to start a crowing.
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Cheops Pyramid (notice the small people at its base) 122K
Pyramid in the Clouds
Fear of Climbing Down
Daisy & Moses