Walk Like an Egyptian (Part 1a)

We had the nice couple, that went to the Citadel with us, over for dinner. The ones whose son lives about two blocks away. And they've had us over to their home for a cookout.
As we waited at the airport in Cairo, for our luggage and our group to assemble, we chatted easily. Travel interests and family expanded our circle of common interests past the coincidence of geography. Sharing the threat of imminent death from the cab ride to and from the Citadel, that evening, bonded us as survivors.
The four of us are planning a trip to Machu Picchu in April of 2009.

The next day (12/8/07) started early. Really, really early. 2:30am wake-up call early. We needed to catch a flight to Luxor. Standing in the airport waiting room for our flight's departure, we struck up a conversation with a woman traveling with her daughter, a flight attendant. We learned that the security at the Cairo airport was lax. I did get through with an opened bottle of water, although at 3:30 in the morning Cairo time, security wasn't foremost on my mind. We boarded the plane and landed without incident in Luxor.

We checked in at our cruise ship for our trip up the Nile - SERIOUSLY! The boat was smallish, and there were close to a million of them! Our cabin was small, clean, and well maintained. Onto the tour bus! Then the day began in earnest! Our guide was a scholarly Egyptian women with a wealth of knowledge and experience. We began at the Valley of the Kings, and the Valley of the Queens. These are the excavated tombs of the Pharaohs and their wives. A couple of thousand years old, this was the burial custom when pyramids became passe. It seems that the ancient Egyptians spent their whole lives planning and preparing for their deaths. This preoccupation with the afterlife makes perfect sense in a society with a vital belief system. Imagine what "Christians" could accomplish if they really took their faith seriously.

Now, the obligatory stop at the local trade establishment to unload some of that desirable American currency! Today it was an alabaster "factory". We did buy an urn. The salesman was very persuasive, patting Tall One's "belly" and remarking, "We are the same!". I apparently have very beautiful eyes. So beautiful, in fact, that we were given the alabaster bowl we picked out for "free", and two "free" alabaster necklaces. No one was fooling anyone, but it was fun, and we do treasure our souvenirs.

On to the temple of Queen Hatshepsut at Deir-el-Bahri. This queen was actually Pharaoh for about 22 years. Her mortuary temple has been restored to a much larger degree than the other ruins we saw, something like 60% restored/30% original. A huge building with columns and statues, and the actual remains of a mighty cedar, one of a pair that Hatshepsut had brought from Lebanon and replanted.

We made a stop at the "Colossi of Memnon". Two gigantic seated figures of Pharaoh Amenhotep III, out in the middle of nowhere. Very cool, very huge, very old. After this, we crossed from the West bank of the Nile, in a very small boat, to the East bank. West relates to death, thus all the tombs and mortuaries. The East is life, so we were preparing to see some Temples. We saw our first camels! I really like camels!

That afternoon, we saw Karnak temple, and after dark went onto Luxor temple, which was amazing and beautiful all lit up, with sphinxes lining the broad avenue leading up to the entrance. Karnak is the most intact temple, with each element of design and construction represented. It is incomprehensible that the colors used in decorating these temples and tombs is still visible and vivid. Everywhere we drove, not just at the archaeological sites, there is evidence of excavation. Pieces of buildings and statues piled everywhere. We walked back to the boat. It's rather jarring to see such antiquity next to McDonald's.

The vendors are relentless. They deserve their own post. We ate our meals on the cruise boat. Lots and lots of vegetables, which is normally great with me, but everything was flavorless, nothing noteworthy except for the pita bread, which was excellent. Even in a Muslim country, we managed to procure a nightcap in the ship's lounge.

Walking Like an Egyptian (Part 1)

The reason I started this blog was to begin recording the memoirs of trips Tall One and I began taking in 2002. I was going to backtrack from our trip to Egypt last December (2007). I thought at the time I set up this blog, that I would be posting live from Cairo. (We did email some close friends and family members. Just to let them know we were alive. Some of them were worried.) Well, I got sidetracked, lost the blog, found the blog, revamped my initial vision, and here I am. But, I should tell you about our trip to Egypt. Just not all at once.

I'm a good flyer. I love airplanes. Aren't airplanes miraculous? I haven't lost the wonder of something that big and that heavy leaving the ground for extended periods of time and great distances and then coming back down on a specifically designated short stretch of concrete. Of course, I have a problem comprehending three point turns with a Chrysler. I have short legs, so any seat works. If we don't get a bulkhead or exit seat, we need the aisle seat (ie. Tall One). This is not a problem on flights with three seats, because we are always over the wing! No view anyway, and I only have to crawl over Tall One for the bathroom. I never watch a whole in-flight movie. I'm not sure why. Maybe the small screens? I can't hear well, my ears close immediately after take off and don't open again till the drums explode on landing. I really like to read. The food is always interesting, if inedible.

I love airports, too. I've never been in an airport that I didn't find completely enthralling. Delays, problems, bumped off flights - all provide the opportunity to bond with the duty-free shops. I like to buy "snacks". I try to find something that incorporates the grazing sensation with the most benefits for the least amount of calories. I have learned so much reading the nutrition information! I have only bought one book in an airport. I usually take along sure-fire, no-brainer, easy reading, but I made a mistake once and had to buy an emergency fix. Even so, I always take time to peruse the book racks. I don't do magazines, I save them for the John.

So Egypt was a long flight. I forget if it was direct, but I'd say so. I remember hanging at the airport in Cairo waiting for our luggage. We started talking with a couple, who, it turns out, has a son that lives about a block from us; they live a stones throw West of us. This was a trip of coincidences. They seemed very nice, interesting, so we asked if they'd like to share a taxi to the Citadel after we checked in at our hotel. Sure.

The taxi ride is half the fun. Tall One and I are fascinated with foreign traffic. And Cairo is foreign traffic, straight up, with a twist. The traffic lanes are well marked and the traffic signals work. Everyone just ignores them. There are four marked lanes heading in the direction we are traveling, however, there are six or seven actual lanes of traffic. They use driveways, sidewalks, berms, virtually any unoccupied space to more forward. And we're traveling at an obscene pace. Every single cab, car, truck, and motorcycle is damaged, dented and/or scratched. Tall One is giddy with fear, and I just feel like a dog with his head out the window, enjoying the sheer delight of being alive! This is what it's like to be in a video game, actually in, not a player. We're weaving, passing, stopping short, swerving, melding, and merging. I'm taking pictures out the window, and the driver, in addition to driving, is keeping up a running commentary in Egyptlish. We're passing "The City of the Dead". We express interest. The driver pulls to the side and stops. Did I mention the traffic? We are tourists! Ignoring the potential for personal harm, we get out and take more pictures! It is worth the risk. These are not blurred beyond recognition.

"The City of the Dead" is built on and among the tombs of the dear departed. Families live on top of the graves. The markers are intact. This is so far removed from suburbia. We arrive at the Citadel. It's a Citadel, with the Mohammad Ali mosque in the middle. No, not that Mohammad Ali. The Citadel is cool, and impressive, but what interests us is the reaction of the school girls we encounter. They seek out the contact. They practice their English with us. One ties my scarf over my head, in their fashion, as I enter the Mosque. They like American actors, Brad Pitt. The young boys want us to take their pictures. The older boys are probably mocking us in Arabic, aloof, cocky. We're there till after dark. The Citadel closes and we walk the neighborhood, taking pictures of chickens, cats, and women hanging wash out of their windows. We're chased out by an emaciated old man and a toothless old woman, waving their hands, "Go, go, Citadel is closed!" Our cab returns at the designated time and place, our relief is palpable (this is literary license, I've felt more threatened in center city Philadelphia), and with gratitude and good humor for our whole and safe return (I'm talking about the cab ride), we end our first night eating outside at the hotel restaurant.