These flowers are all in the garden here!
And here is my buddy ...
And this fellow was on my doorstep. He is about five inches long.
Location:Vijana Rd,Arusha,Tanzania
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Coping Strategy
When things are not going well, smell the flowers and eat. The restaurant here is beyond fabulous. Incredibly wonderful smelling Indian food, lots. Of veggie dishes, Swahili dishes, and endless choices. I asked the lovely waitress to choose a Swahili dish for me. I want to try them all.
These flowers are all in the garden here!
And here is my buddy ...
And this fellow was on my doorstep. He is about five inches long.
These flowers are all in the garden here!
And here is my buddy ...
And this fellow was on my doorstep. He is about five inches long.
PS
FYI: Further to the post below, the whole visa and lost luggage and no money fiasco happened, you have to realize, after being up for 28 hours. I was up at six on Monday morning but my flight left at 7:30 and I s in transit all night. From Cairo, I flew to Khartoum, Sudan, then to Nairobi and finally to here. And although I resented yesterday, I could not sleep.
Location:Vijana Rd,Arusha,Tanzania
Tuesday - to Arusha
I am sitting in the garden bar of La Jacaranda hotel. There's a bunny eating grass just a meter away and a tortoise is grazing nearby. I am in the Garden of Eden. There is a jasmine like TREE beside my room, there are Jacarandas blooming in deep blue, there are "Christmas" trees blooming bright, blazing red with white centers, bougainvillea is everywhere, and there are p lana like I have never seen that are stunning. And mangos, bandannas, coffee, rice; the street markets are bursting wi stuff and I want to eat it all. BUT....
(Trust me, I will get a better photo of the Christmas tree another time. This was shot through the car window and does NOT do the tree justice!)
But my arrival in Tanzania has been an ordeal. First, because all my American cash was stolen and Kilimanjaro airport has no cash machine, I could not buy a visa, so I could not clear customs. Worse: MY LUGGAGE IS LOST. I have the clothes on my back, my pills (thank God), my camera and my iPad, my passport and inoculation record, my glasses and my toothbrush and that's it.
I saw this coming because the whole airport operation in Nairobi is a frightening joke. I barely made my connection in Nairobi to Arusha, so I knew my bag wouldn't make it. Also, my mosquito repellant was confiscated. On top of all this, the man who met me, Ciprian, did not strike me as very helpful (compared to the service of Emeco).
I would up having to borrow the 80,000 shillings from Ciprian to get m visa, and i filled out a missing luggage form (that took a half hour) and then headed into town. The airport if 50 kilometers from Arusha. The traffic sucks and it is stinking hot, but we stopped at a bank machine and I withdrew 400,000 shillings (about $250); it arrived in a mass of 10,000 shilling bills.
What a trial, my friends, what a start to this leg of my journey. The compensation is the unrelenting beauty of the landscape and the people here strike me as fabulous so far.
(Trust me, I will get a better photo of the Christmas tree another time. This was shot through the car window and does NOT do the tree justice!)
But my arrival in Tanzania has been an ordeal. First, because all my American cash was stolen and Kilimanjaro airport has no cash machine, I could not buy a visa, so I could not clear customs. Worse: MY LUGGAGE IS LOST. I have the clothes on my back, my pills (thank God), my camera and my iPad, my passport and inoculation record, my glasses and my toothbrush and that's it.
I saw this coming because the whole airport operation in Nairobi is a frightening joke. I barely made my connection in Nairobi to Arusha, so I knew my bag wouldn't make it. Also, my mosquito repellant was confiscated. On top of all this, the man who met me, Ciprian, did not strike me as very helpful (compared to the service of Emeco).
I would up having to borrow the 80,000 shillings from Ciprian to get m visa, and i filled out a missing luggage form (that took a half hour) and then headed into town. The airport if 50 kilometers from Arusha. The traffic sucks and it is stinking hot, but we stopped at a bank machine and I withdrew 400,000 shillings (about $250); it arrived in a mass of 10,000 shilling bills.
What a trial, my friends, what a start to this leg of my journey. The compensation is the unrelenting beauty of the landscape and the people here strike me as fabulous so far.
Monday, Cairo
Reading (God bless the New Yorker), sitting by the pool for a while, a nice slow lunch, a nap and some TV because Emeco picks me up at 7:30 tonight to, naturally, be the first one at the airport for my flight that doesn't leave until 11:30. That flight arrives in Nairobi at 7:00 am and an hour later, I fly to Kilimanjaro Airport, leaving at 8:00 and arriving at 10:00 am Tuesday. I'll have the rest of the day to recover and, perhaps, do some very local exploring on my own. Then, Wednesday, my animal adventures begin.
If you've known me a long time, you know that my upbringing was a disappointment to me. Even when it was relatively normal, there was no physical contact between me and my mother, and my father, a dear man, was only slightly more tactile—he would rub my back to soothe me while migraines ravaged me. And then all though my adolescence, the house was empty. All I ever touched, all I ever felt love for and those from whom I always felt unconditional love were our animals. And from Jenny, Aleck, Sam Kitty, Spike, Bela and Leon, I learned to love all animals, to see the soul in all of them.
Not that long ago, I saw a film about a monastery in Tibet in which a cadre of passionate footballers (or cricketers, I can't remember) built a field in which to play, and I will never forget that movie because while building the playing field, the filmmaker shows a scene wherein a monk carefully protects a worm from being hurt in the process of construction, gently moving it to safe territory. The scene resonated with me because I always do that—I rescue worms from trips across pavement deserts.
So like a Hindu, animals are my Gods and on Wednesday, I will start seeing the animals of children's stories and zoos, but in their homes. I am excited about what I think the next few weeks will be. Goodbye Egypt.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Sunday, Cairo; My Birthday
Yesterday, I got into bed at 4:30 and slept until 8:30. I got up, got dressed quickly, and went downstairs to have the same meal again. Then right back up to bed. Sleep, I believe, is the best medicine.
I got up and went for a tiny breakfast so that another fainty-feeling doesn't come over me, but the huge smorgasbord of things all turn me off. Just do not care for food in the morning. So it was lots of Tang (yucky) and off to the roof for a gander at the pyramids, but it is too polluted to see them this morning. And then I realized, today is my birthday. And the tears flowed because I feel so alone—not on the trip, but in life. Weird and distant as he was, I still miss my Dad often and intensely and I wish I had a real brother or a sister. Geez, isn't this supposed to be a happy day? It will change shortly when Dahlia gets here.
Off we go, driver, Dahlia and I, through the morning traffic. It is Sunday, the first day f the week. We go to Memphis (photos below) first, and the Mit Rahina Museum, passing carts with cabbages and cauliflowers. Honestly, some cauliflowers are almost a meter tall. They are the biggest green vegetables I have ever seen. And the cauliflowers. OH MY GOD!! The cauliflowers here would not fit in any fridge I know of. I mean they are like pumpkin size. It would take a single person a week to eat it.
So, here I am writing about vegetables on a day when I have seen the Giza pyramids, Memphis and Saqqara's Imhotep Museum. I have seen way, way too much in far to short a time. As I wrote at the beginning of this blog, this is not at all the way I usually travel. I am used to a far, far slower pace. This pace creates an knot of information in my head; an undigestible huge mouthful of fabulously interesting stuff. I imagine, or hope, that Kenya/Tanzania is different. I think looking at animals will be different than looking at these monumental human achievements.
This huge statue of Ramses landed face down when it fell, whenever that was, and so o ver time, the exposed side was eroded but the face side was protected by the sand and it is beautiful.
But what a birthday! After Memphis was Saqqara to see the step pyramid. I cannot listen to the guide, take notes and look at things, so I urge you to use Wikipedia to get an idea about what I am seeing if it interests you. I am using a downloaded off-line version of Wiki to remember what I have been told.
I touch Ramses!
After Saqqara, Dahlia asked me if I wanted a hot drink. She had been making lots of offers, she is a lovely woman and I was thrilled o have her as my guide. So we stopped, and I was trapped. I instantly was in a bad mood and I was as close to rude as Chris can get to the host of the place. I wouldn't look at him. We had stopped in a tourist trap—you know, a tourist shop disguised as a school of historical crafts. We were in an Indian carpet school. Damn! So I resolved to get it over with as quickly as possible by saying nothing, refusing all drink offers and by keeping walking. I used envy thing at my disposal to give off body language of disgust, and I was thinking about what I would say to Dahlia.
Surprise... I bought a $1000 silk carpet and it ain't big. I do not like spending money; I don't know why, but I have always been this way. Once, when I was maybe ten years old, I lost $10 that dad had given me. I think it may have been spending money for me, not to do errands, and it just disappeared. To this day, remember that it was a sunny day and that I had left my bicycle leaning against the Robinson's hedge across the street, and I sat in our dining room and thought about how hard Dad worked to earn that money to give me. I felt sick about what I had done. And I knew he would punish me, but I felt like telling him that no matte what he did, it wouldn't make me feel worse than I already did. He punished me anyway, but my point is that my emotional relationship with money goes back a long time.
But I bought the carpet because: the museum gift shop had nothing to offer; while in Morocco I got a large and unexpected book order; I wanted a qualitative, morally acceptable Egyptian souvenir; the vendor and my carpet are government sanctioned, made by hand, pure silk, historically accurate sign and colour; I have always wanted a classic and classy silk carpet; is great colour for my apartment; it is my birthday.
The pyramids and the sphinx are amazing, but no tears. They are more majestic than beautiful to me. They are more a product of labour than artistry to see today. It is the simple hieroglyphics and the simple statues that will stay with me. Although the jewelry is absolutely breathtaking, it is the stuff of the rich and powerful whereas the hieroglyphics, done with such perfect simplicity that impresses me. But then I am a writer and lover of words.
I was back at the hotel by about 1:30 and I like having the afternoon to relax and recharge, for tomorrow night is an overnight flight which could mean a set back in my recovery.
I got up and went for a tiny breakfast so that another fainty-feeling doesn't come over me, but the huge smorgasbord of things all turn me off. Just do not care for food in the morning. So it was lots of Tang (yucky) and off to the roof for a gander at the pyramids, but it is too polluted to see them this morning. And then I realized, today is my birthday. And the tears flowed because I feel so alone—not on the trip, but in life. Weird and distant as he was, I still miss my Dad often and intensely and I wish I had a real brother or a sister. Geez, isn't this supposed to be a happy day? It will change shortly when Dahlia gets here.
Off we go, driver, Dahlia and I, through the morning traffic. It is Sunday, the first day f the week. We go to Memphis (photos below) first, and the Mit Rahina Museum, passing carts with cabbages and cauliflowers. Honestly, some cauliflowers are almost a meter tall. They are the biggest green vegetables I have ever seen. And the cauliflowers. OH MY GOD!! The cauliflowers here would not fit in any fridge I know of. I mean they are like pumpkin size. It would take a single person a week to eat it.
So, here I am writing about vegetables on a day when I have seen the Giza pyramids, Memphis and Saqqara's Imhotep Museum. I have seen way, way too much in far to short a time. As I wrote at the beginning of this blog, this is not at all the way I usually travel. I am used to a far, far slower pace. This pace creates an knot of information in my head; an undigestible huge mouthful of fabulously interesting stuff. I imagine, or hope, that Kenya/Tanzania is different. I think looking at animals will be different than looking at these monumental human achievements.
This huge statue of Ramses landed face down when it fell, whenever that was, and so o ver time, the exposed side was eroded but the face side was protected by the sand and it is beautiful.
But what a birthday! After Memphis was Saqqara to see the step pyramid. I cannot listen to the guide, take notes and look at things, so I urge you to use Wikipedia to get an idea about what I am seeing if it interests you. I am using a downloaded off-line version of Wiki to remember what I have been told.
I touch Ramses!
After Saqqara, Dahlia asked me if I wanted a hot drink. She had been making lots of offers, she is a lovely woman and I was thrilled o have her as my guide. So we stopped, and I was trapped. I instantly was in a bad mood and I was as close to rude as Chris can get to the host of the place. I wouldn't look at him. We had stopped in a tourist trap—you know, a tourist shop disguised as a school of historical crafts. We were in an Indian carpet school. Damn! So I resolved to get it over with as quickly as possible by saying nothing, refusing all drink offers and by keeping walking. I used envy thing at my disposal to give off body language of disgust, and I was thinking about what I would say to Dahlia.
Surprise... I bought a $1000 silk carpet and it ain't big. I do not like spending money; I don't know why, but I have always been this way. Once, when I was maybe ten years old, I lost $10 that dad had given me. I think it may have been spending money for me, not to do errands, and it just disappeared. To this day, remember that it was a sunny day and that I had left my bicycle leaning against the Robinson's hedge across the street, and I sat in our dining room and thought about how hard Dad worked to earn that money to give me. I felt sick about what I had done. And I knew he would punish me, but I felt like telling him that no matte what he did, it wouldn't make me feel worse than I already did. He punished me anyway, but my point is that my emotional relationship with money goes back a long time.
But I bought the carpet because: the museum gift shop had nothing to offer; while in Morocco I got a large and unexpected book order; I wanted a qualitative, morally acceptable Egyptian souvenir; the vendor and my carpet are government sanctioned, made by hand, pure silk, historically accurate sign and colour; I have always wanted a classic and classy silk carpet; is great colour for my apartment; it is my birthday.
The pyramids and the sphinx are amazing, but no tears. They are more majestic than beautiful to me. They are more a product of labour than artistry to see today. It is the simple hieroglyphics and the simple statues that will stay with me. Although the jewelry is absolutely breathtaking, it is the stuff of the rich and powerful whereas the hieroglyphics, done with such perfect simplicity that impresses me. But then I am a writer and lover of words.
I was back at the hotel by about 1:30 and I like having the afternoon to relax and recharge, for tomorrow night is an overnight flight which could mean a set back in my recovery.
Thursday - Saturday
Dear Readers,
After saying so much for the past few days, today there is little to report. It was largely a day for coughing and blowing my nose, but Osama and I went to the old Aswan Dam (ho hum) and then the new High Dam (ho hum), the Unfinished Obelisk and then we took a boat to the relocated Philae Temple.
I came back to the altar for lunch and cancelled the trip I bought to sail on a Felucca. There was no wind, it is stinking hot and I'd be trapped on a about with Osama and the boat operator.... Not my cup of tea.
The delight of the day has been Serge and Frédérique. They are friends who have know each other twenty years. Serge is, perhaps in his fifties, and a chef; Frédérique is an artist! We met yesterday and ate together last night, but this afternoon, while Serge rested, Frédérique and I had a very nice talk. I wish we had met sooner. He is sweet, French, quite open and it is a delight to have someone to talk with. He bout my coke last night, and when he and Serge left to do something tonight, he was sure to say that we would eat together tonight.
It was nice to relax here where the touts cannot get me, in comfort and with a bath after a day of rest sometimes in the sun, sometimes in the shade. It is very hot here. I depart at 6:30 tomorrow morning for the airport to go to Abu Simble. This piece is in the heart of Egyptians. Wiki it! Then a stay in a hotel here in Aswan, and then on Saturday, another early departure, this time to return to Cairo. I pushed myself to ask for my flight to be changed to earlier in the day so that I can go to the Egyptian Museum. I told Emco, my host agency here, regardless of what is going on in Tahrir Square this time, if the Museum is open, I am going in.
Then Sunday, my birthday—the pyramids at Giza, the Sphinx, Memphis and the Complex of Sakkara. How's that for a way to celebrate being 64! Then Chapter Two of my epic vacation comes to a close as Monday, I head for East Africa, landing in Nairobi.
Later, Thursday...
Gobsmacked! Serge rested, Frédérique and their guide, Denise, dined together and it was lovely. Denise is sick with a bad cold like me, too. in fact, I notice a lot of people coughing and wheezing around me. After dinner, Serge went to their room an d i decided to join Frédérique on the top deck while he has a cigarette. We talk for a bit, sometimes in English because I think he likes to practice and he does very well, and then out of nowhere, he gives be a BEAUTIFUL scarf and an Egyptian amulet to wear.
He wants to give me strength, he said. He has seen my timidity. And he said the nicest things to me and coming from a stranger who wants nothing from me, it was, like so many things on this trip, overwhelming. But this time I was being overwhelmed by a living person. Frédérique is turning 40 on Dec. 6; I turn 64 on Dec. 5. We both work in the visual arts, so our connection was wonderful.
Friday...
This morning I had to meet my ride at 6:30. As I waited, down came Frédérique to wait with me and to say goodbye. When I got in the cab, I was heart broken to leave them—particularly Frédérick. Back to being on my own. So off I go to Abu Simble.
Well that is weird. Up at 6:00 to be at the airport in time to go to Abu Simble. The flight is half an hour; we are very close to Syria and in what was once Nubia. When we land, your guide finds you and steers you to the correct bus. As I have said, this is industrial tourism. The bus ride is 15 minutes. When we arrive, we hurry to the monument because the mob that comes from Aswan by bus must leave by 9:00 and. That means my group of 12 English people plus moi will have the tomb to ourselves.
I am first off the bus and first into the tomb. In fact, for 5 minutes, I am totally alone inside. The group resembles in the shade of a tree to listen to more explanation about the site and it's history. Then we have a little more free time before it is back to the airport for the flight back to Aswan. It is stinking hot; the sun practically burns your skin. In summer here, the temperatures stay in the fifties!!
Click on the photos to enlarge them.
We are a fairly large plane and we are full. Everyone has gone to all this expense and devoted so much time to see Abu Simble, but in fact, one has very little lime actually there. Now, Iam back on the pane in Abu Simble heading back to Aswan (and the rumored, nice hotel, the Basma).
Note:
1. Have I mentioned that the famous scarab is actually a dung beetle?
2. I am pining for Frédérique's scintillating company.
3. My cold is awful.
4. There are flies everywhere!
OK, the Basma Hotel. It is like a resort. I have two balconies: one is HUGE with two deck chairs and the other is small. The cross ventilation with two walls of sliding glass doors is spectacular. There is a pool (that I won't use), and restaurants and bars and stores and the most beautiful and refreshing terrace bar where I ordered two cokes. I should be sleeping, but I can't resist this bar for lentil soup and a garden salad and some chilling.
Yesterday, feeling crappy and headachy, I decided to take some aspirin, and without thinking, on the boat, I turned on the tap and took my pills with a glass of tap water. At dinner, I told Serge, Frédérique and Denise, and they all panicked—Denise especially. She went to her room and returned with some medications and she told me to take one right then, so I did. I don't even know what it was, but so far, so good. I have a lovely bath tub and nice beds; a nap is in order after lunch.
There were so others here in the restaurant when I arrived, but they have all gone and I am alone with five waiters.even with the worst cold I have had in a long, long time, this is an exceptional experience. And although this is like no travel experience that I have ever had before (travel agent, drivers picking me up at the airport, someone calling me sir all the time, guides, TIPPING, the whole package), this is a fabulous way to go if you can swallow the bill. And feeling so weak, this is perfect.
I feel a little like a rock star—flying to a site like Abu Simbel and back yesterday morning, and then the luxury hotel in the afternoon. And now, this morning, another flight, this time to Cairo. And the day after tomorrow, I fly to Nairobi. Tomorrow, one thing I will do on my birthday, is start with the Malarone (the anti-Malaria drug).
In southern Egypt, fully half the population is engaged in tourism. With some 10-15% of usual crowds, most have been displaced. My sense is that the older generation of tourism officials are taking all the business, leaving the young to cope. Virtually everyone who deals with me is a middle-aged man. I feel for the many, many people down the food chain of tourism here who are doing completely without. And it is all because of the protests in Tahrir Square and the media overkill.
So imagine the conflict: the protests are bringing a form of democracy to the people, but they are also bankrupting many people. That makes for a complex relationship with the protest. Tourism is the second industry here. I didn't ask what the first one was: sand? Probably agriculture. BUT, to be clear, everyone I speak with is super happy that Mubarak is out. What's ahead, though, remains unclear. There is abundant optimism here and a new found popular strength.
Notes:
1. Cauliflowers here are the size of pumpkins.
2. From the air you can see the longest, straitest, flattest roads imaginable.this is a bleak landscape like no other I have seen.
3. Only since the construction of the Aswan dam have hippos and crocodiles been absent from the lower Nile.
4. I am writing this in a lobby restaurant. I am alone. There are roughly eight staff coming and going, in and out, but I ordered 10 minutes ago and still no food. I am feeling faint and actually have been fearing for consciousness I am so hungry. Te restaurant was not open when I left early, and I did not know we were going to the museum, and driving here took an hour with traffic. I am seriously faint with hunger. It is 3:00 pm. So I flagged one of the staff a few minutes ago, and still no simple sandwich. And this is one of those "sophisticated" establishments.
Saturday...
Emeco, my host agency, consistently has me at the airport before anyone else. S I do a lot of sitting around reading the New Yorker or a book on my iPad. But mostly, I watch the other people and the staff and how people interact.
The fight was uneventful and Ahkmed was there to meet me at Cairo airport. He is a charming man; I really feel comfortable with him. Having guides when alone is an interesting experience. It is a professional relationship, but it is bed on my pleasure. Still, we have to get to know each other. Most, I don't want to know, but Ahkmed would be a pleasant visit any time.
So there's the nameless driver (Ahkmed told me his name, but I have forgotten; he speaks not a word of English), Ahmed and me in the back of the car for eleven. Then we pick up Dahlia—all coordination by cell phones—so there are three staff and a bus serving a single client. I am used to it now, but at first it was jarring. I am in for the same, only different in Kenya/Tanzania.
Morocco? Was I in Morocco? It feels like a vague memory already. It is the past; Egypt is my present. And tomorrow a birthday to remember and then Egypt, too, becomes part of the past.
So as I was saying, the four of us and the van for eleven kept rolling and then we dropped off Ahkmed. Denise and I continued on to the Egyptian Museum. Well, let me revert to point form:
1. The building is chock a block with stuff in crates. Some crates are wrapped in plastic, some are exhibits and others re unopened. There is room after room and it is chaos. They are building a new museum near the pyramids, but it is unknown when it will open because of the revolution.
2. There are enormous display cases FULL of unbelievable objects—hundreds of them—unlabeled.
3. The jewelry alone is worth a museum.
4. The painted sarcophagi, huge and towering over you, can launch a person width imagination into a lifetime of dreaming.
5. The museum shop was looted during the revolution. I am broken hearted about that because what I see everywhere is crap.
6. It's more mall than museum, really. People take calls and they sit around. Guides are all talking.
7. I see what the guide drives me to, and we kind of go at her pace.
Gold, shmold. Cases of lapis win! And to the Egyptians, silver was the most revered precious metal.
The last room we went to was all Ahkenaten. More than any other Egyptian, Ahkenaten was my man. The statuary of his reign is different from all the others. You know work of his reign even without scholarship. It is unique, for me, gorgeous. And whereas I have seen a piece or two in touring exhibitions in America, I have never been in a roomful of works from his dynasty.
I suspect the absence of much documentation, or sophisticated presentation like audio guides or whatever, enables the guides to earn their living. I expected to tour around at my own pace, but in fact, a guide is a good idea.
It is the densest museum experience imaginable.
NO PHOTOS ARE ALLOWED
The food has arrived. It is now 3:20. I inhaled the food but I feel like I can stand up and go to bed to rest before a heavy day tomorrow. There is a lot on the agenda plus Dalia says she can take me to a pace that might have things I like and that are not made in China. And I want to have a nice birthday dinner in the evening if I feel up to it.
I found out today (Saturday) that Monday I am free all day because my flight to Nairobi doesn't leave until some ungodly hour late at night. I guess I am on an overnight flight which does not make me very happy given my current state of health, so right after finishing eating, I was in bed for a 4.5 hour nap.
After saying so much for the past few days, today there is little to report. It was largely a day for coughing and blowing my nose, but Osama and I went to the old Aswan Dam (ho hum) and then the new High Dam (ho hum), the Unfinished Obelisk and then we took a boat to the relocated Philae Temple.
I came back to the altar for lunch and cancelled the trip I bought to sail on a Felucca. There was no wind, it is stinking hot and I'd be trapped on a about with Osama and the boat operator.... Not my cup of tea.
The delight of the day has been Serge and Frédérique. They are friends who have know each other twenty years. Serge is, perhaps in his fifties, and a chef; Frédérique is an artist! We met yesterday and ate together last night, but this afternoon, while Serge rested, Frédérique and I had a very nice talk. I wish we had met sooner. He is sweet, French, quite open and it is a delight to have someone to talk with. He bout my coke last night, and when he and Serge left to do something tonight, he was sure to say that we would eat together tonight.
It was nice to relax here where the touts cannot get me, in comfort and with a bath after a day of rest sometimes in the sun, sometimes in the shade. It is very hot here. I depart at 6:30 tomorrow morning for the airport to go to Abu Simble. This piece is in the heart of Egyptians. Wiki it! Then a stay in a hotel here in Aswan, and then on Saturday, another early departure, this time to return to Cairo. I pushed myself to ask for my flight to be changed to earlier in the day so that I can go to the Egyptian Museum. I told Emco, my host agency here, regardless of what is going on in Tahrir Square this time, if the Museum is open, I am going in.
Then Sunday, my birthday—the pyramids at Giza, the Sphinx, Memphis and the Complex of Sakkara. How's that for a way to celebrate being 64! Then Chapter Two of my epic vacation comes to a close as Monday, I head for East Africa, landing in Nairobi.
Later, Thursday...
Gobsmacked! Serge rested, Frédérique and their guide, Denise, dined together and it was lovely. Denise is sick with a bad cold like me, too. in fact, I notice a lot of people coughing and wheezing around me. After dinner, Serge went to their room an d i decided to join Frédérique on the top deck while he has a cigarette. We talk for a bit, sometimes in English because I think he likes to practice and he does very well, and then out of nowhere, he gives be a BEAUTIFUL scarf and an Egyptian amulet to wear.
He wants to give me strength, he said. He has seen my timidity. And he said the nicest things to me and coming from a stranger who wants nothing from me, it was, like so many things on this trip, overwhelming. But this time I was being overwhelmed by a living person. Frédérique is turning 40 on Dec. 6; I turn 64 on Dec. 5. We both work in the visual arts, so our connection was wonderful.
Friday...
This morning I had to meet my ride at 6:30. As I waited, down came Frédérique to wait with me and to say goodbye. When I got in the cab, I was heart broken to leave them—particularly Frédérick. Back to being on my own. So off I go to Abu Simble.
Well that is weird. Up at 6:00 to be at the airport in time to go to Abu Simble. The flight is half an hour; we are very close to Syria and in what was once Nubia. When we land, your guide finds you and steers you to the correct bus. As I have said, this is industrial tourism. The bus ride is 15 minutes. When we arrive, we hurry to the monument because the mob that comes from Aswan by bus must leave by 9:00 and. That means my group of 12 English people plus moi will have the tomb to ourselves.
I am first off the bus and first into the tomb. In fact, for 5 minutes, I am totally alone inside. The group resembles in the shade of a tree to listen to more explanation about the site and it's history. Then we have a little more free time before it is back to the airport for the flight back to Aswan. It is stinking hot; the sun practically burns your skin. In summer here, the temperatures stay in the fifties!!
Click on the photos to enlarge them.
We are a fairly large plane and we are full. Everyone has gone to all this expense and devoted so much time to see Abu Simble, but in fact, one has very little lime actually there. Now, Iam back on the pane in Abu Simble heading back to Aswan (and the rumored, nice hotel, the Basma).
Note:
1. Have I mentioned that the famous scarab is actually a dung beetle?
2. I am pining for Frédérique's scintillating company.
3. My cold is awful.
4. There are flies everywhere!
OK, the Basma Hotel. It is like a resort. I have two balconies: one is HUGE with two deck chairs and the other is small. The cross ventilation with two walls of sliding glass doors is spectacular. There is a pool (that I won't use), and restaurants and bars and stores and the most beautiful and refreshing terrace bar where I ordered two cokes. I should be sleeping, but I can't resist this bar for lentil soup and a garden salad and some chilling.
Yesterday, feeling crappy and headachy, I decided to take some aspirin, and without thinking, on the boat, I turned on the tap and took my pills with a glass of tap water. At dinner, I told Serge, Frédérique and Denise, and they all panicked—Denise especially. She went to her room and returned with some medications and she told me to take one right then, so I did. I don't even know what it was, but so far, so good. I have a lovely bath tub and nice beds; a nap is in order after lunch.
There were so others here in the restaurant when I arrived, but they have all gone and I am alone with five waiters.even with the worst cold I have had in a long, long time, this is an exceptional experience. And although this is like no travel experience that I have ever had before (travel agent, drivers picking me up at the airport, someone calling me sir all the time, guides, TIPPING, the whole package), this is a fabulous way to go if you can swallow the bill. And feeling so weak, this is perfect.
I feel a little like a rock star—flying to a site like Abu Simbel and back yesterday morning, and then the luxury hotel in the afternoon. And now, this morning, another flight, this time to Cairo. And the day after tomorrow, I fly to Nairobi. Tomorrow, one thing I will do on my birthday, is start with the Malarone (the anti-Malaria drug).
In southern Egypt, fully half the population is engaged in tourism. With some 10-15% of usual crowds, most have been displaced. My sense is that the older generation of tourism officials are taking all the business, leaving the young to cope. Virtually everyone who deals with me is a middle-aged man. I feel for the many, many people down the food chain of tourism here who are doing completely without. And it is all because of the protests in Tahrir Square and the media overkill.
So imagine the conflict: the protests are bringing a form of democracy to the people, but they are also bankrupting many people. That makes for a complex relationship with the protest. Tourism is the second industry here. I didn't ask what the first one was: sand? Probably agriculture. BUT, to be clear, everyone I speak with is super happy that Mubarak is out. What's ahead, though, remains unclear. There is abundant optimism here and a new found popular strength.
Notes:
1. Cauliflowers here are the size of pumpkins.
2. From the air you can see the longest, straitest, flattest roads imaginable.this is a bleak landscape like no other I have seen.
3. Only since the construction of the Aswan dam have hippos and crocodiles been absent from the lower Nile.
4. I am writing this in a lobby restaurant. I am alone. There are roughly eight staff coming and going, in and out, but I ordered 10 minutes ago and still no food. I am feeling faint and actually have been fearing for consciousness I am so hungry. Te restaurant was not open when I left early, and I did not know we were going to the museum, and driving here took an hour with traffic. I am seriously faint with hunger. It is 3:00 pm. So I flagged one of the staff a few minutes ago, and still no simple sandwich. And this is one of those "sophisticated" establishments.
Saturday...
Emeco, my host agency, consistently has me at the airport before anyone else. S I do a lot of sitting around reading the New Yorker or a book on my iPad. But mostly, I watch the other people and the staff and how people interact.
The fight was uneventful and Ahkmed was there to meet me at Cairo airport. He is a charming man; I really feel comfortable with him. Having guides when alone is an interesting experience. It is a professional relationship, but it is bed on my pleasure. Still, we have to get to know each other. Most, I don't want to know, but Ahkmed would be a pleasant visit any time.
So there's the nameless driver (Ahkmed told me his name, but I have forgotten; he speaks not a word of English), Ahmed and me in the back of the car for eleven. Then we pick up Dahlia—all coordination by cell phones—so there are three staff and a bus serving a single client. I am used to it now, but at first it was jarring. I am in for the same, only different in Kenya/Tanzania.
Morocco? Was I in Morocco? It feels like a vague memory already. It is the past; Egypt is my present. And tomorrow a birthday to remember and then Egypt, too, becomes part of the past.
So as I was saying, the four of us and the van for eleven kept rolling and then we dropped off Ahkmed. Denise and I continued on to the Egyptian Museum. Well, let me revert to point form:
1. The building is chock a block with stuff in crates. Some crates are wrapped in plastic, some are exhibits and others re unopened. There is room after room and it is chaos. They are building a new museum near the pyramids, but it is unknown when it will open because of the revolution.
2. There are enormous display cases FULL of unbelievable objects—hundreds of them—unlabeled.
3. The jewelry alone is worth a museum.
4. The painted sarcophagi, huge and towering over you, can launch a person width imagination into a lifetime of dreaming.
5. The museum shop was looted during the revolution. I am broken hearted about that because what I see everywhere is crap.
6. It's more mall than museum, really. People take calls and they sit around. Guides are all talking.
7. I see what the guide drives me to, and we kind of go at her pace.
Gold, shmold. Cases of lapis win! And to the Egyptians, silver was the most revered precious metal.
The last room we went to was all Ahkenaten. More than any other Egyptian, Ahkenaten was my man. The statuary of his reign is different from all the others. You know work of his reign even without scholarship. It is unique, for me, gorgeous. And whereas I have seen a piece or two in touring exhibitions in America, I have never been in a roomful of works from his dynasty.
I suspect the absence of much documentation, or sophisticated presentation like audio guides or whatever, enables the guides to earn their living. I expected to tour around at my own pace, but in fact, a guide is a good idea.
It is the densest museum experience imaginable.
NO PHOTOS ARE ALLOWED
The food has arrived. It is now 3:20. I inhaled the food but I feel like I can stand up and go to bed to rest before a heavy day tomorrow. There is a lot on the agenda plus Dalia says she can take me to a pace that might have things I like and that are not made in China. And I want to have a nice birthday dinner in the evening if I feel up to it.
I found out today (Saturday) that Monday I am free all day because my flight to Nairobi doesn't leave until some ungodly hour late at night. I guess I am on an overnight flight which does not make me very happy given my current state of health, so right after finishing eating, I was in bed for a 4.5 hour nap.
Friday, December 2, 2011
Aswan and Abu Simbel
Dear Readers,
After saying so much for the past few days, today there is little to report. It was largely a day for coughing and blowing my nose, but Osama and I went to the old Aswan Dam (ho hum) and then the new High Dam (ho hum), the Unfinished Obelisk and then we took a boat to the relocated Philae Temple.
I came back to the altar for lunch and cancelled the trip I bought to sail on a Felucca. There was no wind, it is stinking hot and I'd be trapped on a about with Osama and the boat operator.... Not my cup of tea.
The delight of the day has been Serge and Frédérique. They are friends who have know each other twenty years. Serge is, perhaps in his fifties, and a chef; Frédérique is an artist! We met yesterday and ate together last night, but this afternoon, while Serge rested, Frédérique and I had a very nice talk. I wish we had met sooner. He is sweet, French, quite open and it is a delight to have someone to talk with. He bout my coke last night, and when he and Serge left to do something tonight, he was sure to say that we would eat together tonight.
It was nice to relax here where the touts cannot get me, in comfort and with a bath after a day of rest sometimes in the sun, sometimes in the shade. It is very hot here. I depart at 6:30 tomorrow morning for the airport to go to Abu Simble. This piece is in the heart of Egyptians. Wiki it! Then a stay in a hotel here in Aswan, and then on Saturday, another early departure, this time to return to Cairo. I pushed myself to ask for my flight to be changed to earlier in the day so that I can go to the Egyptian Museum. I told Emco, my host agency here, regardless of what is going on in Tahrir Square this time, if the Museum is open, I am going in.
Then Sunday, my birthday—the pyramids at Giza, the Sphinx, Memphis and the Complex of Sakkara. How's that for a way to celebrate being 64! Then Chapter Two of my epic vacation comes to a close as Monday, I head for East Africa, landing in Nairobi.
Later, Thursday...
Gobsmacked! Serge rested, Frédérique and their guide, Denise, dined together and it was lovely. Denise is sick with a bad cold like me, too. in fact, I notice a lot of people coughing and wheezing around me. After dinner, Serge went to their room an d i decided to join Frédérique on the top deck while he has a cigarette. We talk for a bit, sometimes in English because I think he likes to practice and he does very well, and then out of nowhere, he gives be a BEAUTIFUL scarf and an Egyptian amulet to wear.
He wants to give me strength, he said. He has seen my timidity. And he said the nicest things to me and coming from a stranger who wants nothing from me, it was, like so many things on this trip, overwhelming. But this time I was being overwhelmed by a living person. Frédérique is turning 40 on Dec. 6; I turn 64 on Dec. 5. We both work in the visual arts, so our connection was wonderful.
Friday...
This morning I had to meet my ride at 6:30. As I waited, down came Frédérique to wait with me and to say goodbye. When I got in the cab, I was heart broken to leave them—particularly Frédérique. Back to being on my own. So off I go to Abu Simble.
Well that is weird. Up at 6:00 to be at the airport in time to go to Abu Simbel. The flight is half an hour; we are very close to Syria and in what was once Nubia. When we land, your guide finds you and steers you to the correct bus. As I have said, this is industrial tourism. The bus ride is 15 minutes. When we arrive, we hurry to the monument because the mob that comes from Aswan by bus must leave by 9:00 and. That means my group of 12 English people plus moi will have the tomb to ourselves.
I am first off the bus and first into the tomb. In fact, for 5 minutes, I am totally alone inside. The group resembles in the shade of a tree to listen to more explanation about the site and it's history. Then we have a little more free time before it is back to the airport for the flight back to Aswan. It is stinking hot; the sun practically burns your skin. In summer here, the temperatures stay in the fifties!! (Mimosa below, like in Nice!)
We are a fairly large plane and we are full. Everyone has gone to all this expense and devoted so much time to see Abu Simble, but in fact, one has very little lime actually there. Now, Iam back on the pane in Abu Simble heading back to Aswan (and the rumored, nice hotel, the Basma).
Note:
1. Have I mentioned that the famous scarab is actually a dung beetle?
2. I am pining for Frédérique's scintillating company.
3. My cold is awful.
4. There are flies everywhere!
OK, the Basma Hotel. It is like a resort. I have two balconies: one is HUGE with two deck chairs and the other is small. The cross ventilation with two walls of sliding glass doors is spectacular. There is a pool (that I won't use), and restaurants and bars and stores and the most beautiful and refreshing terrace bar where I ordered two cokes. I should be sleeping, but I can't resist this bar for lentil soup and a garden salad and some chilling.
Yesterday, feeling crappy and headachy, I decided to take some aspirin, and without thinking, on the boat, I turned on the tap and took my pills with a glass of tap water. At dinner, I told Serge, Frédérique and Denise, and they all panicked—Denise especially. She went to her room and returned with some medications and she told me to take one right then, so I did. I don't even know what it was, but so far, so good. I have a lovely bath tub and nice beds; a nap is in order after lunch. (My deck at the Basma.)
There were so others here in the restaurant when I arrived, but they have all gone and I am alone with five waiters.even with the worst cold I have had in a long, long time, this is an exceptional experience. And although this is like no travel experience that I have ever had before (travel agent, drivers picking me up at the airport, someone calling me sir all the time, guides, TIPPING, the whole package), this is a fabulous way to go if you can swallow the bill. And feeling so weak, this is perfect.
I feel a little like a rock star—flying to a site like Abu Simbel and back in the morning, and this luxury in the afternoon. All this and free Internet!!
After saying so much for the past few days, today there is little to report. It was largely a day for coughing and blowing my nose, but Osama and I went to the old Aswan Dam (ho hum) and then the new High Dam (ho hum), the Unfinished Obelisk and then we took a boat to the relocated Philae Temple.
I came back to the altar for lunch and cancelled the trip I bought to sail on a Felucca. There was no wind, it is stinking hot and I'd be trapped on a about with Osama and the boat operator.... Not my cup of tea.
The delight of the day has been Serge and Frédérique. They are friends who have know each other twenty years. Serge is, perhaps in his fifties, and a chef; Frédérique is an artist! We met yesterday and ate together last night, but this afternoon, while Serge rested, Frédérique and I had a very nice talk. I wish we had met sooner. He is sweet, French, quite open and it is a delight to have someone to talk with. He bout my coke last night, and when he and Serge left to do something tonight, he was sure to say that we would eat together tonight.
It was nice to relax here where the touts cannot get me, in comfort and with a bath after a day of rest sometimes in the sun, sometimes in the shade. It is very hot here. I depart at 6:30 tomorrow morning for the airport to go to Abu Simble. This piece is in the heart of Egyptians. Wiki it! Then a stay in a hotel here in Aswan, and then on Saturday, another early departure, this time to return to Cairo. I pushed myself to ask for my flight to be changed to earlier in the day so that I can go to the Egyptian Museum. I told Emco, my host agency here, regardless of what is going on in Tahrir Square this time, if the Museum is open, I am going in.
Then Sunday, my birthday—the pyramids at Giza, the Sphinx, Memphis and the Complex of Sakkara. How's that for a way to celebrate being 64! Then Chapter Two of my epic vacation comes to a close as Monday, I head for East Africa, landing in Nairobi.
Later, Thursday...
Gobsmacked! Serge rested, Frédérique and their guide, Denise, dined together and it was lovely. Denise is sick with a bad cold like me, too. in fact, I notice a lot of people coughing and wheezing around me. After dinner, Serge went to their room an d i decided to join Frédérique on the top deck while he has a cigarette. We talk for a bit, sometimes in English because I think he likes to practice and he does very well, and then out of nowhere, he gives be a BEAUTIFUL scarf and an Egyptian amulet to wear.
He wants to give me strength, he said. He has seen my timidity. And he said the nicest things to me and coming from a stranger who wants nothing from me, it was, like so many things on this trip, overwhelming. But this time I was being overwhelmed by a living person. Frédérique is turning 40 on Dec. 6; I turn 64 on Dec. 5. We both work in the visual arts, so our connection was wonderful.
Friday...
This morning I had to meet my ride at 6:30. As I waited, down came Frédérique to wait with me and to say goodbye. When I got in the cab, I was heart broken to leave them—particularly Frédérique. Back to being on my own. So off I go to Abu Simble.
Well that is weird. Up at 6:00 to be at the airport in time to go to Abu Simbel. The flight is half an hour; we are very close to Syria and in what was once Nubia. When we land, your guide finds you and steers you to the correct bus. As I have said, this is industrial tourism. The bus ride is 15 minutes. When we arrive, we hurry to the monument because the mob that comes from Aswan by bus must leave by 9:00 and. That means my group of 12 English people plus moi will have the tomb to ourselves.
I am first off the bus and first into the tomb. In fact, for 5 minutes, I am totally alone inside. The group resembles in the shade of a tree to listen to more explanation about the site and it's history. Then we have a little more free time before it is back to the airport for the flight back to Aswan. It is stinking hot; the sun practically burns your skin. In summer here, the temperatures stay in the fifties!! (Mimosa below, like in Nice!)
We are a fairly large plane and we are full. Everyone has gone to all this expense and devoted so much time to see Abu Simble, but in fact, one has very little lime actually there. Now, Iam back on the pane in Abu Simble heading back to Aswan (and the rumored, nice hotel, the Basma).
Note:
1. Have I mentioned that the famous scarab is actually a dung beetle?
2. I am pining for Frédérique's scintillating company.
3. My cold is awful.
4. There are flies everywhere!
OK, the Basma Hotel. It is like a resort. I have two balconies: one is HUGE with two deck chairs and the other is small. The cross ventilation with two walls of sliding glass doors is spectacular. There is a pool (that I won't use), and restaurants and bars and stores and the most beautiful and refreshing terrace bar where I ordered two cokes. I should be sleeping, but I can't resist this bar for lentil soup and a garden salad and some chilling.
Yesterday, feeling crappy and headachy, I decided to take some aspirin, and without thinking, on the boat, I turned on the tap and took my pills with a glass of tap water. At dinner, I told Serge, Frédérique and Denise, and they all panicked—Denise especially. She went to her room and returned with some medications and she told me to take one right then, so I did. I don't even know what it was, but so far, so good. I have a lovely bath tub and nice beds; a nap is in order after lunch. (My deck at the Basma.)
There were so others here in the restaurant when I arrived, but they have all gone and I am alone with five waiters.even with the worst cold I have had in a long, long time, this is an exceptional experience. And although this is like no travel experience that I have ever had before (travel agent, drivers picking me up at the airport, someone calling me sir all the time, guides, TIPPING, the whole package), this is a fabulous way to go if you can swallow the bill. And feeling so weak, this is perfect.
I feel a little like a rock star—flying to a site like Abu Simbel and back in the morning, and this luxury in the afternoon. All this and free Internet!!
Location:Al Fanadek,,Egypt
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)