A little while ago, I made a brief trip to Egypt after visiting my parents for Christmas. As per normal, here’s a travel blog derived from my travel diary.
Day 1 (Sat, Dec 30, 2018)
Wake up from a surprisingly good, if short sleep on the plane as the lights come up and the pilot alerts us of the upcoming landing. Outside, low clouds appear to hug the lights of Cairo. As we disembark, a guy shoves and is rude to the guy who was sitting next to me. On the bus, me and another passenger console him and assure him he was in the right and the other guy was just a dick. A short chat with the 2 England based Egyptians follows along with some travel tips and an ominous comment about the air quality “those weren’t clouds”. Breeze through immigration, with nobody paying attention to my visa. Hey ho. Skip through baggage checks and onto my pickup, a very friendly guy with a white beard. As we walk up to the car, an ancient Lada, he apologizes “old car, old driver”. Taking off, he drives like I used to play GTA, taking the road markings as little more than suggestions as he weaves in and out of traffic, pointing out landmarks as we speed by. “That mosque is over 1000 years old. America? It was built yesterday!”. At the hostel, we ride a rickety elevator up to floor 5 where I connect and sit for a while (can’t check in early). Eli, the hostel guy talks through a potential trip to Aswan, Luxor etc. and after some deliberation, I decide to go for it. Breakfast follows, then I organise a trip to the pyramids. We stop off at a “papyrus museum” which is just a shop, so I tip and excuse myself from the tacky glow of the darks scrolls and we continue to Giza. Disembark from into a crowded street, sort out tickets and enter a marginally less crowded area. Touts everywhere. Circle the Sphinx, then the pyramids. Get up close and they dominate the sky. From a distance, their monolithic geometry hints at greater plans. Loop back and take a short camel ride to a panoramic point then back down for a pickup. Take a long drive to Saqqara pyramid which the driver then informs me is “under construction”, so we admire for a moment (from a distance) before driving back. Return to the hostel and settle down to relax and upload photos while one of the hostel’s kittens (Nishi) jumps on my lap and starts purring away. Head out to get some food and wander around Tahir square for a bit before picking up some water and money and winding my way back. Shower and sit down causing Nisha to again jump on my lap. Chat with the French family about their experience down south for a bit. Head off to train station and board through a shambolic entrance and settle down as the train pulls into the night. The announcement board shows a series of mostly nonsensical numbers (2018, 21.5°, 06.12, 1610, 00:27, 02.7°). Dinner of chicken, chips and rice arrive around 23:00 as we pull into Beni Souf. Lean back and stumble into sleep.
Day 2
Wake patchily and find we are sitting at Dishna. As the train starts off again, we roll past mist clad fields on the right and buildings backed by distant hills on the right. Eventually pull into the bustling Luxor station where Ahmed greets me “I’m guessing you’re Steve” he says, gesturing at the crowd of Egyptians around me. Hop in a car and pick up a French/Californian couple before driving a few meters to hop on our cruise boat. The boat is little more than a tacky hotel retrofitted to float and overbooked so I cross 2 more boats to find another. Quick run through of plans for the next few days, then a 3 hour wait until the room is ready. After some brief confusion, I get the key and ditch my gear. Slow lunch, then a quick jaunt to buy some water before being picked up for Karnak. Short drive and security theatre, followed by ticket buying and we enter Karnak. Immense columns and a whisper of former glory can’t be captured in words or pictures. After the tour we are left to our own devices and we wander north to avoid the throngs of tourists and meander back through vividly coloured chambers and temples. Back at the obelisk, we skirt outside and spend the remainder of our time soaking in the scale of the pillars in the dying light. Head back to the guide and as the taxi is blocked by buses and prayer, we stop at another papyrus “museum” that is word-for-word identical to the one in Cairo, then off to Luxor temple as night sets. The lights give a different tone, but still grand. Shadowed hieroglyphs stand stark against the textured wall. I wonder if the workers knew their work would survive so long. On the way back, we pass someone clearly very important based on his armed guard, photographer and the road closures that follow him. I almost bump into him. Back at the boats, we find they have changed order (Monte Carlo is now first). We split up and I head upstairs to chill briefly before heading downstairs for the festivities. Belly dancing in the bar first, followed by a spinning dance with bowls and a heavy, light up coat. Downstairs an impressive platter is prepared, with an island of dessert taking the crown. Several rounds of turkey, fruit and sweets, chatting with a Californian mother and daughter pair before heading upstairs for a much needed shower before heading out to look for fireworks in the open air. On the way up to the top deck I meet Veronica from Madrid in a very sparkly dress, who proceeds to gather a group of Spanish and Italians. Up top, we briefly struggle to figure out the time before someone finds a countdown and we pop some grapes. Abrazos por todos, then chatting on the deck before turning in, everyone shattered and ready for an early morning.
Day 3
Jolted from a dream by alarm and slowly drag myself downstairs for a fast breakfast before heading to the lobby to wait. Bobby and Marcus turn up, Bobby retreats to room to throw off some unnecessary layers and we are picked up in good time. Our guide Imad christens us “Group ISIS” because “nobody fucks with ISIS”. Wend our way around town to pick up a few more, then drive to the Colossi of Memnon, which are significantly more worn down than I expected before I realised that I was thinking of Abu Simbel. Still imposing though, evoking the Argonath. I wonder if JRR took a hint. Scenery turns rapidly dusty as we ascend to Hatshepsut temple. Imad gathers us together after an unnecessary train ride “ISIS, over here”. Crowded of course, but grand and striking against the hills behind. Back to the minibus and onto the valley of the kings. Impressive resin cast of the valley and tombs beneath gives a good sense of scale. Another short ’train’ then we descend into Ramses IV’s tomb, unfinished at the bottom, but giving a clear sense of the intended scale. Ramses IX tomb follows and finally we descend down a long corridor deep into Marenptah’s tomb, colder in the heart of the mountain. Outside, we exit through the gift shop and after a series of confusing delays, Bobbie calls the tour operator, who, under fire, assures us that the tour will continue and we can chase down our boat if needs be. On to the next temple then. The Temple of Ramesses III is pretty fantastic as it happens, standing apart and proud, the symmetry beautiful. Time pressures us to hop in a beat up taxi and onto the waterfront where a smiling driver picks us up and speeds across the river after we jump across a few boats. Our boats are the last ones left and we jump on and part ways for the day. Despite the rush, still time to have lunch and a shower before the Monte Carlo pulls away from dock. Spend a while unwinding in my room before heading up top to read, then join Veronica to photograph the many details of the Nile, lit by reddening Sun. We pass under a thick black cloud belched out by a riverside factory before heading down. Spend dinner eating and chatting with 3 Brazilians (only one of whom speaks English) in Spanish. Chill on the top deck for a bit before descending to an early night, despite the music blaring from an empty bar below.
Day 4
Wake a little dazed and rise after a door knock. Head downstairs for breakfast with Veronica and the Spanish group. We pull into Edfu and I decide to hook up with the Brazilian and Californian group (including Phil and Monica) today. Hop on a horse driven cart and ride through the dusty streets of Edfu. Smoke and dust swirl in front of our eyes, the Brownian motion visible in the soft light of dawn. After being dropped off at a horse car park, we enter temple. Imposing and dark, but lit brilliantly on the outside. Massive crowd around the fake boat, so I skip that outside a short glance. On the way back our horse suffers a breakdown and must be pulled out of oncoming (horse) traffic before continuing. Head up to the top deck to read in the shade and am shortly joined by Phil and Monica, escaping the rising heat. We float past ruins embedded deep into sedimentary hills, trains and vast forests of green on each side. The buildings are fewer here. Eventually, we head down to lunch (same group as the tour) with the Californians. Walking up from lunch my flip flop blows out so I repair it before heading back to my room to nurse an oncoming cold. Back up at the deck, I read and watch the increasing green scenery roll by. Late in the afternoon, we pull into Kom Ombo and take a short walk the temple followed by a slightly less short tour, introducing us to the deeply carved and still smooth reliefs before we are let free to enjoy the last golden minutes of sunlight before dusk consumes the moment and we leave via the crocodile museum and gift shop. Back at room, a shower ensues, then messages are exchanged in an attempt to confirm tomorrow’s pickup time, then a headache sets in so I pop some pills and rest in the dark before venturing down to dinner. Good food as headache abates and we talk about hiking and the outdoors. Half of us have been to EBC and all have been to Torres del Paine. Good people.
Day 5
Wake ahead of alarm, head heavy from cold. Quick wash then downstairs to an empty lobby sole for one of the staff smoking into the corner. Grab some free tea before Phil and Monica arrive, followed shortly by Camilla and her friend, who are picked up a few minutes later. I’m picked up around 4:15 and rushed to a taxi, then bus as my itinerary is blurted out at my sleep addled mind. See Bobby and Max on the bus before we pull away into the waiting night and military checkpoints. As the sun rises, the desert sprawls out, flat and endless under the pale light, but grows more martian as outcroppings appear. Hot and dry as we disembark and make our way through the crowded museum recounting the relocation of Abu Simbel (very impressive) and finally onto Abu Simbel itself, impressively standing tall in the sun. Back on the bus, I pop a paracetamol, feeling my temperature rising but as drive through the desert, the natural heat makes it difficult to judge my rising fever. Groups filter off as we drive through Aswan, until finally me, Bobbie and Max jump off and are immediately greeted by a new guide who somehow knows who and where we are despite us being late, in the wrong place and him never having seen us before. The logistics of this country are bewildering. We wait for the gangwalk to the Golden Rose (B+Ms ship) to be laid down then board to pick up their luggage and use the toilets after pushing through a surge of disembarking passengers. As we wait for Max to finish up in the bathroom, the staff start threatening to launch the ship but Bobby stands her ground while I jump ahead to stop the gang walk being laid down. After an intense few minutes, we’re outside and discussing our next steps. Decide to skip the high dam, because ain’t nobody got time for a dam today, so we hop in a car to Philae temple. Short drive later, get tickets and hop on a boat to the island temple, another relocation since the dam. Tour followed by a few minutes of free time where I bump into the other group inside the temple and say our goodbyes on the outside before returning to the guide for pickup. Different boat route back as the sun sets behind the boats speeding along side us. Back in the car and get dropped off at Bobby and Max’s hotel where we say our goodbyes before I walk literally round the corner to the train station, stopping off to take out some cash. LlA hazy dusk settles quickly over the station as I pick up a few supplies. The boat manager turns up at the station to remind me that I forgot to pay for WiFi access on the boat so I cough up, astounded again at the logistics of this country before boarding the train. We pull into Kom Ombo about 45 mins later, just after my food arrives and I dive into my first proper meal of the day. Read as the train speeds north.
Day 6
Despite constant vibration, noise and contortion, I manage to sleep a while, but still wake in the dark, hours from Cairo. Throw my hoodie over my head and manage to nod back off again until Giza, so rise and watch the city roll by until Cairo central. Getting up, my back hurts from how I’ve been sleeping, but I set out into the chilly morning. Dusty streets, slowly starting to fill up with traffic and stray dogs before I get back to the hostel. Room not ready of course, so I sit down for breakfast and recharging before checking in, ditching my stuff and setting straight out again for the museum. Queues and 4 separate security checkpoints before I get inside. The vast building evokes a warehouse, but the exhibits are astounding. Stunningly life-like statues, a huge variety of artefacts. After hours of taking it all in, I exit back into the heat of the late afternoon and wander towards Kahn Al-Kahlili market, picking up some food along the way. First along brightly lit commercial streets, then through some narrow passageways before reaching progressively busier markets. Tourists, tack and touts increase as I need the epicentre, a mosque lit up with green lights. Walk back, picking quieter, darker alleys to move faster. Get turned round at one point and cross to the wrong side, but make it back eventually. Shower, pack and send some messages before falling asleep in my first static bed in Egypt.
Day 7
Woken at 5 by the call to prayer and rise to wash and repack a little later. Drop off the key and head downstairs to the taxi, who is the same guy who picked me up last time. “Traffic in Egypt is not traffic, it is war” he pontificates as the creaking Lada battles for space with larger trucks. Dropped off at the wrong terminal, but auto-check-in and walk to Terminal 2, passing through 6 security and visa checks before making it airside. Lifting off into the dusty morning, I catch a glimpse of the pyramids shrouded in haze. Watch the patchwork Nile delta farmland pass below before reaching the Mediterranean. Orange gives way to green, gives way to blue.