Luxor

(John) We had wanted to visit Mt Sinai and St Katherine’s Monastery from Dahab. Normally there would have been a scheduled bus that would have taken us for a reasonable cost, but that was cancelled since the uprising. So getting there involved hiring a taxi which we almost conspired to do, but our timing was lousy and by the time we got our heads around the cost we had missed our window to go and decided that we had spent long enough in Dahab and needed to get into Africa. That sounds like a quick decision but it was anything but. We finally chose to take a 18 hour bus overnight to Luxor. It would take us south to Sharm el Sheik, the tourist city where we heard that ex-president Mubarek was hiding out, then north along the gulf of Suez, through Suez, under the canal and south on the African side to Luxor. The journey began easily enough, our hotel had sent a boy to buy the tickets;he also drove us to the bus station. There were four buses in the station, one of them looked brand new and very comfortable, but we assumed that ours would be the dirty one with the doors falling off. In fact, we were wrong and after a few minutes of waiting we heard the call for Luxor and were pointed to a different bus altogether that was dirty but the doors seemed to be working fine. As we waited to stow our luggage underneath, we realised that a fee was being charged. I had noticed that it was 2 LE per bag. I quickly decided that for a 20 hour bus ride, 8LE or $1.40CAD was cheap insurance and did not want to piss off the man who might be capable of seeing that our bags remained on the bus to Luxor. Lesley had noticed more correctly that it was 1LE that he was charging. We were in fact charged 2LE per bag but after a little confusion ended up paying 7LE. There was another family on board from England who refused to pay it. Naturally we hate paying these charges as they are arbitrary, unadvertised and opportunistically taken from foreigners. But we did expect Baksheesh in Egypt so we shouldn't have been surprised. Our ticket was written entirely in Arabic and we suspected we had assigned seats but the numbers were hand written and illegible to us so we sat wherever and as the bus was empty we spread out. We had smelt cigarette smoke as we boarded and had assumed that we would be fuelling our second hand smoke addiction for the entire trip. But as we drove away, the air conditioning kicked in, the driver stopped smoking and the air cleared. In fact, the driver was the only person who smoked on the bus. Although the bus filled up along route with Egyptian men, not one of them lit up inside. We were mightily impressed, but I had to follow them outside occasionally and stand close while they smoked so as to avoid the withdrawal symptoms.

Our first stop was Sharm El Sheik a resort on the southern tip of Sinai. We were told by the driver to eat a meal as we would be there for 45 minutes. The bus station was an impressive enough building. Room for a bustling community of shops and restaurants. But it felt like a Soviet era shopping mall in some forgotten corner of the USSR. There were some guys selling soda and chips, a man in a huge kitchen making tea and another who was selling the meal that had been suggested. It was a dry bun with a spoonfull of cream cheese. Sam needed something so we ordered one for 4 LE; it was worth a 10^th of that. We sat at one of four or five lonely, rusty bistro tables set up in a large concrete space the size of a basketball court surrounded by empty glass fronted shops and office space. Without a doubt the most depressing bus station I have ever set foot in. At least the weather was warm.

Once back on the bus we were kicked out of seats by their rightful owners who were looking worried and expecting a problem, but when they realised we just needed some lessons in Arabic handwriting they were very helpful and we found the right seats. That was the extent of the excitement for the next few hours. We went through a few checkpoints, watched the sunset, gazed at the desert and tried not to think about the length of our journey. I had just managed to drift off to sleep when the bus stopped and the driver asked everybody to get off and retrieve their bags from underneath the bus. We were at the checkpoint just before Suez, which marks the border between the Sinai side of Egypt and the rest of Egypt. Or geographically, Asia and Africa. It was a simple process, we all got our bags from the bus and stood like naughty schoolchildren in a nice straight line with our luggage displayed in front of us. Soldiers came up the line picking on people to open their bags. One picked on me to answer some questions. Regular stuff like - Where are you from? Where have you been? Where did you enter Egypt? Where are you going? Have you ever been to Israel? Is this your wife, son, daughter? Then he said “Welcome”, had his buddy search for hidden treasure in my bag with a metal detector and before long we were all getting back on the bus and driving through a tunnel under the Suez canal. Only 10 hours to go. We had two more ugly, bad food, bus station stops between Suez and Luxor. The former was made worse by blaring music, then we were let off somewhere outside Luxor. A young man whom we distrusted completely arranged a mini bus taxi for us, a Korean traveller and himself. He helped the driver find the hotel we were looking for and got us a good price on the fare. We were expecting to be led up a back alley and robbed. All he wanted was a little baksheesh from the hotel. Without him we could easily have paid double for the taxi. We also got there pretty quickly. Considering we had been pretty much awake all night, we should have been ready for bed but we were determined to get some stuff done so we walked out, found some food and went to the Karnak temple, which Sam has written all about. As 18 hour bus rides go, it was pretty good – mostly non smoking, fairly air conditioned, reasonably comfortable reclining seats, pretty clean, interesting checkpoints, curtains and helpful passengers. If it hadn't been for the grotty depressing bus stations I'd have nothing to complain about.

(Lesley) We saw some some Egyptian tombs!! We were in Luxor, Egypt; and we went to the Valley of the Kings. Admission gets you into 3 tombs so we pre-selected 3 that we wanted to see, but rotational closures (for upkeep) ensured that all our pre-pics were closed, so we picked 3 open ones and enjoyed those instead.

Our day started with our complementary rooftop breakfast at Hotel Oasis, where we enjoyed a quarter cup of Corn Flakes, a glass of milk, a cup of tea, a mini pancake, a bun with La Vache Qui Rit cheese and a sampling of apricot jam. Not a bad way to start the day (especially since we supplemented our Corn Flakes with muesli and All Bran... and... Mhari taught us all to keep back a little milk to add to our tea).

We then equipped ourselves with sunscreen, hats, sunglasses and plenty of water, and headed out to the throng of waiting taxi drivers for the Barter-Fest that would get us a cab for the day. We were very lucky to find a nice man who, in his desperation for a job for the day, offered his driving services, his cab for a day and a tour of all the places we wanted to see for 70 LE. John and Sam were negotiating when Mhari and I caught up and the price jumped to 100 LE. However, we agreed on a firm 80 LE no baksheesh knowing that this would give us some room for baksheesh if things went well. Achmed's English was pretty good and he was knowledgeable so we chatted a bit about what we would see, Mubarak and the uprising, economics, population density, the environment and such. He did not give us the usual story about how poor Egyptians are compared to Canadians. He was good company. He took us first to a fruit stall then a grocery store so we could buy reasonably priced snacks for our day then off we went to the Colossi of Memnon. Next, we went to the Valley of the Kings. We spent two hours there, looking in 3 tombs. In the afternoon, we went to Hatshetput Temple which was rather deserted so we had the run of the place. Apparently there are usually 50 big tour buses in the parking lot. As we tired and got quieter, so did Achmed our driver. We had him leave us where we had found him and paid him 100 LE. His face lit up in astonishment as we had bartered hard for our 80 LE day.

“For me?” he asked with true delight. (25% tip) We were pleased with him and he was pleased to get the extra money.

It is easy to tip when people are nice and things are done well. Too often (for my comfort), the tip is demanded, or simply taken from the change you are due. The other day I paid my baksheesh to use a toilet before using it (never a good idea): the first stall was flooded, the second bore the residue of an explosive bowel movement (like.. spray factor x10) and the third stall had a burned out light bulb and was pitch black! I felt like saying something on the way out but didn't think my Arabic could do justice to my complaints, besides my expertise on cake dried brown BM spray wasn't sharp enough to determine if the BM residue was a few hours or a few days dry, but clearly the woman to whom I gave my baksheesh hadn't been in to clean the toilets in the last 4 days.

As well, many restaurants post their menus in English and Arabic. As we read the Arabic numbers, we can see that every price is double on the English menu. If the food is great and still reasonably priced it doesn't upset us too much but when the quality or the price fails to impress we feel like pawns in a game.

One of the most frustrating things is when deciding where to eat we enquire about prices and are too often told: No worries, good price! and are ushered in, or served instantly. There is no understanding that the prices of the different meals may impact our choices. If the chicken is cheaper, I'll take it; if not then give me the lamb. We have had to walk out of restaurants, stores etc. just because we can't get a price and therefore can't decide; get frustrated and give up.

Enough digression, back to our day... We returned to our hotel in time for the rooftop tea and cake, a complementary nightly ritual we have enjoyed since our arrival in Luxor. Oasis Hotel! We will definitely recommend to others looking for a budget hotel in Luxor. Nice staff, good rates and clean!

The next day John and Mhari read, researched accommodations in Greece and did some spelling, while Sam and I rented bikes and explored. We took our bikes across the Nile on the ferry and enjoyed the breeze in our hair (yes, no helmets) and the freedom of the open road. We returned to the Colossi of Memnon as Sam knew that there would be headscarves for sale there. We turned up some alleys by a canal and ventured down one to a “Nubian village” where we were invited to tea with a local. He served us a taste of home made cheese, foul, egg and we drank shai. We met his family, wife included, and got a tour of his house.  Our host revealed that he is a Feluca Captain and he wanted to be sure we called him if we wanted to go sailing on the river. However it wasn't a hard sell. We planned to do a Feluca trip from Aswan so did not meet again.

Being on the bikes was great. In the fields and lanes, Egypt (Africa) resembles India. I particularly enjoyed taking pictures of the donkey carts and their drivers; I don't know why.
 {I have tried to load the pictures a few times but our internet connection here isn't quick enough.  I suppose you will all have to wait a while for pics, sorry}

Later that evening, John and I went to the railway station and bought tickets to Aswan; which was an interesting transaction!  We informed ourselves about prices and learned that the first class ticket was equivalent to an extra dollar each in fare. So we ordered 4 first class tickets. The clerk wanted 164 LE not the 124 LE we anticipated, so we questioned it. Well, there had been a fare increase and we didn't want to pay 164 LE so we apologized and ordered 4 second class tickets. The clerk went on to tell us that it was only 40 LE more and that we could just pay it. He wouldn't budge, even after we explained that the tourist office next door had quoted the wrong price and that 164 LE was beyond our budget. Blah, blah, blah. We took action with our feet and walked out. We hadn't yet paid and he wasn't budging so without another word we hoofed it. Bye Bye! Ten minutes later after our little pow wow, we returned and luck was on our side: our clerk had just left on a break so we purchased our second class tickets without hassle from the next window.

Two days later, in Aswan, we took action again with our feet. The fruit seller wanted 5 LE for a single guava! We tried to reason with the fellow but he must have seen nothing but the big dollar sign painted across our foreheads. Without bothering to argue we walked away. But at supper the other day when the man quoted 8LE for a schwarma and Mhari was hungry enough to make us just decide to pay the inflated tourist price at the local cheap diner we ordered it anyway. When he brought it round I took one look at the half schwarma and cried -? That's 8 LE? with such a look of shock that he reconsidered , fetched another, and blamed it on the cook -who can't speak English. Can't speak English - My arse! Doubling the price is one thing, doubling it again is just really bad for business because I would have had the whole family get up and leave with a big loud fuss and half eaten food on the table.

Times are tough in Egypt right now. There are not many tourists here and so many locals rely on tourist dollars to feed their families. (In my opinion, even with a full quota of tourists, too many locals rely on tourists for their survival; they don't have quotas or licencing etc, any Mamoud, Mohammed, or Achmed can set himself up as a Feluca driver, tout or souvenir seller.). It is so obvious from our dealings with people that despite being lovely and friendly and welcoming they cannot see a foreigner as anything but a meal ticket for their family's survival. It is sad. One wants to help but as an individual travelling around one can't change the situation just by giving baksheesh

Today we paid 100 LE for a meal that at tourist prices should have cost 50 but even less for a local. The fellow went on about how the salad was a “cadeau”. The dipping sauce for the bread another “cadeau” Not!(-he was just building things up for good baksheesh) The salad is always included in the meal price when ordering the half chicken (which we know from experience and because he explained that to us when we asked about the food). To boot, the half chicken was not a half chicken, but a leg with a small bit of thigh, much less than we have had previously for half the price.

However, times are tough for these people so one has to forgive desperate attempts. There are a few notable exceptions; one, coming soon, in a tale experienced, but yet to be recounted.