Egypt: Aswan to Luxor
Dear All
There is a reason why the Egyptians call Cairo "Egypt". It seems like the entire economy is there as much as the entire culture. Thew cities I have been to are dominated by the tourist industry and if something were to happen to the monuments that surround these place, the city would evaporate into the arid hot sky. Both Aswan and Luxor are significantly different for the character and feel of the metropolis of Cairo and I have met nothing but hate and disgust here. As a result of these last few days, I vow never to return to Egypt again.
I needed to get out of Aswan as I exhausted all the entertainment options. There are two ways to do it. First involves taking a train that chugs next to the Nile River and in three hours you can be settled nicely in the tomb and ruin overdose city of Luxor. A one hour trip takes you to Kom Ombo where there is another temple or the two hour trip to the temple of Edfu. So the options on the fellucia (boat) are given as follows:
Two days, one night to Kom Ombo
Three days, two nights to Edfu or
Four days, three nights to Luxor.
A fellucia is a small sailboat with a large bed mattress as the main deck. It can hold eight to ten passengers and a small crew of two Nubian sailors. The price is a function of the time you travel. I can't say that it is a function of the distance because if it was, I would have gotten to my chosen destination but I didn't. I chose to go to Kom Ombo. I remember the silence forced vipassana I went through travelling for four nights from Katmandu to Lhasa with people who wouldn't converse, contribute or even look at me for the duration of the altitude torture trip. I didn't want to be forced to be on a boat longer than I had too in case the people on the boat were unbearable but I still wanted to be on the Nile, cruising slowly down and enjoying the silence, the scenery and the sounds of the poison, polluted Egyptian waterway. I didn't think it was possible for things to go wrong in such a short period of time.
Food is included in the price as is the police certification (5 EP). There are a herd of fellucia sailors sitting on the edge of the boulevard that touches the riverside dock which is parallel to the main road. It is impossible to pass this pack of animals without being asked over and over "Fellucia today?" This kind of touting isn't new to me. Rickshaws, long-boat drivers, sherpas, tour guides, Indian puja priests, Angkor Wat tuk tuks all have the same system but, like with all of them, the choice is endless and negotiation hard. I decided, since I wanted a stress free Egypt, to leave it to the hands of my hotel owner and, though I may be paying too much for the trip (40 EP is actually the right number and a fair price) I couldn't be bothered to deal with it myself. As well, you need to fill a boat with eight people and being only two, Mina, a sweet hearted Japanese girl, and myself, I figured I would leave the rest of that mission to the hotel. My biggest mistake, though thinking back I am not sure if it would have made any difference, was not getting anything on paper. I couldn't be bothered to deal with all the red tape of this and, anyways, how could it go wrong? If it takes one hour by train to Kom Ombo then how could a fellucia any longer than one day? I was expecting less than more on the boat. I was expecting to be picked up at 9am, sailing by 10am and docked by 6pm - eight hours on the boat - then right after breakfast the next day we would be right beside the Kom Ombo. Funny how things turn out.
The fellucia started to board around 11am. The crew, two Nubian men who use cute pseudo names as one minor means of entertaining the guests. Ours were called Captain Cook and, er, well, I didn't get the others name but his first words came out like a machine gun and incomprehensible. His brow clenched and shouted angrily orders at us to confirm our tour plans. All I heard when he pointed an assault of directions at me was "You pay one night, two days, yes!" and I shook my head. Again, I wasn't going to let the locals get to me the way that they did in India so a simple, non-confrontational nod was all I gave. It was only at 1pm did we actually set off. Fine, I told myself, the next five hours and the night is all I need. The problem began when we discovered the itineraries of everyone on board. Mina and I, along with two Czechs, Pavla and Marek, had taken the one night option to Kom Ombo. Klaus, a Spaniard with a German name, though told and paid for the two night option to Edfu, discovered on his receipt that he was actually only going to Kom Ombo for two nights and then a car was to pick him up and take him to Edfu and then Luxor. The last two were two Aussie girls on a pre-package trip paid for from start to finish in Cairo. They were given the same deal as Klaus but this is what they were expecting and promised. These girls were also the biggest contributor to the shit I went through on the boat. Replace Canadians in Tibet with Aussies in Egypt and replace silence with aggressive confrontation and that was my ride through the Nile.
If you haven't picked up on the problem with the itineraries yet, I will lay it out clearer for you. How is it possible to take some of us in one night to Kom Ombo and another group of people to the same place but in twice as long? Answer: compromise the one day-ers and treat them as second class. Once sailing, the Nubians told us we were going to be dropped off at Daraw, a blank empty waste town some 10 kilometres from our destination and from there we would be picked up by a taxi to Kom Ombo - at our expense. The Czechs and I argued furiously over the destination drop off. The sailors told us that it is impossible to do this trip in one day and two days are needed. This is another feature of Egyptian behaviour that I have found over and over and learnt to loathe. It is actually a common feature all over Asia - making the problem the customers fault instead of being apologetic over the mistake and trying to compromise and compensate. Often, when ordering food in a restaurant in India and the order was wrong, the waiter would claim that this mistake was in our ordering making it our fault. It is this kind of lack of business sense that sets these countries back and makes tourist never want to return and it was this topic that starting the internal feuding.
I began the conversation with the two Aussie girls on how unbelievably bad business sense the locals of many countries had and if they just used their heads a little, set up proper document systems and followed some sort of standard protocol, they would actually make more money and all live a better life. They rebuttaled with lines like "you cannot expect this place to be like the West and if you want that kind of quality you shouldn't leave home" as well as "if you don't get what you want then you should just accept it and laugh it off". I didn't disagree with either of their arguments. Many tours I've been on have been filled with blank promises and misleading information and it becomes funny afterwards at how stupid the whole thing is. I don't expect the best or things to work out perfectly but I do expect to get what I have been told. These girls claim that I didn't ask enough questions and get the right information at the time. I told them that all I wanted was what I was promised - to be dropped off at Kom Ombo. I have also learnt not to let the locals roll over you and let them have their way so fighting with them is the only thing you can do if they try to scam you, as with this. Telling me that it is impossible to make it to Kom Ombo in one day is a straight out lie but to the girls who seem anaesthetized to the world, it was real and true. I let it go and we did our best to talk like grown ups for a while.
The next few hours were a blissful blend of contemplation, still flowing dark waters, small villages linings a lush green riverbank, sand dunes, mud houses and an agricultural backbone. The silence and serenity of the Nile ride for the next few hours brought my boiling blood back to a gentle simmer. It is exactly what I needed to do after dealing with days of mouthy locals and the fellucia fighting. We ate fresh salad and koshery for dinner, delicious even though the vegetables were washed in Nile water - known to poisonous with tiny microscopic snails. We slugged along the Nile tacking sharply and crossing from one bank to the other. They needed to take up as much time to get to Kom Ombo as possible and this was the best system. At this point, I didn't care. I was just enjoying the ride until we docked for dinner. The sun set sharply leaving only a small smear of red to remind us of the day past, the night sky open and the air was thick and warm like sleeping under a down blanket. I went to sleep last. I spent some time listening to my new CD player, enjoying the solitude and watching random small boats dock next to us and stealthily hiding contraband something somewhere in the field. They would wave to me as they passed knowing I knew nothing of this night time game they played. I smiled and waved back in reciprocal kindness.
I forgot how cold deserts are at night. Without a cloud cover, the heat escapes into the upper atmosphere leaving the ground temperature chilly. Most of us woke during the night to dress again, find warmth and a new dream. I couldn't sleep with all that energy in the boat and tension in the air so I found myself fully awake again, first in the group and sitting up waiting for the sunrise. The sunrise was disappointing but maybe that was a warning of things to come.
Breakfast included a simple layout of boiled eggs, triangle cheese and Egyptian bread and, as throughout the previous day, black tea. This morning I offered my Laos coffee to anyone who wanted it and some people took it though it was prepared too thick by the fellucia guys who know nothing about making coffee. In fact, Egyptians don't drink coffee even though there are many shops with the title "Coffee Shop". Breakfast came late at around 10am. Of course, if you're going to make a one day trip into two days, you're going to need to procrastinate heavily. Once the morning day heat started in, the fighting began again. Fellucia guys told us they would drop us off in the middle of nowhere, even earlier than Daraw, and hail us a taxi to take us to Kom Ombo right after breakfast. Pavla and I refused indicating that we didn't pay to be dropped off anywhere else but Kom Ombo. This lead to us continuing down the Nile some more with disgruntled Fellucia men snarling at us and refusing to join in the talks. Then the two Aussie girls who considered me unappreciative and arrogant when I told them I wouldn't tip them even though they had offered us a free lunch when they didn't have to. In my defence, I didn't ask for the lunch nor should I have had to be on the fellucia during this time. I refuse to reward incompetence or deceit. Finally, Mina decided that she had enough and told me we should get off in Daraw, finishing this trip 10km from our actual promised destination. She couldn't wait another day. We docked and fought some more. I left giving the Aussies the last word - "Thanks for ruining what could have been a wonderful trip if you hadn't decided to involve yourselves in a problem that wasn't yours!" Childish, I realize but it was satisfyingly delicious.
Mina and I were soon joined by Pavla and Marek who decided the tension on the boat wasn't worth it. The biggest slap to the face is that we weren't even in Daraw. We were 3 km from Daraw and the shared taxi would cost us 5 EP each. Without strength anymore to fight, I gave into my slippery wallet fingers and agreed. I just wanted to get to Luxor. On the way, Pavla noticed a sign to Kom Ombo Temple and so we diverted to the place where we should have been dropped off.
The interesting thing about Kom Ombo Temple isn't the temple itself. In fact, it is very similar to many other temples I have seen here. The interesting thing are the tourist and where they come from. In my last newsletter, I wrote that Aswan was an empty city yet the tourist sites were full so how can the city be packed with people when the streets are vacant? The answer is at the shoreline. Cruise liner after cruise liner parked on the shores of Nile. We counted 24, three story cruise ship full of package tourists. This is why it is so difficult for the individual tourist to get any information here. Most people book a package tour before arriving and are spoon fed Egypt. People hare shuffled in small herds to their destination with their second language fluent Egyptian of choice to tour them through the sites and deal with their problems. Maybe this is the best way to see Egypt stress free.
A long wait at the train station, , 24 EP and some more screaming Nubians later, and in the still of the 7pm darkness, we were in Luxor - a thriving living town though still sharing the same open brick wall infrastructure and run down look. The train station is filled with touts and one approached me asking where I was going and if I had a hotel. I replied that I had a hotel but, in a polite tone, I told him what I tell all the touts - I don't tell strangers where I sleep. He replied by saying that maybe he would come and kill me in my sleep and I said nothing. When he asked me if I was going to the Oasis Hotel, again, I said nothing. Then, a man claiming to be the manager of the Oasis appeared and we approvingly followed him. He was the manager and gave us his price instantly, 6 EP per person per night or 1 USD. Great. When the tout heard that we were going to the hotel where he had suggested, started to shout obscenities directed at me including one that starts with the word "mother" and ends with sound "ucker". The manager subdued him and he huffed off but this little trigger set me off again and the stress levels that were once at 10 had reached a new high of 12. I decided that tomorrow would be a day off from stress, a day to decompress and a day free from sightseeing.
The next morning, Mina met a friend and decided to move to his guest house. I had left earlier that morning to work on the Internet for a few hours so that they could reunite. I grabbed my bag with my digital camera, notebook and lonely planet in it. I returned to find Mina waiting for me outside and we talked to arrange time to meet later that day. I decided that my room was the best place to decompress and music was the best place way to do it. I had just bought a new CD player in Bangkok before leaving and was eager to listen to it but wait. Where is it? I had left it on the table. On the table in plain view from the door window. Shit! It's stolen! I immediately found Mina and her friend and confronted them on the situation but both claimed not to have it. Why would two Japanese people steal electronics. It's like an Eskimo stealing snow. Mina told me that she moved out and gave the key to reception then returned later when she had forgotten her towel and discovered the CD Player stolen (put stress levels to 16 here.) It must be the staff.
I came to reception to find no one there but a sleeping boy who wouldn't wake. I would need to wait for the manager to come but by then the CD player would be long gone. An hour later, a staff member came and I told him and the manager was called. He seemed panicked and for good reason.
A few years ago in Egypt several tourist were killed and tourism dropped. Tourism is Egypt's number one industry so foreigners are well protected here, often escorted or convoyed around for their protection and without the need for a bribe or baksheesh as its called here. Luxor itself is 75% tourist oriented and almost 100% of its economy is based in tourism. In this case, a complaint to the police by a foreigner can put the entire staff in prison for a night or two, they could lose their business and their reputation around the city would be forever tarnished. The owner was stumbling over his words and began with the typical Egyptian excuses of "Mina will be the one who will suffer" or "you won't get the paper you need". This paper was a police report for a stolen item for a fictional insurance policy I told them I had. They told me that none of the staff did it but I told them otherwise. Mina pulled me aside and dropped a moral bombshell on me.
She reiterated the two days in prison story and pleaded with me to give them a day to look for it. She felt partially responsible for the loss and wanted to give them a chance. I don't like punishing innocent people but with the way I have been treated by these people and the lies I have been given I didn't want to but I did. Mina's innocent look crumbled this old man's wall down and left me defenceless. I gave them their 24 hours to come up with a solution or a go to the tourist police. They thanked me heavily and served me tea.
Though I don't like to reward being directly lied to and cheated, I felt that these men in front of me were innocent and I could destroy lives that didn't deserved to be punished so severely even though the management represents the staff and should take responsibility for their actions. In Egypt, no one want to take responsibility when something goes wrong. Like with the fellucia men, they make the fault yours instead if theirs. This is shameless disgusting behaviour I have come to loathe in many third world cultures such as Thailand and India.
This is also the only country I have been to where I have been overcharged for food. I understand the classic triple "tourist price" when it comes to souvenirs but I have to haggle constantly to get a price for food such as tea or shai as it's called here. I know it should cost me half a pound per glass but they often charge be 1.50 pound even though I know the price. You learn the value of everything in Cairo. Haggling for food can make you exhausted quickly as you know that you cannot go a day without fighting so I often ate at places where I knew the price from previous experience. With the exception of Cairo and Dahab, a tourist black hole, there are no menus at the cheap restaurant level. Even so, this is the only country where I get overcharged for food. In India even if I got overcharged for food the difference was negligible. Here the triple pricing means something and can cost you a lot. So much for my theory on the Egyptians only overcharge a little. Seems that this is left to Cairo and everywhere else just exploits their most important resource - tourism. If the government regulated the system, everyone would benefit (ie have menus in the restaurants).
The anger that pumped adrenaline through my veins was also eating away at my soul. Why couldn't I have a day's peace from the stress of this place. Why was I being the victim in all of this? I slept telling myself to forget the USD30 loss as superficial and enjoy the next day of sightseeing.
The next morning, after a breakfast of shakshuka, fried aubergines and falafel with pita bread, I made my way down to the Karnak Temple, a beautiful large white stone array of ruins, and the mummification museum, a small museum depicting the system used in mummification and the small farm of animals that the Egyptians had mummified such as cats and alligators.
On the way back from the Karnak Temple and to the Mummification museum, I got a ride with a Scottish couple who offered me a ride in their horse drawn buggy that they had rented for the day. When I arrived at the museum, I offered the driver, an arrogant super talker, a small amount of money as a symbol of my gratitude. He responded that my offering was an insult "This is nothing!" he said "I do this for my brother (ie the Scottish Man). I do not want your money!" I took the money back, thanked the couple and walked off. Why couldn't he have just been thankful and humble for the generosity I was giving him (though small)? Ungrateful bastard.
I returned home, disgusted and disillusioned, where the management staff were waiting for me and shaking a little with the power I had over them. Instantly, the owner offered me 150 EP for the CD player. It is worth 200 to 250 but 150 seemed like a reasonable compromise for a used, two week old CD player and anyways, the symbol of it, if not for accepting a bribe, seemed valid enough. He was taking responsibility for the actions of his staff and taking a loss which would eventually spill over onto the criminal. I took the 150 and felt somewhat cathartic. I relieved at the end of disaster and the start of clean-up like after a tornado has crushed through a trailer park. To celebrate, we drank tea.
After the unofficial tea celebrations, Mina and I had official celebrations and ate the local elegant dinery- we ate pigeon. Pigeon is a meatless bird eaten often by the locals yet none of them ever ate it in the restaurants. It was served with head and all, one grilled and the other stuffed with rice and on a bed of salad. It was terribly unenjoyable, difficult to consume and unpalatable as we needed to eat the bones as well - a function I am incapable of managing. It was an unsatisfying dinner that resonated the effect of the previous three days.
The next day, Mina, Pavla, Marek and myself set off to do Luxor's West Bank. This is the monument rich side. There are tomb areas called Valley of the Kings, Queens, Nobles etc.. and some temples as well. We arrived to the bank at 6am to beat the burning hot noon day sun. The days in Luxor are unbearable. I appreciate the dry heat but at 50 degrees it is too much. The morning, like that on the fellucia, was a sweet thick warmth that cradles you like an embryo in a womb. We drove into the darkness and way from the sunrise, past the white rock mountainous desert landscape to the Valley of the Kings.
As Mina and I waited while Marek and Pavla went to the Temple of Ay, I began to daydream of the Burningman Festival and realized that I was there somewhat. Well, at least I was in a desert. The festival is happening right now and I am missing it. Did I make the right decision?
As the sun rose the mountains made of crumbling white stone changed colour like that at Ayers but by the light of the open sun the glare off the rocks were mirror like and dangerously bright and hot. The barren landscape made this place a perfect burial ground for the kings and queens of ancient Egypt and soon we were off to the front gate of the Valley of the Kings.
Again, there were more Spaniards, French and Italians here than in all of Western Europe and I began to wonder if anybody works during this time of year in their respective countries. They all seem to be here. The ticket to the Valley of the Kings gives you access to three tombs of which around 15 are available. Without any help, I chose the three recommended by the Lonely Planet but soon discovered how boring all the tombs are - for those with an uneducated eye. For me, I knew that I was going to this to appreciate the tombs as art and not as history but I was soon disappointed. The tombs share nothing of the scary bobby trapped Indiana Jones style that I was expecting and for a culture that created such great structures like the Pyramids it is amazing that they couldn't draw in three dimensions.
All three tombs were a unremarkably similar. Ramses I, III and V&VI tombs had a similar feel. One long rectangular tunnel, maybe with some side tunnels or a few tubular pillars, and hieroglyphics painted on the walls with some ornamental side-on human or ancient Egyptian god on them. I found the tombs to be quite boring with no interesting architecture and paintings that look fake. I left the Valley of the Kings for the Temple of Hatscheput.
For those interested, even though I have a fake student card to get into Tutankhamen's Tomb at a discounted price, I chose against it as I heard it was very dull as well. Word of mouth is the best advice you can use while travelling.
Hatchesput temple was a simple stone pillar reconstructed ruin that sits adjacent to a sheer rock cliff. The long staircase lead up to a tiny insignificant room filled with nothing. The sun was high in the sky burning a hole through my head and the emptiness from the little food I had to eat was digging an ulcer into my stomach. As predicted, by 11am I was exhausted, and clearly disappointed at what Luxor, the capital of the Ancient Egyptian world, had to offer. Many other places I had been to in this country have had much more magnificent ruins.
The valley of the Queens was just a simpler, smaller version of the Valley of the Kings and not worth the extra effort unless you want to be somewhere the Europeans are not.
Tired, Mina and I made our way back by common shared taxi, ferry and then got lost trying to find and return home from the bus station where we bought tickets for Dahab (115 EP). The day's heat, the constant harassment from the locals during this low season and the exhaustion from the day sightseeing made me edgy and irritable. Luckily, Mina's kind patience and pleasant tone soothed this savage beast and I slumbered the day away eagerly looking for time to Dahab and a little seclusion from the real world.
For those reading this that have met me in Egypt, you'll wonder why my name come up as Oren and not Ren like I have told you. Oren is a very Israeli name and I am practising hiding my ethnicity while I am in these Arabic countries. I am not afraid, just precaution. It's just easier this way.
Also, anyone getting a fake ISIC card from Bangkok should take good care of it. Mine has some lettering smudging (I now go to "Ottawa Univers" and not Ottawa University) and the picture is fading and becoming hazy. I just say that it went through the wash. So far, no body cares.
I am currently doing my best to relax in the tourist hole of Dahab in the Sinai peninsula. I head to Mt Sinai tonight then, er, somewhere else in Sinai just to see the place and then back to Cairo where I will book the remainder of my open flight ticket to Beirut.
Be well
Oren Jalon (aka Ren)
This message is brought to you by Canada Dry. Each time someone asks me where I am from , I reply "Canada" and they return "Canada Dry - NEVER DIE!". I still haven't found any Canada Dry in any shops here.
