March 6, 2008: Luxor, Egypt

Aswan proved to be a good warmup for the full onslaught of tourists that inhabit Luxor. I was ready to join in and let myself get swept up in the tide of sightseeing, however, I wasn't ready for locals offering me cocaine as I walked down the street in search of bread. You know you are in Tourist Central when a man riding by on a bicycle offers you cocaine, then tells you to "Go to Hell" in an affronted manner when you refuse his offer. Considering the number of other more forceful words he might have chosen to use, I found the entire encounter rather polite, not to mention amusing, which, I suppose, are normal reactions after travelling for eight months and being hasseled to buy everything from pens to prostitutes.

Illicit substances aside, Luxor is not Tourist Central without reason -- a number of extraordinary temples are in the area, both the Valley of Kings and Valley of Queens are across the river, and, perhaps most importantly, nobody can get from Aswan to Cairo in one day because you have to have a police escort and they are only available at specific times. Tour busses, private cars, motorcycles, etc all form an orderly convoy with one police car at the front and one at the back, proceeding in an organized fashion through Aswan until the city limits at which point the whole thing falls immediately apart when the cops push the nitro button and are suddenly going mach 3 down the highway. Now BiRT is not without a certain amount of speed, and Henry has no trouble putting the pedal to the metal, but the convoy was going so fast that we were left in the dust and actually missed the approved piss stop because we were going too slowly. Yes, there are scheduled piss stops and by the time we arrived at the only one between Aswan and Luxor, everyone had already left and the cops honked at us to keep going.

And so, bladders bursting, we arrived in Luxor to begin our sightseeing binge. That afternoon we went to Karnak temple which is quite spectacular. It is difficult to do justice to the size and scale of the buildings, and I found myself simply taking pictures of the strong architectural lines. Successive kings and queens kept adding to the complex and what tourists see today is only a relatively small portion of the structure as it would have existed all those centuries ago. Given its current awe-inspiring state, I can only imagine what it must have been like for some Egyptian peasant from the countryside to see it for the first time gleaming in the sun centuries ago. Much of the area is reconstructed, with pieces of the original statues and stonework and hieroglyphics incorporated into their rightful spaces. I have no idea how many archeologists are dedicated to working at Karnak, but it must be the world's largest jigsaw puzzle. There are a mind-boggling number of stones of all sizes scattered about the site waiting to be fit into their original spaces and I doubt anyone is able to provide a decent guesstimate of when the entire reconstruction might be complete.

Tourists entering the main part of the temple:

The shadows on the obelisks were amazing:I thought the shadow looked like those cartoon dog pharoahs and looked pretty cool:Statue of Tutenkahmen:Shots from the reconstructed reflecting pool of the main part of the temple:Reconstruction will continue for years and years:The columns were amazing and huge. Something like 134 filled one space in the temple: Juliet drawing in one of the side pathways:Her subject:
The next day we decided to head across the river and check out the Valley of the Kings. Because of all the tomb raiding that was happening at the pyramids in Giza, Egyptian kings started building their tombs into the ground in one special valley, the whereabouts of which was known to a very select group of people and passed down from king to king. More than 60 tombs have been discovered to date and archeologists continue to search for additional tombs. I would have spent the entire day there, except for the fact that a ticket allowed me entrance to only three tombs (!) and it was extra to enter popular tombs such as Tutenkamen. They could make much more money if they charged a nominal fee for each tomb and that would likely keep more people there who would get hungry and thirsty and order from the overpriced cafe. Anyway, the three tombs we saw were really fantastic and the site is definitely worth a visit.

The valley is rather unassuming:Each unearthed tomb is marked by a small, unobtrusive entryway:We weren't supposed to take pictures, but this is the backside of Phil descending into one of the tombs:Paintings in one of the tombs (shot from the hip in an attempt not to attract the attention of the guard):
Not so the tomb of Hatshepsut, however, unless you find tourist watching to be an amusing hobby. There is way too much reconstruction, although the few paintings there are quite nice. I suppose that is the most one can expect after centuries of looting and uninvited guests like armies from the Crusades camping out under the stairwell.

Tourists flocking to the tomb:The cave openings mark the tombs of relatives:The paintings were pretty well preserved in some areas:

March 4, 2008: Aswan, Egypt

Our arrival into Egypt was marred by tourists. We had seen few tourists over the past several months, let alone entire herds of them, and suddenly came face to face with masses of blindingly white (even I looked tan next to them) people lumbering onto and off of air-conditioned tour busses or one of the 500 enormous river boats that ply the Nile between Aswan and Cairo. And the smell! Shampoos and bodywashes and perfumes and insect repellent all mixed together in a shockingly sweet scent that enveloped the hordes in cloying clouds. We had stopped using deodorant within minutes of clambering on BiRT, of course, a fact that led us to wonder what we smelled like to them. But it was a passing curiousity of a thought, really. Our stained, torn, and faded clothes were clearly not items that any self-respecting tourist on a package holiday would put in their luggage, let alone even have in a musty box in an attic, so there was no use blending in. Besides, why would we want to blend in? Our ratty clothes, greasy hair, and undoubtedly ripe smell were badges of honor. At least that's what we tried to tell ourselves as we self-conciously adjusted our clothes and discreetly sniffed our armpits.


I would be lying, however, if I didn't admit to enjoying the contrast. In a bit of travel snobbery, I felt as though my tattered person marked me as someone who had really been travelling and was rather proud of my lack of hygiene. Or perhaps that leap of logic was some type of psychological self-defense mechanism... At any rate, it was true culture shock.

Especially when a large group of tourists showed up at our campsite one night.

The entrance to Adams Home Camp:Inside the compound:Sunrise:Gecko!:
The women were appalled that we didn't shower daily and that some of us didn't own shampoo (no surprise I fall into that category). Their sense of humor was socially approved in that it was insipid, pack-like, and safe. Granted, our sense of humor was lucky to rise above the potty level, but how is a game of slap the live croc not amusing?

Or three really ugly women? L to R: Lorenzo, Danny, me:
I couldn't deal with it and went into a corner to drink my beer. Nobody from Hot Rock managed to have even a marginally interesting conversation with the well-scrubbed tourists and we retreated back to our own groups like enormous magnets, mutually repelled. Was this going to be the real world? Dear God help me if it is.

That being said, how did we wind up spending our time in Aswan while waiting for BiRT to clear customs? By being tourists, of course. There was great food to eat,

Danny and Phil dig in:camels to ride, Classic lone camel rider:

and faluccas to sail up and down the Nile on. It was time to put the tourist hat on, albeit a rather crusty and dirt-stained one.

First up, camels. Danny, Juliet, Mike, Phil, and I decided we might as well take advantage of the copious number of camel touts around and go for a two-hour ride that would take us to a monastery

and an obelisk. Riding a camel is absolutely hilarious. Coming from a horseback riding background, I wasn't quite sure what to expect when I threw my leg over the saddle, but it definitely was not being pitched forward, then back, then forward again as the camel stood up off the ground. It was like a massive horse bucking in slow motion and I couldn't stop laughing.

Camels rock:

Once up and after much giggling, the camel riders threw us the "reins" -- a single rope -- and we moseyed off, swaying and rocking with the motion of the camel while the camel riders walked behind us smoking and talking amongst themselves without giving any of us any instruction on riding the beasts beneath us.

Mike leading the pack at a fast-paced plod:

Just when we were getting the hang of it, the riders stopped us and clambered on so that we were riding double. And it is just next to impossible to keep from banging into the rider in front of you repeatedly when the camel stands or kneels down. I had plenty of practice because my camel rider kept losing his sandals and had to repeatedly stop our camel and dismount in order to retrieve his footwear. That was fun and all for the first few times, but by the time he flipped his sandal off for the 6th or 7th time I really wanted tell him to buy something with velcro. Regardless, it was a blast and I highly recommend jumping on a camel if the opportunity arises.

Where the town ends and the sand begins:Camel rider and ruins in foreground, Aswan across the Nile:Nearing the monastery:Looking like a camel convention outside the monastery:In true Hot Rock fashion we didn't want to pay the entrance fee and wandered around the outside of the monastery which was much more entertaining -- especially when the guard with the gun took a shine to Juliet:Tourists leaving the monastery:L to R: Phil, Omar, Juliet, camel guy, me, Mike:Heading back:

After the camel ride, we went on a falucca for 5 or 6 hours, cruising along the Nile.

Danny watches for crocs off the bow:

It was a fantastic way to spend the afternoon, tacking our way through the hundreds of other faluccas and boats crammed onto the river. We ate, dozed, jumped into the river,

Tom somersaults in:Mike psyches himself up:And jumps!:

and created the typical Hot Rock spectacle.

Captain Cheese at your service:Mike gives the faraway sailor stare:How is it that we are not more tan (excluding Danny, who tans without trying)? L to R: Phil, Tom, Danny, Duncan, me, Mike; Front: Lianna, Lorenzo

It wasn't so bad being a tourist, after all.