sitting on a small 25-seater bus rolling under the Suez Canal and i'm finally starting to see clearly again. a minute or so in the tunnel and we're back out in the sunshine and into Sinai which is the (comparatively) little chunk of Egypt that connects to the Middle East. it's around 550km and 7 hours drive in total, and in another couple of hours we'll climb over a mountain pass and come in view of 4 countries: Israel to the north, Jordan to the east, Saudi Arabia south-east and of course Egypt under our feet.
two days ago i was being woken up at 4AM and ushered out of the hotel under cover of darkness. a short boat-ride across the Nile in the cold of morning where joyously i was provided with coffee, and as the sky began to lighten the pilot kicked off the burners and the hot air balloon i was standing in began to rise off the dusty ground, in time to get a hundred or so metres altitude before the sun crested the horizon through the smoke of the fires along the west-bank. we're not up for long, but it's long enough to see the sun rise and brighten the dawn into day. not to high, but high enough to see the beige desert become lush green become cool water become brown city become beige desert again. my brain's dribbling out my ears and my camera's strapped securely to my wrist, rattling off photos of anything, everything. i needed to be sleeping now, but wild horses couldn't have kept me from this. after almost drifting into the river we land in an angry farmer's paddock. i understand about 5 phrases in Arabic, all of which are friendly, and he wasn't using any of them. we seem to have come down in his garlic patch. bugger. we've been back on earth for all of 5 minutes, our pilot calling in an evac on his 2-way, burning gas to stop the balloon from draping any more on the plam tree we've landed in/next to, and the kids of the village think this is the most awesome thing they've ever seen since Achmed fell off his camel and into the dungheap. they're practicing their english on us, and at the age of 6 or so they already understand the concept of "you take a photo of me, you give me money" which the older English gent with a shitty Minolta faux-SLR finds out to his disgust.
the rescue crew shows up, running through the fields like a soccer team coming out to play and i can't help but laugh. soccer's big here. turn on the TV, and you're guaranteed to find a game on at least one channel, i've been told. i don't want to know what'd happen if the call to prayer came out in the middle of the final, but i can imagine people tearing themselves in half out of indecision.
the balloon's salvaged, the farmer's paid or fobbed off, we're on a bus down the road and meeting up with the rest of the crew for today's big activity. back at the beginning we rode camels for 15 minutes. today we're touring 2 different sites on the backs of donkeys (vegans, you can skip ahead a page or so now). donkeys are a major part of the regular Egyptian's life. bear in mind that much of Egypt is still peasant-class, and donkeys are strong, hardy animals you'll see them everywhere out in the country being put to all sorts of uses - pulling carts, tilling fields, carrying people where they need to go, eating grass and shitting cooking-fuel. you even see them in the cities, altough not as often. they're funny creatures to look at. a horse's head on a fat body and legs that look like they've been cut off short, dopy eyes with a resigned look and big bunny-ears flicking every which way. the donkey i've been assigned as a stocky little bastard and i decide that since we're going to be friends for something like 5 fucking hours i shall give him a name, and that name is Abdul. he's a strong little bastard. he's also a fucking sociopath. the only time he wants to move quicker than a stroll is when he's chasing another donkey. Abdul loves to bite ass (hee hee) and gets kicked in the face a few times for his troubles. he's not taking orders either (you say "yalla yalla" to go fast, say "hassssshhhhh" and pull the reigns back to go slow. Abdul mush have been asleep or got a sick-note for that day at donkey-school), so i generally let him do his thing unless he goes for humans. he likes Kim (Kiwi) and Angie (Aussie) for some reason and i manage to keep him clear most of the way to the Valley of the Kings. yeah, that's right. riding donkeys up the Valley of the Kings. i've got a grin on my face that threatens to unhinge the top-half of my head.
the Valley's like the Pyramids. you've heard of it unless the rock you're living under's particularly massive. Tutenkahmun's there, Ramses II, IV, VI and IX are all there. Seti I (father of Ramses II) has a tomb, and so do over 50 of their mates. it's just beyond the west bank of the river in a mountain range that looms out of place in a land of soil-erosion. the ancient egyptians believed in having their temples on the east bank to greet the sun and their tombs on the west bank to bid it farewell. it's dry, rocky and forbidding, but very well organised. of the 60 or so tombs discovered, there are generally 6 open to the public at any given time, plus King Tut's which carries an additional fee and has the man himself under glass and a modest cotton sheet with head and feet prodruding. no photos are allowed in the tombs in order to protect the fragile paint from harsh light and the revenue stream of the touts selling postcards out the front. walking through the corridors cut straight into the rock walls i can't help but think that if these guys didn't know how to live they sure as fuck knew how to die. while the relics have been stolen or shifted to the museums, you can see the ledges carved into the wall that have been painted with the icons that scream in any language "there was treasure here". the paintings are incredible - being sealed under rock and sand for thousands of years for the most part, and in the dry of a desert that sees rain maybe once or twice a year, they've been generally conserved in incredible conditio where Coptic refugees haven't hadn't taken up residence in the times of the Romans.
Louise, Mike and i run around doing our now usual thing until it's time to put more sun cream on and head for the donkeys again. it's hot but not stupid in the sun, pale desert and sandstone under our feet, blue sky above. it's not the cobalt-blue of home, but it's the clearest i've seen in six months. between the felucca and the temples my tan's coming back and my arms are going golden again. my vitamin D levels must be through the roof, but i really don't want to be burning so we're getting regular protection on. Louise is doing a good job of not going too red, but Mike didn't listen on the felucca and wound up copping a roasting - tomato face, raw shoulders, chest and back. i DID tell him so.
i can't find Abdul. where the fuck have you gone, you nasty little prick? wait... all the other donkeys have riders apart from that one with a black saddle who's trying to run off. i'll grab you one then. i shall call you Mohammed and sweet fuckery you do NOT like being behind anyone, do you? i seem to have nicked Mike's donkey - it was unintentional, i swear. i keep trying to slow him down so that i can be sociable, but he's charging ahead like nobody's business, and he knows the way. i'm rattling off more photos and manage to get a couple of good ones of Louise on her even-shorter-than-normal little steed. he's well behaved though, unlike Adbul the psycho or Mohammed the speed-freak. riding donkeys is fun, i have to say. ignore the sore groin and inside-leg, give your donkey a bit of free reign and you make a happy pair. i'm kinda digging the low carbon-footprint aspect of this part of the trip. there were a few teething problems at the start of course - mostly fecal related. an unfortunate aspect of the riding position is that if you're not careful your feet are right in the Dump Zone for any donkey in front and to either side. donkeys, like camels, will piss and shit whenever and wherever they want, including on the run. Bo and Megan both cop shoefulls. in open shoes. miles from running water. crap. thank fuck for jeans at Steel Blue boots...
an hour or so later we pull up at the Temple of Hapshetsut, one of Egypt's first ruling queens. she took the throne off her nephew Demoses III who may not may not have been a bit of a dingbat and ruled nicely for a while before he turned the tables, knocked her off and defaced her temple. it's built up the side of the Valley of the Queen and was been extensively rebuilt back in the 80's it's 3 levels, sloping back up the mountain and it's pretty much all pillars and statues. there's not much of it to see, but there are plenty of opportunities for photos. it's beautiful and incredible but i'm getting templed-out. ever since the Temple of Isis back near Aswan, and Abu Simbel out in the middle of fucking nowhere, i've been getting less and less out of them all, and we still haven't done Karnak yet.
back on the road and on Mohammed's back and the race is on. Jr (the most... effervescent of the americans) is riding side saddle and wants a race. Mohammed snorts and charges off leaving him in our dust. good Mohammed. yes, you may stop and eat some of that farmer's wheat. we've been riding through some incredible countryside - dusty, rocky desert baked by the sun, laughed at and photographed by tourists in their coaches, lush greenery with crops and palm trees, our donkeys grabbing quick bites to eat, main streets of villages, being waved and grinned at by the locals. Salaam allekum brother! Soobie tells us we're experiencing what the locals do every day. petrol's expensive but grass is cheap. beasts of burden are the tractor of choice for the peasant farmer. coaches and tour buses encapsulate you from the world around you and while i love air conditioning as much as anyone else for a couple of hours i'm swimming in it. rock up on a coach and the locals go "yeah, whatever, buy stuff." roll up with a sore arse and a shit-eating grin on a donkey and you're one of the boys (PS - "buy stuff").
it's time to say goodbye to Mohammed and cross back over to the east bank. i can see a bridge a kilometre or two down the river, but hopping a boat's quicker and an hour later we're at the Temple of Karnak with a stomach full of Maccas (it was quick and easy and we were short on time - that's my excuse and i'm sticking to it). it's the biggest of the temples in Egypt - 1.5 square kilometres of structures, pillars and rubble. there was a major earthquake a few hundred years ago which laid waste to a lot of these temples. Karnak was inhabited by a tribe of miscreants a millenia or so ago and when they finally got moved along they opened the retaining wall and flooded the entire thing with water from the Nile. by the time the damage was complete there were barely two stones standing one atop the other and since then it's been rebuilt and restored as best they could. it goes on and on, fields of massive pillars open into courtyards which lead through arches into open areas into closes and more courtyards. there's no time to explore the whole thing. factor half a day minimum if you want to eyeball every stone and carving in the place. for hundreds of years every king who came to power added to it, expanding, installing their own monuments, statues and halls. a single-minded intent to not just maintain but improve. Ramses II and III played parts in its construction and it's that sort of fame that makes the tour. Louise and i are shattered and wind up just wandering semi-randomly through as much of it as we can before sheltering in the cool and quiet of Ramses III's hall of pillars. it's peaceful and quiet and solemnly mind-melting. we've been moving pretty much constantly for 12 hours now and it's starting to bite. Karnak's the last temple on the tour and i'm as relieved as i am disappointed. i want to see more, but my brain can't process it.
getting back to the hotel we have 4 or so hours to shower, repack and find some food before we're moving on again on the night train back to Cairo. a hot shower helps to restore my sanity a little, and i finish posting my pre-written entries downstairs and editing out some glaring mistakes i'd made the day before. due to the lack of available (by which i mean free) internet i've been writing as i have the time. 8400 words have just been broadcasted to the ether which is immensely satisfying and terrifying at the same time.
there's a storm brewing between me and Louise and the first lightning strikes while we're sitting in an Egyptian takeaway. nerves have been raw since the first night on the felucca and the constant lack of sleep has helped not a jot. we've both got issues with the other and while nothing's said, we both know that the moment we have some time alone it's going to be on for young and old. my food's out fairly quickly all told, but hers is still in limbo by the time i'm finished mine. we get it to go and while walking back to the hotel i finally tear into a peddler who didn't take us ignoring him as a signal to leave us alone and is chasing us down the road waving a shirt at us. i've bad a gut full - of sleep deprivation, of questionable food, of buying litre after litre of water because you can't drink from the tap, of feeling like shit but still trying to smile, of never having a moment to myself, of being chased down the road by fucking peddlers and the look of terror and shock on his face when i looked over my shoulder and said mate, FUCK OFF! almost made it worth it.
things are icy all the way to the train and the moment it starts moving i grab my shoulder bag and set up my Eee in the bar carriage, beg the bartender to let me stay there without buying a drink and try to do some writing. Derek joins me and we start to have a chat when Louise shows up all smiles with her bottle of vodka stowed in her sleeping bag-bag and in a moment of aggravation and frustration i say louise, could you please just Go Away for like, 20 minutes? to which she says chirpily "No!" and storms out.
it all blows up the next morning in Cairo. i've slept on the train in as much as i closed my eyes and time passed, but i couldn't tell you anything i saw out of the window on the bus to the hotel. Louise heads off to get some breakfast and i grab a quick shower in lukewarm water and read my book while i'm waiting for the jewellery merchant to show up. he'd met us a couple of days beforehand in Luxor with a range of samples and i ordered a silver and black-rubber bracelet with my name on it in heiroglyphs. when i try it on it's too small and i'm promised that it'll be adjusted by the time we get back from Dahab and i leave it at that. i'm booked in to go for a wander through Cairo Market and a Perfumery where they deal in pure essential oils, but i'm fucked. completely fucking-fucked. Annabel Chong-fucked. out of my mind and out of my tree-fucked. others in the group seem to be able to sleep happily on the bus or the train. Louise is particularly good at it - she's barely in her seat before she's out like a light. i'm climbing into bed when she comes through the door the get her stuff together for the tour and she finally explodes at me before storming out the door. 5 hours later she's back in the room and i've had a couple of hours sleep and a bit of a sober think. she doesn't want to talk to me, but she pays attention when i ask can we talk please, because i need to work out whether i should be trying to get on the next plane to London. it's not an empty threat, either. an hour of tensions flared, grievances aired and home truths shared goes by and in the end i'm not calling Air Egypt or arranging a taxi to the airport. we've sorted out a lot in that hour and it's a shame it took a Category 4 Shitstorm to get some of that out in the open. things aren't perfect, but they'll be OK and downstairs in the pub when i ask so, are we cool? she takes my hand and says "Yeah."
i'd complain about the wasted day but i'd be wasting oxygen on a lie. i needed a day to rest and recuperate. a lot of the other tourists have taken the chance to catch some sleep before the next, last big push. we say goodbye to Soobie who's off home for a shower and some sleep and hello to Wally who'll be showing us around Dahab for the next 5 nightd. he promises no early starts, no wakeup calls, plenty of fucking around doing very little but also plenty of diversions that'll ensure that we're never bored while our wallets continue to empty at a steady pace. Louise and i join in an expedition afterwards to grab Egyptian KFC before kitting out in our beds and looking through some of the photos we've taken on my Eee until around 11PM and when the wakeup call comes through at 5AM i don't mind so much.
now i'm most of the way to Dahab on the bus crammed into a seat over the wheel-arch with my Eee on my lap. i managed an extra hour or so of sleep on the bus this morning before our fuel-stop, but the bumpy roads have prevented me from getting any more. i had a bit of a chat with our new guide Wally when he came down and wanted to check out what i was litening to. i introduced him to "Romance is dead" by Parkway Drive, he gave me his metal-face and put up the horns. all around is desert. i actually saw a guy on a camel shadowing the road a couple of minutes ago. there's actually mobile reception out here, if you'll believe it. we're on a major highway so i guess it's not that surprising, but i'll admit to being a little shocked when Wally's phone rang a little while ago. this is the second last of the sleepless days because tonight at 11PM we're getting our shit together and climbing Mt Sinai - 3 or 4 hours to the top so that we can watch the sun rise, then visit the Monostery of the Burning Bush. i've got a few things to say about that, but right now i'm tired and emotional and feel the need to be sociable so i'm going to save my battery and talk about it once i've been there, worked on my tan, swum in the Red Sea and had a good seafood dinner instead.
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