Dahab

Travel Journal 9/16/2007

Dahab is touristy. It's a hippie/traveller resort city on the Gulf of Aqaba not far from Israel, Jordan and within site of Saudi. It comes complete with shops hawking the same hippie clothes and accessories as India- and I assume elsewhere- and restaurants on the beach serving up backpacking ad "Egyptian" food in a chillaxed setting.

Hala and I spent five days here and eventually found our routine. Waking up late we have breakfast at a beachside restaurant around 11am. After this we do our best to waste time during the midday extreme sun and heat by cruising the AC shops, utilizing the numerous internet cafes, or louning in our room- also AC.

At night we eat dinner early, around 6pm, waste some more time breezing through the kitchy shops, and return to the row of cloned restaurants for some ice cream and a sheesha- mint being our favorite flavor. This is capped by an early night as well, usually in bed before 10pm.

However, around 2:30pm, after time wasting and before dinner, we put on our bathing suits- I have my cargo pants minus the zipped-off legs- lather ourselves in sunblock, grab our snorkel gear- rented for under $2 a day- and head to one of myriad snorkeling areas in or around the city.

This is my favorite part. I'd only been snorkeling once before I came to Egypt, in Hawaii over spring break in my junior year of high schoolo. I remember my masking leaking salt water into my eyes, and swallowing enough through my crappy tube to get sick and not want to do it ever again. However with the better quality equopment available to us in what is basically a Red Sea diving Mecca, I realized I really enjoy floating face down witnessing an alien world within reach of the normal one.

The reefs run up and down the coast of the REd Sea and, where they haven't been degraded by overuse or irresponsible visitors, overflow with a spectrum of marine life I'd never tried to imagine.

Schools of shiny fish dart past the large individuals out for a carefree jaunt among brightly colored outcrops os coral inches below my floating torso. Millions of fish as far as I can see. Blue, maroon, yellow and white. Striped, spotted, half one color and half another. Deflated puffer fish, fish resembling a steel blade, and fish with finger-tipped fins. Layers of color, one on top of the other, fading slowly to a blue-grey dozens of yards below through the clear, clean water. These scenes, made for post cards and IMAX movies, are those of true natural beauty I hadn't before admired.

Dahab has its downsides: touts, hassle, high prices, the lack of fresh tap water- yes, the entire tourist part of the city, hotels, restaurants and all have only salt water running through their pipes. But despite those shortcomings, and that my skin is still covered in a salty residue (I really SHOULD shower more) the relaxed atmosphere, late evening beach-side sheeshas, and of course the new-to-me wild frontier of underwater exploration led to a relaxing but adventurous time in Hippie-ville.

But I still prefer mountains to the sea.

Luxor

After a week of hanging out in Cairo with our couchsurfing friend Mostafa, Hala and I boarded a plane down south on the Nile. Luxor was our destination. It was actually cheaper to fly than to take the 20+ hour train. Who knew?

Luxor is a city built for tourism. The famed valley of the kings is just across the Nile and over a ridge from the center of town. There are numerous temples, tombs, monuments and other things to attract tourists from all over the world arriving en mass in huge buses ready to take a picture and head to the next packaged tourist site. Needless to say, Hala and I didn't really like Luxor too much.

Our hotel room was another in a string of disappointments with bathroom doors not closing because they weren't measured properly and bedroom doors not opening because the doorknob is missing. Couple this with a permanently flooded bathroom floor and its a hassle. However our room was nowhere near the hassle we received from around town. As with any other tourist dominated city, the touts are out for blood. People hawking trinkets, taxi or carriage rides, tours of all kinds or rides on the Nile, everywhere we looked we were hounded.

Despite the hassle, Hala and I had ourselves a couple decent trips. For all our hotel's downsides the staff was pretty helpful, especially one young man named Riggi. He sold us on a donkey tour of the West Bank with all its temples and tombs. Early the next morning we headed out intending to finish our trip before the extreme heat of the day. We met our donkey guide, Mohamed at our hotel and followed him to the ferry across the river. Then we met our donkeys.

Hala's was Mini Ha Ha and my stead's name was Cici- which is a little too close to Sissy for my liking. I've never ridden a donkey before and verbally expressed my doubt beforehand that these diminutive creatures could carry my ass up a mountainside. Well they can. Their strength and endurance is quite impressive actually even if I do look ridiculous riding an animal that is a couple feet shorter than I am. I had to be careful on the long rode from the Nile towards the mountain because we rode next to the curb, and my feet were only a few inches off the ground. At least if I fell I wouldn't hurt myself like I did on my camel trek last Christmas.

It took more than an hour or so for our trio of donkey jockeys to make it down the road, up a few hills and finally up and over the crest above the Valley of the Kings. It was by then 8am and Mohamed waited for us in the shade of the ridge as we descended in search of Pharonic treasures. Instead we found a massive horde of European tourists in shorts and sunhats with video cameras filming the undramatic scene.

They had all arrived on dozens of giant A/C tour buses and had tour guides speaking the whole range of European languages. Hala and I tried to escape their masses and we were successful for awhile. With the ticket to the Valley, we are allowed entry into 3 tombs. Our first was a short hike up and around from the crowded center and we found ourselves isolated and alone with enough time to enjoy the ancient tomb, its well preserved wall paintings and its giant stone sarcophagus. After that, it went to shit. We joined a short line to get into our second tomb after our attempts at entering others which we had picked from their descriptions on our guide book were thwarted because they were no longer open to the public. This tomb was sweltering from all the visitors and it was less than enjoyable sharing our experience with a bunch of nasally Brits.

By the time of our escape from the second tomb we were running way late from the time we had told Mohamed. In the interest of finishing quickly, we made our way to what turns out to be the most popular and therefore crowded tomb in the valley. A trip through a literal assembly line of tourists down the entrance of the tomb, around the end and back finished our time in the valley.
I didn't really care for the site, even without the other tourists I think it is an overrated tourist trap as every tomb is empty, few are decorated at all, and the price of admission is larcenous.

But, we made it back up to the ridge to meet Mohamed, Mini and Cici. Mounting our noble steads we headed once again into the heat of the desert. Down another path from where we had come, the sights were amazing. We could see down to the Nile from our vantage, and the craggy desert around us looked like the lunar surface, but scorched by the sun. It was gorgeous and the best part was we were alone to enjoy the views away from hawkers, touts and tourists. On our way around the other side, we had a great view down onto the valley that houses the temple of Hatsepsut. While previously we had wanted to go in, we figured our vantage point was the best we would get and that way we could avoid the cost, the crowds and the heat stroke by calling our trip short.

We stopped to snap a bunch of photos and headed down the mountain stopping at an alabaster shop on our way back down the road to the taxi.

Truthfully, this trip saved our time in Luxor. Those short donkeys are my personal saviors. Any other tour or even renting a taxi for the day would have left me completely disappointed with my time among the temples and tombs of the west bank. But the experience of riding the donkeys away from the crowds and with views that no one else was getting with a friendly young man guide made the day very fun and a total success.

The only other thing worth mentioning in Luxor was our sunset cruise of the Nile. We didn't have to look hard for a boatman to take us out and we settled on Mahmod and his felucca the Endeavor. The trip was quite enjoyable and the sunset over the west bank of the Nile orange and gorgeous. We didnt even let our captain spoil it when he tried to con us out of money we know we didn't owe him. I was talking to Laura on Hala's cell phone when he was pushing us and so she got a small glimpse into my "I DONT TAKE SHIT" persona. In all this was another memorable experience.


We cut our time in Luxor far shorter than we expected, hoping to capitalize on more time on the Sinai peninsula where we are now. We took a short but expensive ferry from the Eastern coast of Egypt across to the southern point of Sinai and are now in the relaxed hippie-ville city of Dahab doing out best to enjoy ourselves despite our (really just my) distaste for other tourists. We are being pretty successful and are enjoying ourselves a lot, more details to come. However, this much tourism makes me impatient for my upcoming trip to Cameroon to visit my friend Brian who is on his way into the Peace Corps. Hopefully next year!

Cairo

Travel Journal 9/4/2007:

I've split my time in Cairo between being a local, being a tourist and being lazy. I'm not proud to say the latter two have been more common than the former.

The first night in the city, Hala and I joined our couchsurfer host, Mostafa, and his friends at a screening of films by the local film shool students and then to a cafe downtown for tea, food and sheesha. Mostafa speaks perfect English as he studied in America and has spent time in the UK. His friends don't really speak English at all but we communicate well with gestures and though out host. That night we stayed up until 530am playing cards. The next day we woke up so late that we ended up not doing anything more productive than checking our email.

The Egyptian Museum was disappointing. There was nothing I hadn't seen a half dozen times already in the great museums of Europe. Instead of going to the pyramids that night, we ended up hanging around Mostafa's apartment trying to beat the heat, a common practice for everyone. The days are so hot and we stay up so late usually that we rarely get up and out of the house much before sunset.

Hala and I did make our way to the pyramids for sunset a couple nights ago. Unfortunately we were rushed since we were misinformed of the closing time. We didn't get a chance to walk around them for a view of the structures lit up by the golden lights of the setting sun and we ad to settle for a backlit view.

On our way out we feigned ignorance and headed down the wrong path in hopes of double backing for a few more minutes with the great stone giants. We were confronted by a guard. Instead of sending us away he assured us we were okay and offered us to climb a little on one of the giant pyramid and even took our picture and posed for one with Hala. Of course a small baksheesh was necessary as payment for his extra service.

I was less disappointed after this friendly encounter because we got to touch the limestone mammoths, had a few unrushed minutes alone with them and got a few decent pictures because of it.

Late that night, Mostafa escorted us to the old Islamic city with sections of the original city walls, 9th and 10th century mosques and a friendly bazaar open long after 11pm.

Our trio strolled the narrow lanes of the bazaar shopping for nothing in particular and chatting and joking with the amiable shopkeepers. As we hadn't eaten much that day we stopped at a cafe and our host ordered us a couple warm and creamy desserts, like a milkier Egyptian version of creme brulee.

With our appetite's curbed temporarily Mostafa led us on a late night tour among the towering minarets of te old main road of Islamic Cairo. e was an incredibly knowledgable tour guide and we walked for hours in the early mornin stoppin to gaze at another gorgeous mosque facade or to ask or answer a question.

The black and white marble of many of the mosques reminded me of the Duomo in Siena which was designed to incorporate influences of many cultures including the Arab world in order to exhibit their multinational importance.

As we passed on of these mosques a tourist police came up, chatted with Mostafa for a few seconds until our host turned guide looked to us and asked if we would like to go inside the large mosque complex in front of us. The smiling policeman gave Mostafa history and architectural information that was passed on to us and we were encouraged to explore the corners of the stone courtyard in the center and to take pictures. He even instructed us to stand in a far dark corner from where the giant dome of the other side of the mosque was visible out of the center courtyard. It was all so peaceful alone in the giant gray structure at 2am and was an inspring experience.

On our last day in Cairo Hala and I made our way to the Coptic area of the city. We visited some churches and made our way down narrow alleys in search of more monasteries and chapels. Many of the buildings were very old and were built on ancient Roman structures that were sometimes visible below the floor.

That night Mostafa met us for some culture. A few hours of beautiful folk singing and dancing at a cultural center was an unforgetable experience. I believe the style is called Zar and is a mix of many folk styles from around Egypt. In it the women play the central roll and the men are secondary. During our show the old costumed women sang gorgeously in Arabic and gracefully and slowly slipped around the small room connecting with the audience. Some of the fun moments included a man with sunken cheeks playing a flute. When he would blow, his cheeks would puff our like a frog croaking. For another song, a thin man with a huge pot belly strapped on a cumberbun of goat hooves and mimicked the "Twist" dance while essentially acting as a human marraca. That was my favorite.

The next morning we flew to Luxor where we are now. Our time in Cairo was varied and maybe we spent too much time doing too little. However I again didn't mind enjoying the hospitality of a new friend and relaxing with him and his crew playing cards, drinking tea and pretending the heat didn't bother us.

North Coast Beach House

Travel Journal 9/1/07:

Nader Pickd Hala and I up and we reached the beach house with Mustafa and Umnea around 3pm. There we were me byUmnea's parents, younger brother, Ali (21), twin brother and sister (14) and a range of cousins young and old and a handful of aunts. Everyone seemed very friendly and happy we came. The house was small but very nicely decorated and quite beautiful architecturally. When I told the father this in a down point in the conversation, he seemed very pleased and gave me a tour.

After a small feast of meat, salad, pasta and other dishes we changed and headed for the beach. No one told the Egyptians to wait to swim an hour to after eating.

I zipped the legs off my cargo pants, smothered myself in SPF 50 sunblock, changed my t-shirt and was ready to go.

At the beach a lot of us headed to the water right away. There must have been a dozen or more in our group and they all looked at my funny when I kept my shirt on in the water. How to explain to 2nd degree sunburn to an Arab?

After about 5 mnutse of splashing in the waves I felt I'd had enough. Salt water in your eyes, up your nose and in your throat and stomach. Half standing half floating in water while the rough sea's swells batter you around for a few hours. Polluted water conspiring to seep into your body any way possible. And sand finding trespassing in every crack and orephus you newer knew existed until you had to rinse it our a tenth time.

In my head I saw, "What's the point? Where's the fun in this?" Though, ever the international diplomat, out loud I say "I'm havng a great time! So much fun!" I plant a smile firmly on my face, throw out a few thumbs up and grit it out. Nader couldn't believe I hadn't swam in the sea for 6 years. He and Hala were the last two out of the water, while I might wait another six.

One of the tiny cousins plays volleyball on a team. When her ball materialized after the sun was nearly set and the group and finally emerged from the primordial ooze, Hala suggested we go play. It started as just a cuople of us but after some time we had a decent 4 on 4 noncompetitive game going. The fun ran until well after the sun set and the light gave way to dusk then finally to dark.

It was after 10 pm when we made it back to the house and had washed most of the sand off of us. A short time of sitting around doing nothing prompted the little cousins to suggest playing a game.

Twister and Jenga were produced. Although Twister never made it out of the box, thank Allah, we played 3 rounds of Jenga each with around seven participants teasing each other and laughing incredibly loud until the inevitable moment someone poked or pulled too hard and sent the tower toppling over in slow motion as everyone reached out to stop it.

Hala introduced her favorite card game, Egyptian Rat Screw. Everywhere she goes in the world, which is a lot places, she teaches the people this game. She is quick ad takes the game very seriously so she always wins. Last Christmas our young boy camel guide in the Thar Desert beat hala and she freaked out and still denies it.

We had aroud 10 players playing at the beach house, all around a small table leaning over hands ready to slap the central ple of cards when necessary. It was chaos, a jungle of arms and fingers. When I was eliminated I went into the living room and chatted with some of the old cousins for an hour.

When I returned to the table, the game was still in progress, Hala was still in it, and a little later she had won, beating out 9 others.

Around 2AM we had a small meal, only our second of the day, of bread and cheese. We gave our thanks to the parents and owners of the house and when I told her mother sincerely that her house and family is incredible she seemed a little taken aback and embarrassed by the compliment.

We also had to say goodbye to Mustafa since he and Umnea would not be available the next day and we hadn't decided whether we would leave or stay anyway. We gave heartfelt salutations and promised to stay in contact and that I would repay their hospitality one day.

Nader drove us home and, to keep us from leaving the next day, promised to hang out with us.

The following afternoon we returned to the fancy beach bungalo and while I was sitting outside relaxing the prime minister's entourae drove by and parked on the one narrow road. I didn't see the man himself because it was around the corner but I was told that he has a bunaglo just down from their own.

Nader and Hala were excited to eat at Quizno's that day and so we headed to a mall's food court. We all ate, myself included and I made them promise not to tell anyone I ated American fast food. It was pretty bad like I thought it would be anyway. The other two enjoyed it a lot.

Lastly we saw the new Harry Potter movie in a different mall. Nader hated it and was bored throughout but I like it somewhat.

He drove us home and we all shared a heart felt goodbye. He, his cousin Mustafa and Umnea had done so much for us, and for me although we had just met. It still amazes me, the hospitality of strangers. I've also learned first hand the benefits of having friends around the world, or in my case, friends of friends. But now, thaks to Hala and the openess of her contacts in Egypt, I too can say I have friends in Alexandria.