Egypt, the rest of a fascinating adventure

Day #9: November 12th

I counted 28 new mosquito bites on my left wrist when I woke up. Darn, if only I had taken a bit of time to do some research before my trip, I would have read that the Nile region is very much a mosquito infested region. Oh well…

I got up at about 5:30am, right when the sun started to show its nose out. Good timing for a morning wee wee and peaceful awakening. No one else, or rather nothing else is already awake. The world is mine.

Ramadan had said last night that we would sail off at 7am today. Yeah right! It is 8am and no one is awake yet. What a pair of sailors the two of them make!

9am, finally we go. Seems the wind decided to be shy today...we take close to two hours to make it to Kom Ombo, instead of the 40 announced yesterday. Big deal. As long as I am on a boat, am ok.

We park doc the felucca right at the food of the Kom Ombo temple. I say Good bye to Bob Marley, and Ramadan walks with me until we find a tuk tuk that will take me to the micro bus station. Next stop, Luxor, the first and main city of antique Egypt.

The negotiating with the micro bus driver is tough. I cut his price in half, from 100 EL to 50. He finally agrees. I had read on some blog that a slightly longer distance used to run for about 20, before the dramatic inflation hit Egypt. So i assumed 50 would be about right today. Yeah right. The actual price was 30. Darn!

I am always amazed and at loss of understanding, when taking this kind of bus anywhere in the developing world. Each and every time, the driver leaves the engine running forever before departing, but waits until bus is fully loaded to go right across the street and fill up at gas station...and put air in the tires. Why not do it before???!!!

On the way, i learn something perhaps useless, but interesting: the exact width of a pickup truck is equal to three camels put next to each other. How do i learn that? Ask me and I will send you the photo. ;0)

Later on, we have to switch bus. One coming from Quena unloads its passengers, and ours does the same, and we trade buses. So comes the moment to pay for the full ride so the two drivers can pay each other. Usual process I have gone through multiple times. So, when one passenger collecting money from all the others asks 35 pounds (instead of 30 because we are a couple of people less than full load), i do the exact same thing i did once in Borneo, i insist on paying the same price as the locals. The driver is pissed as we had negotiated 50. I dont care and hold my position strong, using my weak Arabic, and making everyone in the bus understand that there is no reason why i should pay more than others just because I am a foreigner. He refuses, and so do I. What the hell?! Discrimination! In the end I manage to pay 40. Win win, but only after strongly persisting with the new driver.

I dont mind paying more for some touristy things or souvenir shops (that is, until i know that actual local price), but for public transportation, where as a foreigner i receive no extra service or comfort, out of the question.

We finally make it to Luxor, well, since the bus continued to Quena, i actually got dropped at a cross road, near a little canal, surrounded by gorgeous bougainvilliers, red, pink, white, and orange. The minute I stepped foot on the ground I could feel the energy of the place. What an energy!

I knew i was far away from the guest house i wanted to stay at (Happy Land Hotel), but after 3 days on a boat, and several hours of bus, i just wanted to walk and discover the city on foot. I hadnt walk 100 meters when a guy on his motorcycle stops at my level and tells me to hop on. Kindness out of nowhere. Refusing would not only be dumb,but perhaps insulting. Random, selfless, acts of kindness should not be refused, especially when travelling, as one never knows what they can lead to. But it was a perfect ying and yang synchronicity after the discriminatory event in the bus. I smile.

The guy has no clue where i am going but figured giving me a ride would shorten my walk. He drops me off several kilometers later. I want to thank him by giving him a big mango I had saved (financially worth the bus ride), but he refuses and takes off. No word exchanged. Just kindness and smiles.

I keep walking. Discovering Luxor is magical. The Luxor temple is an open air easily observable museum in the heart of the city, gigantic, and part of the city setting. Jaw dropping.

There is actually a 3km alley of 1800 sphinxes connecting downtown Luxor to Karnak temples. Spectacular, and this in the open just like any city tramway tracks.

On a little bridge above the alley and in front of the main Luxor temple, at sunset, i stumble upon another of these sweet potato cooking stall. I cant hold it. I am starving. I stop and order a big portion. The guy, named Mahmoud, serves it with sugar on top. Delicious. And so I spend a bit of time chit chatting with Mahmoud who so happens to be a former dive master from the Red Sea.

That was the perfect way to enjoy a sunset on one of the most ancient cities of the world.

Off to find my guest house I went. Happy Land Hostel. And that’s just what it was. In the middle of the city, in a small street filled with school kids flowing back home. The owner’s name is also Mahmoud. Seems like that name has been tagging all along during my trip thus far.

I spent the rest of the evening wandering around the streets of Luxor, loving that city more and more.

Day #10, November 13th

Today I really saw Luxor’s beauty full power. Beyond anyone’s imagination. The Valley of the kings, Karnak, Luxor Temple by night...speechless. Comparable to Bagan valley or Shwedaggon Pagoda in Burma or Angkor temples in Cambodia. The “grandness’’, the architecture, the energy, etc... After seeing such place, impossible to see museums. Why see a compilation of remains/leftovers in a souless room when you can see the real thing. And well, after Sulawesi’s Toraja’s death culture, I never thought I would ever be AMAZED by any other death focused culture. But the tombs in the Valley of the Kings are beyond anything I had ever seen before. No word was able to come out of my mouth as I was walking through them because of how impressed and in awe I was.

What a day! Luxor is THE city not to be missed.

Day #11 and more...

A big taxi driver named Mahmoud tried to lure me into another tourist trap as I am walking away from the Go Bus office disappointed about the fact that the next bus out is so many hours away. But hey, everything happens for a reason. So having time to kill, I hop into that taxi to get to the other side of the city and try and find a micro bus instead. I wanted to make the best use of my day.

And that’s where I met this guy named Adam. A waiter in one of the southern red sea resorts. A really cool guy, also waiting for the next micro bus to depart. He is going to Marsa Alam, and me to El Quseir. Such an interesting guy to travel with and learn more about the region and the culture.

When in El Quseir, I felt like I had arrived at the end of the world, sort of. Tiny town, dead quiet. I still  had to walk a good 3 KM before finding the only hotel in town. Beautiful building with a Moroccan Riad wooden facade like. But inside, as dusty as if the place had not been open for 20 years. The owner is this really cool young guy involved in interesting social projects in town.

Deception of the day, the ferry is not departing thursday but friday. My first feeling is slight anger and frustration. Spending 3 full days in this hole. No way! Ha! I totally changed my mind after walking around and seeing how incredible this place is. And well, I also managed to line up a few dives for the next two days. So not a bad thing after all.

When evening arrived, I found this great little paillote restaurant on the beach. So I got myself a nice shisha and a fresh juice, reading my book to the sound of the ocean singing good night to the sun. And to my amazement, a big white desert fox strolls by, back and forth, probably looking for some food leftovers. A beautiful feline with a long puffy tail. Size between a fox and a big dog. Impressive and beautiful at the same time.

The town being a former italian phosphate mining town, I assumed it would have some decent italian food heritage. Hehe! Not really apparently. The one pizza place I was able to find made decent pizzas, but nothing out of this world. But its two owners, Mohamed and 3amada, quickly became my best friends in town. I spent every single evening til my departure just hanging out with them on the porch of this shop, sitting on a wooden broken chair, people watching, and chatting about culture, life, and family.

Mohamed and 3amada. Both chefs at a high end bakery factory. Explaining to them that to me the best country in the world is the one of the moment i am at each moment, living in the present. Made me realize that the kindest people i have encountered are usually the ones with whom i have been at my kindest as well.

There definitely was a reason why I ended up getting stuck in this town for more days. To enjoy the little things of life even more.

The dives were decent dives, but nothing that impressive. After diving in Indonesia, it is so difficult to be impressed. Though, thanks to the absolute lack of professionalism from my dive master, I managed to do a few dives below 40 meters deep.

The ferry from Hurghada to Sharm El Sheikh and the ride from Sharm to Dahab were quite some adventures. One involving an interesting retired Saudi guy, and the other involving trying to negotiate a cab for myself and 3 chineses. Ha! But I shall not say more here. Gotta keep some more stories for when we meet in person.

Dahab…

Dahab, on the Red Sea side southern Sinai is probably one of the coolest hippy/bohemian/dive towns I have ever seen. Such an incredible vibe and people from all over the world. Mostly scuba divers and free divers. It reminded me a lot of Pokhara in Nepal.

The hostel I stayed at Simbad, was just perfect. Exactly what I was looking for. And the first dive center I walk to, well, I could not have found any better. I definitely made lifelong friends at Mirage Dive Center. Andy, Nada, Peter, John, Nour, Huda, and more. My four days in Dahab went by to fast. I knew as soon as I got there that it would be hard to leave. Especially after hearing the stories of all the foreigners there who had come on vacation, but then returned and just settled there.

In Dahab, every body rides a bicycle, so you bet I loved that place. Heaven on earth! Restaurants selling all kinds of food, europeans and local, at cheap prices.

Diving in Dahab was not amazing in terms of fish, but in terms of coral, it was incredible. We went to a few spots which were just incredible. Andy is such a great diver instructor. I actually managed to further my diving with a couple more certifications. So I am now officially a certified Advanced diver!

And well, the Sinai, or at least what I saw of it, is just unbelievably beautiful. I love mountain landscapes. Thats for sure one thing I will miss the most from Morocco, the Atlas Mountain range. But Sinai made me want to return just to hike it. The light the sun casts on it at sunset, is perhaps as unique as the sunlight in Morocco’s northern Sahara desert. Magical.

A good thing I did not actually hike Sinai, given that the same night I was back in Cairo, a suicide bombing happened in northern Sinai, killing hundreds of people. Yet another drama caused by religion.

Egypt definitely surprised me for reasons that I had not expected. It is a country I would for sure recommend to everyone. But please, do not try and squeeze the traditional touristy places into a short amount of time as you will miss the greatness of it all. Make less stops, but longer ones. I suppose that advice goes for any place in the world. But in Egypt, there are so many places on the tourist tour and people usually tend to speed through them, that most of what they end up bringing back are photos, but no real soul to soul interaction with the country and its people.

Oh, and the last saturday’s Islamic cairo morning walk with Greg and Dorte was like travelling back through the past. These two are experts of every single piece of history and architecture in that part of the city. I cant believe I actually was lucky enough to tag along on their morning walk.

Leaving Egypt was hard. I dont thing there is one single thing I regret from my trip. Not one. So much went through my mind during that trip, between having just ended a very interesting mission with MTC, backpacking through such a country, having just said Good Bye to my life in Rabat, getting ready for my very first photo exhibit in Marrakech, and transitioning to Benin for yet another very challenging adventure in a new country. Many sleepless nights back to back, with all these feelings and emotions tornadoing in my head...

Here are the photos of my whole trip: https://www.flickr.com/gp/52537245@N00/PRoGU2

Egypt, days #5-8: Aswan, Elephantine island, Abou Simbel, the Nile...

Day #5, November 8th

The Nile shore is infested with mosquitoes. I should have known. I turned on the ceiling fan at night to keep them off of me. Down side, I caught a cold.

Since the mini van to visit Abou Simbel temple got canceled, my day is now open. So with  Dominic we negotiate 4 hours of felucca ride around Aswan and its southern nubian island called Suhail island.

But before the felucca ride, the old lady from the guest house and i had an incredibly interesting conversation about life, religion and faith. (she is this short beautiful old woman, dark skin and all dressed/veiled in black. Apparently, in this region, once you are married you are only allowed to wear black...when you think that in the West it is the color of grief, it is quite funny). Once again, she is Muslim not by choice buy because her family before has been muslim. (interesting that the Nubian people, because of different waves of occupation, have been both muslim and christian at different periods of time). She really enjoys going to church during weddings or other christian celebrations, but apparently would not be allowed if she went on her own outside such event. And mind you, Christian here means Coptic...where the priest is an old long white hair bearded man dressed all in black with a tall hat, very much as orthodox as can be. Her reaction was so open when i told her i had no religion and did not feel the need to have one, as to me they all preach the same thing (no killing, no lying, no stealing, no sexual misconduct, kindness, generosity, compassion...well, at least the people at the origin of each religion were admired because of such values, then politics got involved and messed it all up, mainly to divide populations and create a whole economy around it economically benefitting its leaders, and no longer preaching the original values. It is indeed sad to see that throughout history, not a single religion has respected its original values, but has rather killed and lied with the supposedly sole purpose to spread its faith for the good of all. Lol just like the USA and the West invading countries and killing people in order to impose democracies. What a joke!

Anyhow, she doesnt want the conversation to end. Neither do i, but time flies and felucca man had arrived.

Ever since the government built the high dam to provide irrigation water for the whole country, the life around Aswan and the nubian region has totally changed. And it seems that the last revolution has made things even worse for these people. A bit like DAESH crisis did in the Dogon region of Mali, though not as dramatic, as Aswan still sees quite a lot of tourists.

When boarding Suhail’s island shore we get greeted by two old people, the village chief and his right hand. And bam! another tourist trap we fell into. After a quick rather uninteresting tour of the nubian village, we give our bakchich/tip to the men, and leave. Very disappointing, as it seemed that the more interesting part of the area was not this island but rather the west bank on the other side across the island.

On our way back i learn and realize that going up north the Nile, though in the direction of the flow of the river, also means going against the wind (which comes from the north), forcing the feluccas to zig zag their way up. That also made me understand why the southern part of Egypt is called Upper Egypt and the northern part, Lower Egypt. The souther part of the Nile is actually 17 meters higher than the northern part. Hence its flow south-north.

Back at the guest house, we have enough time for a delicious lunch. I forgot to mention how delicious the lunch at the guesthouse was yesterday. The old lady cooks delicious nubian food.

Then, magnetically intrigued and attracted by the giant sand dune, we negotiate with another boat man,to get dropped off at the foot of the dune, further south of the Tomb of the nobles entrance, right on time for the sunset.

Ha! it is only once at the foot of it that we realized how crazy steep the dune was. Almost vertical! Hmmm...in order to make it to the top on time, no choice but to run. Ha! yeah right! have you tried running up a sahara sand dune? a vertical one? 100% dry air. 1 step up, 5 steps down. Work out for the week. Cardio and legs! The initiative felt so absurd that i kept laughing the whole time. But once at the top...wow! To the left the whole city and its mosques and cathedral. In front of us the Nile, its islands and feluccas, and to our right, a sea of gold waves, the desert, as far as the eye can see, and seeming like a silky golden bed where the sun is slowly setting. Priceless. I am amazed that no one else has thought of climbing up here for sunset.

The hike up and sunset were stunning. But the best part was the “hike’ down. Bare feet in the warm sand. Sliding down, or rather skiing down this gigantic dune, having as much fun as a kid going to Disneyland for the first time. It reminded so much of this magical moment when with a few friends we did the exact same thing on our way down from Mount Bromo, in Java, back in 2013. Magical! Dominic took a while before accepting my advice to take off shoes and socks. But he quickly understood the amazing difference it made.

Back down, i made my way to Mr Hakim to meet a potential felucca captain and negotiate terms and price for a three day felucca trip down the Nile and to Kom Ombo. Good deal, and kind looking Captain.

I had forgotten to book my room for a second night, so i have to sleep on a mattress on the floor of the small hall. Big deal anyway as I will have to be up and gone by 3:30am to catch ferry and bus to Abou Simbel tomorrow.

I bought myself a huge mango and red pomegranates for dinner and eat them on the terasse, chatting with new guests who just arrived. A british family whose son is doing a PhD in Egypt Archeology in Northern Sudan (part of the former Nubian empire). As a side job he also does aerial photography of archeological sites in Jordan. Fascinating! So he gives me a brief history of Abou Simbel temple, which by the way, is situated at the southern tip of the Egyptian desert on the border with Sudan.

What a beautiful day! Thank you life!

Day #6, November 9th

After yet another intense night of fighting with mosquitos (I counted more than 30 bites, just on one hand), I get up (I purposefully do not say wake up as I did not  sleep at all, so I was already awake) at 3:15 in the  morning. Still full night and dark outside. 15 minutes later we take off, half awake, cross the island and hop on the ferry boat.

We waited a good half hour, in the cold and the dark of the night, at a bus stop exiting the ferry, for the minivan to pick us up. Seemed that everyone was making the same long face we were, not fully awake and not really looking forward to 4 hours of bus to get to the site.

As the sun is rising, the landscape gets magical. The million dunes of all sizes make the sand desert appear as a sea of gold, as far as the eyes can see. A spectacle in itself...to my opinion, much more interesting and beautiful than the actual temples we visited.

Abou Simbel is a temple that was initially at the level of the Nile. People would arrive by boat, directly facing the temple. A spectacle. However, with the dam, the water level rose so high that the temple was threaten to get immersed. So back in the 60’s the government managed to get UNESCO to finance its relocation higher up on a cliff, and thus had to relocate  the entire mountain. (the temple, well the two temples were dug into two mountains). In total they sawed the temples into about 3000 giant chunks of stone, and reassembled them after having to artificially build two mountains atop a plateau. In my opinion, losing the original charm of it all.

And so yes despite the fact that these two temples might be among the most important parts of Egyptian history, and are according to some.guides and books, some of the greatest jewels of antique Egypt, in my personal opinion, it was not at all worth the total of about 8hrs of bus ride. But hey, to each his own opinion. Other tourists seemed incredibly thrilled.

Back in Aswan, i wandered in the souq, relaxed and enjoyed culture watching while sipping a mango juice.

Another great lesson I learnt about my travel interest. Travelling far away only to see a place, but not the life, culture, people around it, not again, no thank you. Travelling all this way made me want to go even more south and cross over to Sudan, but unprepared and without my bag, not possible. Abou Simbel temple is totally isolated from any sort of life around it, nothing other than a tiny little village of the people who probably had come to work on the relocation project.

Day #7, November 10th

Finally I managed to sleep a full night, no mosquito, no cold, just sleep. It was about time about three days of no sleep. Batteries and morale fully recharged. Ready for more adventure. Ready for a few days aboard a felucca riding down the Nile.

I get up early for a last tour of the island...it is Friday so everyone is still either asleep or barely up, but the small alleys of the island are quite empty which makes for a very peaceful and quiet morning walk. Wish I had made it a good hour earlier to catch the sunrise. Oh well...the sun rises every morning, so I will have other opportunities.

I pack my stuff and go have breakfast on the roof of the guest house. The older lady later comes up to pick up the tray, with a sad grin on her face. She tells me she doesn't want me to leave. It is just her and I on the roof. She tells me she will miss me a lot. She has had a few rough weeks as her favorite brother passed away 3 weeks ago. As she tells me this, she starts crying. I try as delicately as possible to cheer her up, but no word can really sooth such sorrow I suppose. I realized later in the day that the right thing or rather the best thing would have probably been to take her in my arms and give her a big hug. Wish I had thought about it sooner.

After telling me the story of her brothers, she tells me she doesn't like goodbyes. She gives me a big smile, tells me that I am like her son and that whatever I need I can call her. She asks that I send her a message once I am back in Morocco just to make sure I made it home ok. And she leaves. Now the sad grin is also on my face.

I slam my bag on my back and off I go as well.

This morning, while walking  around the island, I made a sudden discovery about myself which helped me better understand why it is that I like so much to travel the way I do, and why often times I feel like I am not necessarily attracted by the same touristy things most travellers  are. Like I mentioned before I am not a fan of museums or historical monuments. The reason being and now it is much clearer in my mind, because I am not so much interested by the past or how such and such people used to live, but am rather interested by how they live today. Hence why I prefer to walk through the back streets of a city than to visit it's key museums/monuments. And well, you can imagine how this is hitting me hard in Egypt, a country that is almost an open sky giant size museum in every village and or city you get to. But none of these are still part of today's life here, none. So after Luxor, I think I will skip any other historical site visit and rather focus on more modern folklore and life style...which seems thus far to be extremely similar to Morocco’s.

Caught the ferry and joined my two young captains (Ramadan and Samir) on the felucca, for our departure. I am so happy to be on the water. It makes me wonder every time if one day I will end up living on a boat rather than a house.

(Samir is a big Bob Marley fan, like many people here in Aswan. He wears a Bob Marley swim trunks, shirt and even scarf, and has about 3 of his songs on his cell phone. Lol)

The day of ride goes pretty well. I pretty much spent most of it sleeping as the boat is zig zagging downstream and against the wind. My snoring waking me up, as usual, is my best indicator to inform me as to how much tired I was and how much I needed to sleep. Pretty much what me getting a cold two days before was also supposed to inform me off. :0)

After dinner, and a warm cup of karkade (hibiscus flower infusion) Ramadan wanted to show me his village on the other side of the bush. So we get up and walk through sand and bush for a good 20 minutes, in total darkness. We cross a stream at least 3 meters wide...with only an old skinny palm tree trunk for a bridge. For those of you who have travelled quite a bit and in Africa, you know these times where you have seen a guy coming out of absolutely nowhere, appearing as if teletransported , and you wondering where the hell is this guy coming from? What is really behind those bushes?! Well, this time, we were this guy, we were the ones coming out of absolutely nowhere, and at night in total darkness. Even I as we were crossing the bushes I was wondering where were we walking towards as I couldn't see any light or hear any noise yet. Oh well...

After a while we finally reached paved road and dimmed orangish street light. We meet up some of his friends and sit down in this tent/hut near the village mosque. Only tweenage men in their Friday white robe attire, drinking tea, smoking, and playing dominos. Not a single woman. No TV screen broadcasting any football game. (It reminded me so much of my high school days when my friends  and I would spend nights playing cards, sometimes with music, and sometimes  also with alcohol, but not necessarily each time) Yet are all having a total blast. At one point we start playing Ludo game on a smart phone. (A version of “horses”). And everyone is leaning towards us 4 as we are playing. Another realisation came to my mind: often we strive for being surrounded by people who will intellectually stimulate us in order to feel like we are having a good and/or productive time. But why? When I see how much we can have much with simple dominos or a game of horses. I think what matters most is rather the complicity/companionship we manage to have with our friends, stimulating or not. If the end outcome is a smile and or a feeling of internal peace, then all is fine.

They were all so welcoming with me, cracking jokes here and there, understanding mines the few times I tried.

During dinner and when the sky turned dark, I tried, like I strangely always do, to spot out the constellation of Orion’s belt. (No i swear it has nothing to do with the movie Men in Black). But no success. Somehow, spotting it out always brings a smile on my face. And as we are leaving the tent/hut and bidding farewell to everyone, the first thing I spot looking up is Orion’s belt. :0)

Day #8, November 11th

A day of gliding down the Nile, sleeping and daydreaming, well needed day of rest. I just love being on a boat, synchronizing with the gentle oscillation of the water.

Today is the departure day for all the cruise ships I suppose. We saw no less than 40 of them going up and down towards the end of the day, all of them with almost empty sun roof decks. Makes you wonder how profitable are they if each of them travels pretty much empty given the low quantity of tourists these days in Egypt. Our felucca has been the only one I have seen thus far thus far. Seems that tourists are so not at ease that they prefer the big and safe cruise ships. Ramadan was telling me earlier that before the revolution of 2011, there were so many feluccas filled with tourists that it was almost impossible to find rest spots on the river banks. And for two days now we have been the only one. What a dramatic change. I tried to chat with Ramadan about the causes and all, but his English is extremely limited. My assumption is that it is not because of the revolution that people are “scared”, but rather because of the resulting government. He mentioned that people liked much more Mubarak. Ha, yet another case like Syria, Libya, Iraq, etc...where “revolution” seems to be fomented by foreign forces rather than the local population.

The sun got interrupted by the end of the wind for the day before we arrived at our rest spot.  Which meant we have to haul the boat for quite a while, through sand, swampy area, and water. Finally some action. Strangely it woke me up. Yay!

At last we make it to a beautiful beach on a big deserted island in the middle of the river. Only inhabitants, a few cows, and a man...Jabana man (Abdullah). Singer and poet.

After making a small camp fire on the  upper edge of the sand bank overlooking the river and the felucca, Abdullah  slowly prepares the jabana coffee according to a process  I had never seen before and with tools I  had never seen before. The result is delicious. If you think that Indian chai tea is spicy, wait till you try jabana coffee, a mix of Sudanese coffee with some cardamom and a few other spices I believe.

As the night is now fully dark, and we are sipping peacefully our coffee in cups the size of big finger tip, the peace gets broken by the symphony orchestra of all the surrounding muezzins calling out for prayer (same thing happened at Giza…), as if to remind everyone that no matter where you are or what you are doing, don't forget who is in charge and which order you need to submit yourself to.

Later on after dinner, as Mr Jabana (Abdullah), is finishing yet another song and as the fire brightness is taming down, I look up above Abdullah’s head and as the starts are brighter than ever, he is crowned by Orion’s belt constellation. I smile.

Am exhausted...of not having done a thing all day but also of not understanding any of the conversations going on. So time for me to get back on the boat and sleep. As I get up and bid farewell and thank you to Abdullah, Ramadan walks me back and tells me discretely that if I want I can give a tip to Abdullah. Agrrrr the night had been almost perfect. I gave him a copious dinner, but it seemed that it was not enough. It ruined a bit the moment as it made what seemed to be an authentic moment of hospitality and kindness sharing turn into a service transaction. Too bad. But no, I won't fall into yet another trap. False acts of generosity. I find it extremely sad that hospitality has become like that where every action expects a financial compensation in return. Thus far, Morocco and Egypt are the only two countries I have seen where this happens, at least that I can remember. I remember back in Asia, if you try to tip someone for such a thing, the person would get very mad and feel totally disrespected/dehumanized.

On that note, it is on the sound of a slightly offbeat and not so poetic sounding music that I go to sleep.

9am, finally we go. Seems the wind decided to be shy today...we take close to two hours to make it to Kom Ombo, instead of the 40 announced yesterday. Big deal. As long as I am on a boat, am ok.

.

Day #4: Aswan...

Day #4, November 7th

The train ia antique old. The wagon and the seats, though very comfortable because very large, seemed like they never got fixed or cleaned since original construction, but overall not any dirtier than the Paris metro or Moroccan train.

The ride was long, very long...especially this morning. However, the magnificent sunrise over the fields of sugar totally made up for it all. But it was still a long 15 hour ride. The dynamic of late overnight train is often the same, people are tired and just looking forward for the train to take off so they can remove their shoes and fall asleep. Very much the same as overnight flights. So my next seat neighbour and i did not actually exchange a word until arrival. And to his big surprise, i was not Egyptian, but a foreigner. lol

Great thing was that right outside the train station in Aswan, i found an extremely helpful tourist information center. Mr Hakim was so kind and welcoming, i couldn't believe it, almost as if barely anyone ever showed up so he was dying to interact with a foreigner and actually perform his job. Lucky me. I quickly ask about different prices in order to get some references for incoming bargaining, and off i go to Elephantine island where i had previously spotted online what seemed to be a decent guest house on the bank of the Nile.

i had read so many raving comments online about Aswan that my expectations were very high. I know, i always make the same mistake of having expectations. Something i have tried hard to work on throughout my travels. Making more progress each time. But thus far, not very impressive at all. Aside from being on the Nile river, and  with numerous felucca sail boats (parked) all over, and as many huge old cruise boats, Aswan is very a “modern” city. Though i must admit that the giant West bank sand dune where the tombs of the nobles are gives the place quite charm.

i walk a good 20 minutes before i find and hop on the small ferry boat to cross over to the island. Though Aswan is supposed to be a touristy place, i am still being stared at as if i were from a different planet.

I finally step foot on the island. It is right away a totally different vibe. A vibe that instantly makes your face smile. As i am walking through the island, the guest house i had spotted was called Baba Dool and located on the far north-west end of the island, it reminded me soooo much of Gorée island off of the coast of Dakar. Beautiful trees, kids everywhere, bright colorful walls and houses, very old houses, in pour condition for the most part. But jaw dropping little dirt alleys, making a maze through the island, making me want to keep on walking all day. On the east side, you face Aswan and its noise, concrete city infrastructure and pollution. On the west side, all you hear are birds and kids laughs. Two worlds apart. According to the internet, the whole island only has three guest houses (for “adventurous” travellers), and a gigantic gated Movenpick resort (with its own ferry and docs, hence its guests pretty much never wander around the island). So i don't see a single other foreigner on this island.

I finally found, by luck, my guest house. bright colours, but extremely rustic. I love it. And it is run by a Nubian family. The kindest hostesses ever, so happy to interact with foreigners.

The place has one other foreigner. A young british guy named Dominic. Cool guy on his 3rd or 4th month of his 10 month around the world trip. He had never travelled before and decided to start with the Middle East. Rough first leg of his trip given the strong cultural and religious differences.

In order to make the best use of my time, i decided to attend the sound and light show at the famous Philae temple on another island further south.

Quick shower and off i go before sunset. Sun sets at about 5:15pm, and ticket office opens at 6pm, before taking a small boat to get to the temple island. Lucky me i arrived very early, and on time for the sunset. So before buying my ticket, to the surprise of the ticket people and the local guards, i decided to hike up the hill to the small local village behind to try and find a spot to sit down and watch the sun setting over the dam and the whole bay. I get continuous stares as this hill village is definitely not a place anyone would think of going ever. From below it shows no interest whatsoever.

Up there i find this little sandy and clean terrasse, under a beautiful tree, overlooking the whole bay. Could not have found a better panorama spot. But it is a private terrasse. My luck again, as i am approaching, a man comes out of the house. Big smile, and invites me to sit down with him on his old wooden bench under the tree and face the sun set. His name is Saber. His wife brings me a glass of tea while he starts smoking a shisha. He doesn't speak a word of English. We smile. His brother in law, much older, joins us. He speaks decent English. Decent enough to have conversations about world politics, religion, and family. Priceless moment. The kind of moment i live for. The kind of moment that make any trip worth it. Forget about temples, must see places, must eat foods, etc...without such moment, why even travel.

The sun is setting. The moment is perfect. The view is spectacular. The energy magical. I tell them that they are lucky to live in heaven. They must think i am crazy as for them Europe is heaven. I suppose we are both right. After all, heaven is actually a series of moment and what you make of each moment.

Time flies, it is already 6:15pm. I still need to hike my way down, in total darkness, and without any actual trail or steps, buy my ticket and negotiate a boat ride. I am torn, but i have to bid farewell and above all, thank them for the amazing moment.

I sprained my knee on the down. Ouch! I guess my mind was still on that heavenly terrasse. Be conscious of the moment Greg,and focus on your steps!

I found another foreigner (Sudanese guy living in the UK) to join me in negotiating the boat ride.

The ride to the island is really cool. Total darkness, no light. As if trying to approach the island illegally.

The show is not bad. Not amazing, but worth the trip. Actually the series of moments since leaving the guest house make it totally worth it. I initially had no intention to see this temple, but am so grateful that Mr Hakim recommended it.

It has been a very long 24 hours. I am dead beat. Bed time for me. Thank you life.

Egypt Day #3

Day #3: November 6th

I am not a big fan of museums, mostly because only very few try to display the pieces exhibited placing them back into some sort of contextual setting, rather than just on a shelf. Walking quarter steps for hours trying to read and make sense of the little signs under each piece, in between toursist shoulders ain't my cup of tea. But anyhow, it seemed that the Egyptian Museum was an absolute must see. So I went.

The building, pinkish ancient structure is a piece of art in itself. It is at this kind of places that you can gage how many tourists/foreigners are actually in the city at one time. Because Cairo is a 25 million people megalopole, I had not realized that so many tourists were cruising through.

During the whole tour of the museum I couldn't help but wonder why, given how much security they have at both museums and sites like Giza, don't they just put the pieces back to where they originally belong, that way making the sites visit all the more spectacular and contextualized.

The jewels exhibited amazed me. So many intricate little beads of all shapes and colours making incredible arrangements.

The wealth poured into those tumbs, being burried “forever” and not serving any other purpose than assuring infinite wealth to the deceased in the afterlife. Perhaps my limit to polytheism belief as this wealth could have been put to much better use in the present life.

Yes the museum was impressive, more so by the quantity of pieces of all sizes, especially gigantic ones, and mummies, and yes I am happy I went, there were so many pieces of similar design and shape that after a while, the impressiveness kind of vanishes. So I cut it short after three hours. Time to take care of my train ticket for tonight and find lunch.

I wandered through a few travel agencies to inquire about procedures and prices to book train tickets for foreigners. I had heard and read so many diverging stories. I stumble upon this incredibly kind and helpful Mustafa, who deals with ticket bookings for Cairo hotels. He helped me get a ticket at local price. I felt bad because I think I could have probably done the same thing on my own...or at least tried. Oh well...that's the dilemna when travelling for such short period of time...risk taking or time wasting is more of a concern than when travelling with not set return date. (Gosh I miss those!)

I discovered a delicious and cheap authentic place for lunch, Kazaz. One more on my list for next time though I like to venture to new places as often as possible. That one will be a back up just in case.

The sun setting at 5pm is a bit of a pain as it limits quite much the sun light walking time. I had a couple of hours left before dark, so I hopped in Cairo’s Metro to check out the Coptic neighbourhood. The Metro is very clean, plain simple, safe and well organised. I am a strong believer that one cannot know a city if it does not experiment all the available means of public transportation.

Exiting the metro and on to the street, the sight of giant red brick walls surrounding the church's area is incredible. Stunningly beautiful Coptic churches, all made of wood. It made me wonder and laugh at the thought that in a country that has the kind of stone and rock to build pyramids, in a very deserted region, churches were built with wood...while in Europe, where wood is so abundant, churches were built in stone. Just a thought…

The police and army officers all around were super nice. They even managed to give me full accurate directions in French! This neighbourhood is spectacular, I am sure there is way more to see that I actually saw. Hopefully I will get a chance to come back better prepared this time.

“Next door” there is also what is apparently the oldest mosque of the country. Right on time for sunset and right before prayer time. My luck. What a place. Nothing as grand as the mosques in Istanbul, off course, but the energy floating around is really strong, exuding so much history. I will make sure to read about it when I have a moment. The guy at the entrance very well knew I was a foreigner, but greeted me with such a big smile and kind words.

I forgot to mention that though the Coptic area is a touristy spot, it is surrounded by highly militerized blocks cutting it from the rest of the neighbourhood which looks a bit like a ghetto or something like that. To get to the mosque I had to pass the military “check point” and walk a bit outside. What a change of atmosphere. It almost felt like crossing a border between an upscale Paris and a very downscale old mining town. I loved it. Surreal. There, tourist or not, people did not give a damn, they just went about their business.

The guy taking people’s shoes at the entrance of the mosque gave me a big smile and when I told him I came from Morocco, he yelled proudly some Moroccan soccer team name (I think. You know me and soccer).

This whole neighborhood was quite magnetic. I would have loved to come sooner and wander around. But I had to get back home to pick up my bag and head to the train station. Ramses station. Just the name of it makes it sound grand and mysterious. (Have I mentioned how much I find peaceful and strangely stressless the metro ride to be?)

Ramses train station is quite grand. Gorgeous main hall!  They even have an outrageously expensive food court on the top floor...an empty food court. Ha! Lower the prices and it might fill up. Clearly a giant disconnect between train clientele and food court target. 

Egypt, first 3 days of the adventure...

Day #0: November 3rd 2017

Today is when the reality hit me hard...the reality that I am leaving Rabat, leaving the incredible friends I was fortunate enough to make over the past few years, leaving the apartment in which I did not stay that long but which I literally made with my own hands and sweat, and in which I already had so many unforgettable and life changing memories, leaving my incredibly lively and welcoming neighborhood, leaving the numerous streets I so loved to stroll through with my bike, leaving the numerous storks I was so passionate about, leaving the spectacuraly and culturally entertaining sea shore I adored running along at sunset or sunrise...leaving the life I had built after two years and which I finally started feeling comfortable in. But perhaps this is my curse, choosing newness and adventure over comfort and routine. Perhaps one day I will choose the other way around realizing that adventure is conceivable within comfort and settling down. Who knows…? But not today I suppose.

For the past weeks I was consciously trying to be in the present moment, avoiding by all means the anticipated sorrow and nostalgia to come with such a transition. And so I dove into work and into enjoying life as usual.

But today, closing my apartment door, saying good bye to all the  heart building and heart  breaking souvenirs, I slid the keys under the door, and watch my heart shed tears from inside. I am very very very bad with goodbyes. So the only person in the neighborhood I actually told I was leaving was the dry-cleaning guy. The most friendly person of the street. He was happy for me. Then I gave a winter coat and a bag of food with a whole bottle of Grand Marnier to the parking guard downstairs. Ha, not sure he knew what kind of liquor that was, but pretty sure it won't last long. He was already drunk when I gave it to him.

Rabat is a magical city and living where I lived was a magical neighborhood...filled with humanity and selfless kindness.  Morocco has it's goods and bads, lots of both, but one crucial good one sees very quickly when stepping foot on this land is welcoming kindness.

Each of the transition I have made in the past, and I have made several already, has been heart wrentching, but it all worked out for the better in the end, and only made me stronger and grow forward. So I shall embrace this new adventure fully, not conceiling my sorrow for leaving, but not letting it take over the excitement of this new beginning.


Day #1: November 4th

I took a night flight from Casablanca to Cairo, landing at 4:50 in the morning. Though I thought I would arrive dead tired, somehow, the adventure (I have done absolutely zero planning for this trip, and have no expectation) kept me awake. Cairo airport is very clean and quite that early in the morning, so it made for a smooth arrival. Since it was so early, I preferred to wait an extra hour on a bench in order to not wake up my hosting friend Patrick so early on a Saturday (in Egypt Saturdays are like Sundays in Europe) morning. It turned out to be a fantastic decision as when I finally hopped into cab to the city, the sun was half way through sun rise, casting all sorts of fluo orange hues over the city.

I have seen many (polluted) cities in the world...but this is the first time I am actually able to realise and see what color is CO2. As if the entire city had been painted by a cloud of ashes. Sounds nasty and ugly on paper (screen), but with this light and the road being almost empty, my first impression of Cairo was absolutely amazing. Love at first sight. The roofs, the architecture, the balconies, the density...magical! It very much reminds me of a mix between Havana, Istanbul and Bangkok. The whole drive was like driving back through time, back from the past. And the cherry on the cake was when the pyramids popped up in between the buildings as if it were a neighbourhood among many others. A pure welcoming spectacle, keeping me in awe the whole time and soothing my mixed feeling caused by my departure from Rabat. And well, I didnt expect Cairo highway to beat (by far) any US city billboard density.

The neighborhood of Zamalek is surreal. Extremely modern Occidental boutiqes, snacks and restaurants, reminding me very much of Toronto, yet, all glazed with CO2, and immersed in buildings from another era. I just cant wait to venture around in this city. It feels as if I could spend a whole month just walking through the city...but that is not why I came here...at least not on this trip. First, venturing south, trekking, Nile cruising, and scuba diving. But I will make sure to save a bit of time for this open sky city wide live museum. Though I won't start before I check out the Giza pyramids and the Cairo museum. The frustrating thing is that the sun sets at 5pm these days, and thus all tourist sites close at 4pm. So that means two days to do these sites if I want to take my time and soak it in well. :)

While looking for the right address, the cab driver stops at a snack/hole in the wall breakfast place...it is about 6:30 in the morning, and already half a dozen men are drinking coffee and smoking shisha! Really?! That early!?

After a morning nap, Patrick took me to Sequoya restaurant, a high end brunch place on the bank of the Nile. As he stepped inside the place, he was greeted like a prince. The best date juice ever. One of the waiter asked me where I was from by asking if I were Egyptian, he asked me whether I was from Marrakech or from Mexico. Hahahahaha! So absurd and funny. But instinctively, I cought myself saying I was from Morocco. :0). And so I decided that for the rest of my trip, that's what I would say. Perhaps a better option if I am ever to stumble upon any dangerous situation.

Today was dedicated to catching up with Patrick, and walking through the neighbourhood a bit before heading to have a pic nic with his Egyptian  a god family on his farm/guest house project in front of the Dahshour pyramids...what a place...square plantations as far as the eye can see through what is the most palm tree forest I have ever seen. Breath taking walk with the kids through the palms and little villages as the sun is setting and the farmers are getting back home with the family and animals.

The way back, at night, is not only when fatigue hit me hard but also when Cairo’s reputation for insane traffic materialized before my eyes. As insane and dense as Dhaka’s traffic, yet strangely fascinating.

What a day!

Day #2: November 5th

Patrick took off to Alexandria at 6 this morning, so I am on my own until pretty much Thanksgiving, November 23rd, where I will do my best to make it back to Cairo for another round of catching with Patrick, see the kids, and dig much much deeper into Cairo for my last two day.

Quick shower, some bananas and pomegranate, and am out the door by 8:15. On my way to the Giza pyramids. They have always been such a mysterious place in my mind. Something you see in books and on TV, but not real. Mythological fiction of some sort.

So I hop into a cab and tell the driver “Giza”. And off we go. After a while, still no pyramids, am getting concerned. Funny (or not) enough, the day I left Morocco, I read an article saying that Casablanca ranked #2 most dangerous city in North Africa, right behind...Cairo. It made me laugh (just hoping my mom did not read the same article) as any city in the world could get similar ranking depending on what factors we base it. And well, we get to some micro bus terminal and the guy tells me we have arrived. Hmm...still no pyramids. Just how many Giza can there be in the one city in the world known mostly for it's Giza pyramids?! I write it down for him on a piece of paper. I even draw a perspective 3D view of a pyramid. I mime it with my hands. Nada. We hell a cop on the side for assistance. Same scenario. Nada. Finally an English speaker passer by helps out. Problem solved. Well...it so happens that Giza is the name of the neighbourhoods and not the pyramids. And it so happens that in Arabic, the word pyramid does not ring any bells at all. Pyramid in Arabic is Haram.

This incident was such a tremendous sociology eye openner. The driver clearly knew I was a foreigner. My little Darija is pretty useless here, and haven't had time to brush up on my Fus’ha, so I tend to revert to English quite often. And so despite him knowing I am a foreigner, and me asking to go to Giza, he not once figured out I wanted to go see the pyramids, but rather assumed I wanted to go where any Egyptian ask for Giza would go. My drawing of the pyramid is highly accurate, but even that he couldn't figure out. Clearly what seems obvious for one is not necessarily for another. And well, in a city like Cairo, a cab driver prefers to not make any wrong destination assumption. Smart of them. (Gosh it feels so good to be in a city where taxis actually stop, greet you, ask you where you want to go, and take you there using their meter or quoting you the right price. What a change with Morocco!)

So we finally make it to the entrance of the site. Got tricked by a guy pretending to not be a guide but an official just helping out with information. Turned out he wanted to sell me a horse cart ride. He didn't seem to be happy not believe me when I told him I loved to walk, especially in the desert. Got mad a d told me to go. So I went. Hehe! Getting to the site was a bit overwhelming given the immensity of it all, and so I really didn't want to get bothered by false guides nor have someone on my back all the time. I just wanted the pyramid, the desert, peace and quiet, and soak it in. Lucky me, the site was so huge that it was easy to walk away from tourist. A young boy, Ali, and his horse Baraka managed to tricked my compassion for his kindness and sincerely, and so I did do a short horse cart ride. Very nice and polite guy. Short ride and off I went on my own again. I just wanted to walk away from the pyramid and get an overall view from afar, sit down on the sand and do a sort of fly-to-the-past-with-open-eyes meditation. Such site is clearly fascinating, but what fascinates and catalyses my dreams and interest is the envision the living condition of those days, try and picture through the overall site, what it was like.

I am still too close, I want to walk further atop a hill. On my way I get met up by this police/official guard in uniform sitting on top of this beautiful and muscular white dromadary (it always surprises me how most people ignore the fact that there are no camels in Africa, but rather dromadary. One hump for dromadary and two humps for camels). He seemed to try and tell me that it was not allowed to walk that far away from the site. (With the regional political/religious unrest due to ISIS presence in the country, I try not to question too much such safety measure). The guy, Ramadan, is super nice. I tell him that I don't want the tourist panorama point where hundreds of tourists are gathered all day long. I want peace and quiet on this other hill. He gets off his dromadary (Antonio!) to chat, and most amazingly and surprisingly, to show me panorama shots, and wait for it...he takes my camera, steps back and directs me on pauses to take. Hillarious moment! I took some shot of him shooting me...funniest thing is that his dromadary was making the same pause he was while taking the shots. We have a good laugh as he can't seem to be satisfied with a jumping ahot he is trying to capture. And then we sit for a while, somehow communicating with smiles, noises, mimes, and sounds. The usual language of human kindness.

I felt glued to this site. It's grandeur is so impressive. In my mind it makes no doubt that it were humans who built those pyramids. No way!

Walking down to see the Sphynx and the main paved cause ways that were used to assemble all the granite stoned together are breath taking.

Can you imagine having these pyramids in your backyard? I mean, in a relatively modern city in the year 2017, having Giza pyramids coming out of the subway station from work, or by the dog park, or as you are drying your laundry on your balcony...I suppose a lower class Egyptian would say the same about Manhattan’s skyscrapers.

I spent the rest of the afternoon walking around Tahrhir Square and Talat Habr. The square in itself is not interesting other than being the Central point of the last revolution. But it’s neighbourhood, filled with life, culture, boutiques, street foods, cafes, etc...I love it. Not a sign in English. All in Arabic, and barely any foreigners here. Perfect.

I buy my ticket to this Egyptian short film screening for later on, and keep walking around. As the sun sets, the ambiance changes as well, more people come out, men and women, As if we were in a mix of Europe and middle East. Find the most authentic traditional Kushari place. Eat. And back to cinema for the screening. Well worth it's Oscar’s nominations. Strong and contemporary. Bravo!

For the way back to Zamalek I wanted to walk back through the night and see the night scene, both along the Nile and the inside streets. Hmm...I walk and walk and walk, getting lost and finding my ways again. Amazed to see that even the darkest of alleys are safe. Women walk alone of with other female friends, veiled or not, on their own, and without being troubled not even once, by men. Not a single whistle or tsss tsss. In that sense, it feels like the most advanced of European cities compared to Morocco.

The banks of the Nile have all sorts of boats with so many colourful lights they look like horizontal floating Christmas trees.

The walk back home was very long as apparently I managed to take a wrong turn at some point and ended up on the other side of the island without even noticing it. I suppose I was way to focused on observing everything that was happening.

I spent a bit of time today thinking about the fact that such a very strongly monotheistic country is pulling all of it's tourism business and pride from what was perhaps the most polythesitic era of human kind. It amazes me, and also makes me realize that such polytheism would please me quite much. Like many other ethnicities in the word went through back then, praising the goods of rain, water, food, nature, animals, etc…in other words, respecting just about any natural and living thing on the planet. The opposite of what we have been doing since the start of monothesit, isn't it?

Why is polytheism wrong? Why did religious movements and more importantly their followers switch from poly to mono? In a strange way that's what agriculture has done as well. Monoculture today is ruining our planet and our environment...when nature preaches polyculture.