egypt – Adrian's Got The Moose

Valley of the Kings: Part I

Due to the Valley of the Kings being on the West Bank of the Nile, opposite to the modern city of Luxor, visiting the Valley under my own steam, short of hiring a car, seemed impossible. Against my usual nature, I decided to book a tour through my hotel.

Shortly after eight o’clock, I was picked up in a mini-bus, with one other client on board, and proceeded to pick up another to the north of my hotel. One South African who works on oil rigs, and one Englishman, a tradie from Bristol. With the addition of myself, an agreeable bunch who immediately formed a pact with the tour guide as our enemy.

At the Valley of the Kings ticket office, an expansive and soulless building, which was still much more impressive than the simple ticket booths at Giza. Our guide directed us to the automated kiosks, rather than to fight for a position in the queues for a human. Here, we discovered that the minimal entry ticket only provided access to a handful of the least interesting tombs in the Valley. This is how the Egyptian Government keeps these sites as a massive cash cow. With our guide’s dubious advice, I chose three add-on tombs. Later, I made the mistake of checking my bank app for the transaction; I could have stayed in a luxury accommodation anywhere in Egypt outside of Cairo for a few nights for less than that figure.

Heading through the turnstiles and battling through the hordes of people who thought nothing of standing in front and immediately behind them, we were hit up for 30 EGP for a ride to the main entrance via those extended-cab gold carts so beloved by governments the world over. The driver also made a stringent attempt for backsheesh at the end of this two-minute trip, which I pretended to not hear. While this did save us a walk, uphill and in the sun, it was still irritating.

After the main entrance, our guide bustled us past the covered market with warnings about how aggressive the sellers are. Then we were set loose, with the announcement that we would have forty-five minutes in the Valley of the Kings. This is one of the reasons I avoid tours; entirely unreasonable time restraints.

During the New Kingdom, the Pharaohs made an observation that building massive tombs in the shape of pyramids did nothing but advertise where all that sweet loot was piled up, and that a more subtle approach was needed. Thus, to the West of the Nile and the ancient city of Thebes, a wadi was reserved for the burial of the royals. The idea being that once the tombs were sealed, no one would know that gold, silver, and gems equivalent to multiple years of Ancient Egypt’s GDP was hidden behind the stone. Of course, it was all for naught, as all but one of the tombs were looted before the end of the Twentieth Dynasty, most of them within years of the pharaoh’s death, at least sometimes with the consent of the new pharaoh, with him or her taking a cut. I suspect that the suggestion that Pharaohs not be interred with so much wealth was never stated by anyone wishing to keep their head attached to their bodies.

Impossible to take a pic of the entire valley.

The first, and most impressive tomb I visited was KV 17, the former home of Seti I, son of Rameses I. He was most notable for his military campaigns, especially into Libya and the Levant. KV17 is famous for its decorated walls.

While the whole tomb was stunning, I was greatly drawn to a depiction from The Book of the Heavenly Cow, which I will pretend I knew all about before I visited this tomb.

The tomb was very crowded, with hordes of Americans, Germans, and (sigh) Australians getting in my way at every turn.

The blue on the ceiling! Astrological depictions.

To be continued…

Leaving Alexandria

Having spent fruitless time and megabytes attempting to book a bus ticket to Luxor without having to book out an entire bus, I decided to wing it and do things the old school way. I arose at seven, dumping my room keys at the reception and took an Uber to the local microbus station.

The driver drove past the station two hundred metres before dropping me off, not quite believing this white guy was not on a tour. When I walked uphill to the train station, with help from a staff member at a nearby coffee shop, I discovered that no microbuses were heading to Luxor, but I could get one to Cairo, which I was trying to avoid, and then find something to Luxor. I hopped on the bus, which was nearly empty, and waited.

The deal with these decidedly tourist-unfriendly buses is that they leave when full, not to any schedule known to man or gods. I have been told you can pay for the empty seats to leave quickly, but I have never been asked to do this, and the suggestion seems to go against the whole principle of the situation. The fare must be paid in cash, and is handed to either the driver’s offsider or an elder customer acting as trip treasurer. This leaves the driver free to talk on the phone, honk his horn, and generally make life unpleasant for other road users.

This time, it took an hour for the bus to fill up, and as usual, I was the only Westerner on board, which made me happy. I paid 160 EGP for this uncomfortable trip, with my duffel bag shoved under my seat- they are not really set up for large amounts of luggage, but it didn’t seem like I was asked to pay extra- which was virtually nothing compared to the 500 EGP I was charged for shorter trips on Gobus coaches. I arrived in Cairo just before noon, which turned out to be the dusty lot I left Cairo from. Due to a confusing series of events, I walked in traffic to another station to buy a ticket to Luxor, which ended up being a Gobus service, leaving from the dusty lot of just walked from, leaving in six hours. The staff member assumed I was a rich American and sold me some kind of deluxe VIP ticket. I took an Uber back to where the bus was leaving, and left my bag there (another 50 EGP). From there I walked, had a very Western lunch, then a more traditional coffee on Meret Basha, overlooking the Ritz Carlton. Next to the Ritz was the old Egyptian Museum, formerly the grand jewel holding the majority of the Ancient Egyptian artifacts. Now it’s dusty and has been eclipsed by the brand new and very sexy Grand Egyptian Museum in Giza. Regardless, I was close and had time to kill, so I crossed multiple lanes of chaotic traffic, passed through security measures more stringent than most airports, paid the fee, and avoided the offer of a guide, and entered.

It’s still worth a look and displays some mummified remains and smaller artifacts. Additionally, the building itself has its own old-world charm.

Main Atrium, featuring King Amenhotep III and Queen Tiye.

During my visit, the place was somehow busier than the GEM during my visit, and I only stayed an hour, concerned I was going to be swept up in a tour group and suffer an existential crisis. I didn’t take many photos, but I did like this Sphinx depicting Hatshepsut, a female pharaoh from the Eighteenth Dynasty.

Crossing the roads again, I made the mistake of buying some mints from a gentleman sitting against a tree, and another man struck up a conversation, and next thing I knew, I was drinking coffee around the corner with him. I knew it was part of a sales pitch, but the path of least resistance led me to go along with it. After coffee and a chat, he led me to his handicrafts and perfume store, and I managed to leave without buying anything, but I did promise I would come back when I am back in Cairo.

When I returned to the bus company office and was reunited with my bag, I walked back over to the dusty lot that served as the overflow bus station where the bus was leaving. This is why I usually avoid expensive bus rides. They typically end up being much like the cheaper ones. The bus, once I was able to board, was very nice, with an LCD screen in front of me in case I wanted to watch any Arabic TV, a USB port for charging (yay), and a very comfortable reclining seat. I was also offered snacks, coffee or tea, and a bottle of water. I slept on and off for the entire trip, read and watched YouTube videos, and wished I had the budget for my internal flights.

At 2 am, the bus attendant woke me as we stopped at Luxor. I gathered my things and acted dumb as a different attendant tried to get a tip out of me for taking my bag out of the bus. I stumbled in the vague direction of my hotel. The first half of this walk I had to fend off the increasingly desperate taxi drivers. In the second half of the walk I had to convince someone walking with his family that I really didn’t want to book a tour while half-asleep.

Mosque I spotted, the only well-lit building at that time.

Luckily, my host was awake, and, showing an incredibly non-Egyptian pragmatism, simply grabbed my bag, showed me to my room, and left me to dream of puppies and maniac pixie dream girls.

Alluring Alexandria Part III

The next day I embarked to visit some of Alexandria’s lesser known sites. The first being Kom El Deka, more commonly called the Ancient Roman Theatre. The area was an upper-class residential area in the first to third century CE, by the fourth to seventh century it was much changed, and featured numerous public facilities, such as the theatre and a bathhouse.

Ancient Roman Theatre, modern neighbourhood in the background.

Oddly, I soon discovered statues and blocks of stone that appeared to be have been part of the lighthouse, and transported from the ocean floor to here.

Tucked into the corner of the site was a partially restored villa, which contained several amazing mosaics and decorations.

After a lap around, there was nothing further to keep me here, and I was about to leave when a machine-gun-wielding policeman offered me a cup of tea, that I accepted. We had a nice chat, and while he declined payment for the tea, he immediately hit me up to exchange some USD for Egyptian Pounds. Caught, I complied and made a mental note to be more careful about this in the future.

I kept my promise of not posting this on Facebook.

Next I visited the Catacombs of Kom El Shoqufa. Believed to have been created in the second century CE for a single family, it was expanded greatly for unknown reasons. It was rediscovered in 1900 when a donkey fell through a shaft-perhaps considering the way animals are treated, it was a deliberate act of protest. The catacombs consist of three levels, multiple chambers, and two large circular shafts that may have been used to lower the deceased into the catacombs.

shaft with a staircase wrapping around it

Many of the corridors and chambers feature simple stone ledges for a body to be laid to rest.

The main drawcard here is an elaborate chamber, perhaps the original families, featuring ornate carvings, and a blend of Roman, Ancient Egyptian and Greek art styles. Between the hordes of tourists and the limited ability of my phone, I struggled to document this chamber, so I will include this one from Wikipedia.

The catacombs also featured benches where mourners could sit and rest, and perhaps even eat meals close to their deceased loved ones, something that would seem very odd to modern Western eyes, but I suspect was very normal in the ancient world.

There were many impressive carvings, but I was drawn to this statue, perhaps carved in place, which is considered by some to be the original owner of the catacombs.

Of course, without a guide, many features were not clear to me, which is something I should be used to by now, but is still frustrating.

Perhaps a font for holy water? Did the Romans even do that?

Once I was sick of bumping into my fellow tourists and trying to suppress the urge to hum the Indiana Jones theme, I made my way back to the surface, and took a few pics of the sarcophagi outside, and went for a walk.

Could you imagine having to move that around?

Alluring Alexandria

The first thing I noticed on the Uber ride from the bus station to my hotel was the considerable number of medical supply shops. The next was the women. I had gotten used to 99% of Egyptian women wearing headscarves, and often the full hijab, with some covering even their eyes with black cloth, leading to them walking into the kind of people they wanted to be isolated from. Now, I was seeing at least half the women with fully exposed heads of perfect hair. If I were a poet, this would have caused me to write pages and pages of overwrought, terrible verses.

As it was, I almost gave myself whiplash. My tired brain finally put it all together after a quick Google search; Alexandria is host to numerous universities, including at least one exclusively for both medicine and dentistry. I suspect that very few women embarking on such studies were willing to submit to society and religious pressure. Later, while walking towards the ocean, I discovered the Egyptian version of punks in a small group of mixed sex youths (itself unusual), which also made me very happy.

Alexandria, founded by its namesake Alexander the Great in 331 BCE, is famous for two great structures- The Lighthouse of Alexandria and the Great Library of Alexandria. I was, of course, centuries too late to visit either of them. Screwed by my birthday again.

The Lighthouse of Alexandria was built in the third century BCE and was one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. It was damaged by a series of earthquakes a thousand years ago, with much of the lighthouse ending up in the Mediterranean Sea.

By Philip Galle – https://artsandculture.google.com/asset/vuurtoren-van-alexandri%C3%AB-galle-philips/xQG_r1IGU9hKEw, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=116950381

In 1480, the remainder of the lighthouse was used to build the Qaitbay Citadel, on the same site. Qaitbay Citadel was built by the Sultan of Egypt by the same name to defend the harbour of Alexandria, at the time having extreme military importance. It changed hands a number of times, and left in ruins after the British made a pointless and misguided attack.

The Citadel has been rebuilt, renovated and then restored, with 1984 being the restoration to its current state.

Qaitbay Citadel, from the main car park.

My camera took this oportunity to die entirely here, so all my photos here on in are from my phone. While I have no idea how historically accurate the restoration was, I was impressed how light and airy much of the fort was on the inside.

In one second floor corner, a monitor is set up playing footage about the Lighthouse of Alexandria, and efforts to document the remains.

Cleaning ladies pointed me towards good areas to take photos, in an effort to get baksheesh from me, which I have to say was successful as at least they were pleasant about it.

From the highest points I could not help but try to imagine how incredible it would have been from the top of the Lighthouse, and the sheer majesty of such an endeavor. Now when we conduct public works they tend to feel sterile, replaceable and generic, instead of the stuff of legends.

Things to do in Siwa when you are Sober part II

The next day, I made the mistake of spending ten minutes arguing with a tuk-tuk driver to take me to the actual oasis of Siwa. Note to self, never engage the services of anyone wearing Tommy Hilfiger, they have an excessively high opinion of the value of their services. The driver dropped me off near a closed cafe on a causeway through the oasis, and while the landscape had an undeniable desolate beauty, the oasis is huge, and any plan to walk around it was pointless.

I half expected to see human bones roadside.

There was no vegetation to offer shelter from the sun anywhere in sight, and very little of anything else. I suddenly felt very foolish as I took a few photos and started walking back towards town. Luckily ten minutes later, a couple in a late-model Toyota Land Cruiser pulled up, and I managed to bag a lift. I jumped in the backseat, and while the couple, several social and economic levels above anyone I had interacted with in Egypt so far, chatted to themselves in Arabic that seemed more melodic than the Egyptian dialect, I tried to look non-threatening and not sweat on their leather seats. They dropped me off in town near the mosque, and I didn’t insult them by offering payment, but did thank them profusely and shake hands with them before we went our separate ways.

After a few iced coffees and a light lunch at a nearby cafe, I realised there was only one thing I really needed to see in Siwa before moving on.

Shortly after I arrived at Siwa, I spotted a partially ruined fort on the hill overlooking the mosque, and I was immediately intrigued.

From where I started, Google Maps led me through a rubbish-strewn alley, along a loose wall of bricks, then advice from a traditionally-garbed man led me through an abandoned home and another alley. I squeezed past some parked motorbikes and unceremoniously dumped myself in an alleyway I was in on my first night in Siwa, which I could have simply walked to from where I had dinner the night before. Stairs hewn into the bedrock led me uphill, and to the ancient mosque, the only part of the fort still in official use.

While I didn’t see anyone around, it didn’t seem like the kind of place people would have liked me poking around, especially considering my complete lack of Arabic, so I continued uphill.

Amongst the ruins, I spotted walled sections that seemed to feature either toilets or small wells, along with a small handful of buildings that were either very small homes or storage rooms, which showed signs of use and upkeep.

But who would bother with plants in a place they were using for storage?

Finally, after scrabbling up worn steps and avoiding an incredibly attractive couple making out while taking selfies, I reached the top.

Shali Fortress was built in the twelfth century by Siwi Berbers to defend against the Bedouins. It was constructed from kercheif, a mixture of rock salt and clay. The walls survived many attacks and the passage of time until three days of rain in 1926 caused considerable damage. In 2018, locals, many of the descendants of the original Berbers, partially rebuilt the fortress.

By the time I reached the top, my camera was starting to have issues, so I only have a few phone pics to show for my trouble. I could not help but think about how many people lived and died defending this fort. I suspect I only scratched the surface of the history of this place, and would dearly love to find some books written on the subject. Sadly, I struggled to find a path down to what I thought of as the town square of the fort. I could have done with a guide.

Travellers Tales: The Sphinx

I left my home during a solar eclipse. I crossed forests and rivers, mountain passes and glaciers. I shared meals with princes and beggars, shared fires with soldiers and priestesses. When I reached a great desert, I drank tea with a Bedouin and traded my watch for his camel. He had no need to know the time, but he liked the way it caught the desert sun on his wrist.

I named the camel Daisy and rode him for countless days, until he expired on the edge of an oasis. I buried him and drank my fill, then continued on for countless more days.

When I knew I could walk no more, I looked up and saw the Sphinx, and fell to my knees.

“Oh Great Sphinx, which way should I go?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, cracking with thirst.

The Sphinx yawned, stretched his great paws, and looked down at me balefully and spoke.”Where do you want to go?” His voice was like granite boulders rolling down a mountain, in no particular hurry.

“I don’t know,” I said, knowing I would be crying if I had the water to spare.

“Then it doesn’t matter.” The Sphinx replied.

Confused, I asked, “Wait, didn’t you steal that straight from Alice in Wonderland? “

The Sphinx yawned again and stated, “You try being original for five millennia, then we can talk about plagiarism.” The Sphinx closed his eyes and began gently snoring.

“You were a big help,” I muttered darkly. I stood up, swaying in the desert wind, turned around, and started for home.

Pyramids and Poop

There are three things I need you to understand about the Pyramids of Giza.

It doesn’t matter how many photos, videos, blog posts, articles, and documentaries you have consumed about this place; nothing will prepare you for just how impressive they are in person.
Every bit of statue, carving, every sarcophagus, every column, every obelisk that can be dragged away and taken to a museum or private collection has been. This leads to visiting the Pyramids to be a stark experience, devoid of context.
You cannot escape the overwhelming miasma of horse and camel shit.

After managing to avoid my Uber driver’s efforts to have a tour through his brother-in-law’s, fighting my way through the touts, and paying the exorbitant entry fee, I passed through the security as if I was some dubious English lord looking for a nice piece to hang over his mantle, and was let loose inside the Giza Necropolis.

Just past the gate was a modest pavilion, and I stopped there to apply sunscreen to my delicate skin. This is where I saw my first glimpse of the Sphinx.

You kind of have to squint to see it, unlike the sunscreen on my nose.

The way to the Sphinx was unclear, which I suspect was on purpose, so I walked uphill to the tomb of Meresankh III, Queen and wife of Khafre.

It was a comparatively modest structure that I enjoyed exploring despite various touts yelling at me at all times.

I moved on to the Great Pyramid of Giza.

Correctly known as the Pyramid of Khufu, it has lost eight metres of its height due to the pillaging of its limestone shell, but the one hundred and thirty-eight metres left was still enough to leave me dumbfounded. This colossal structure was the largest man-made building for three and a half millennia. Even with access to modern trucks, cranes, loaders, and diamond-tipped saws, the logistics to recreate it today would be staggering. It’s also the only one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World still standing to this day. After walking around the pyramid and taking in its majesty, I moved on to the Pyramid of Khafre.

The middle-sized of the Great Pyramids, it’s perhaps the most striking of the three due to the limestone cap that still remains to this day. Here I could have paid extra to go inside, but my claustrophobia and early-trip cheapness prevented me from taking advantage of this.

The third of the Great Pyramids is the very much reduced Pyramid of Menkaure.

It stands at sixty-one metres high today. The large vertical gash is the result of the Sultan of Egypt’s efforts to demolish it; luckily, after eight months, this act of vandalism was abandoned.

By now, I was getting worn out and baked in the sun, and I followed a group of tourists who seemed to be walking with confidence, hoping they would lead me to the Sphinx.

Too many horses, not enough people willing to ignore their condition.

This area seemed to be where the freelance horse carriage operators congregate, away from the Great Pyramid scammer bros. I managed to find the entrance to the Sphinx, which was through the Valley Temple of Khafre, who was also one of the suspected builders of the Sphinx.

Once I made my way through the temple, I climbed a causeway with a view of the Sphinx, which is the closest one can get without bribing a guard or jumping a fence.

Standing taller than the nearby Pyramid of Menkaure, the Great Sphinx of Giza (It’s certainly not the only one; it’s a common motif) has been the stuff of legends since it was carved from the bedrock over four thousand years ago. I grew up reading fairy tales featuring this enigmatic statue. Including ones where the statue is alive and poses riddles to weary supplicants.

I managed to hold off on taking a selfie snogging this ancient monument, which at least placed me in the minority of the crowd on that day. He or she deserves more respect than that. I sat on the stone wall lining the causeway for a few minutes, simply soaking up the view as much as I could while tourists milled around me, taking photos from every available angle.

Great Spinx of Giza, with the Great Pyramid of Giza in the background.

Chaotic Cairo Part II

After Tokyo, Cairo was a shock. No matter how crowded the train, street or shop, there was a certain minimal elegance to the behaviour of the crowd. If someone had to step on your toes, there would at least be an apologetic shrug. In Cairo, it was a much more dog-eat-dog attitude. An Egyptian will think nothing of stopping in the middle of the street to chat to a friend who is already half blocking all the pedestrian traffic. Foot traffic is often already being made harder by street vendors setting out their goods on the ground. A four-lane road will often be reduced to a single lane due to people parking on the road, usually blocking other cars in. Queuing for a toilet or to be served at a corner store, I would have people step right in front of me as if I had suddenly been rendered invisible. I made the mistake of visiting the largest and most famous market in Cairo, Khan el Khalili, and was almost injured numerous times as large motorbikes rode down tiny lanes as fast as possible. After walking around like that for an hour, I never even came close to starting to buy anything, which seemed to be a common theme. Silence is entirely unknown here, with constant car horns, constant yelling, and constant loud music. At some point, I gave up buying goods from corner stores, as the prices for my goods seemed to be twice or three times what they should be.

This is not to say I didn’t have pleasant moments. A perfume seller on the street gave me excellent directions to my hotel when I first landed. A head-scarved lady with startling blue eyes offered me some confectionery while she waited for her friend buying some costume jewellery from a street vendor. A dark-skinned lady told me I “said no beautifully” when I declined her offer of a henna tattoo before continuing on her way.