history – 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…

Alluring Alexandria Part IV

After the congestion of the catacombs, I decided I would simply walk the streets for a while. I stopped ten minutes later at a coffee shop. The place clearly didn’t see many tourists, but the lovely staff member knew enough English to understand coffee, little sugar, and I enjoyed myself, watching the other customers play backgammon and pass the time.

“What’s that creepy white dude doing here? “Never mind that, it’s your turn”

After a few chapters of Ian Fleming, I continued to walk, with the vague aid of Google Maps, towards the Mediterranean Sea. Purely by accident, Google sent me to Saint Mark’s Cathedral, and I decided to have a look. I went through a metal detector, and then was approached by a policeman who asked for my passport. After a cursory check (Australian? Yes) I was informed I could collect my passport when I left. Nervously- never like having my passport out of sight or not locked away- I continued on through another metal detector in case I managed to acquire a weapon in the last fifteen seconds, and entered the secure compound.

A nearby wall explained all the security. 9th of April 2017, an ISIS suicide bomber fufilled his title at the cathedral- the seat of the Pope of Alexandria, head of the Coptic Orthodox Church- killing seventeen and wounding forty-eight, as part of the Palm Sunday Church Bombings.

Largely understated explanation compared to the security presence.

A pretty alleyway featured a display explaining the pilgrimages of Saint Mark, and I took delight in knowing I had been to some of these places in my own travels. Considering that Saint Mark was born in what is now Libya, travelling to places such as the Holy Land, modern Jordan, and Turkiye would have been a considerable undertaking.

I had a quick look in the cathedral, which like most modern churches, I didn’t find particularly interesting. But I did put the US dollars the police officer foisted on me in their collection box, thinking that the Copts would have solid arrangements to take advantage of international currencies.

Modern churches tend to all look the same to me.

On the way out and collecting my passport, I had a good chat with the police officer about the bombings and the security. I shook his hand and told him I hope he always gets home safe. It was a nice moment of sincerity.

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 Part II

The Great Library of Alexandria was one of the greatest centres of learning in antiquity, and scholars from every corner of the known world in the second and third centuries BCE made pilgrimages to study there. While history still lists some of the head librarians and some of the manuscripts that were held there, the actual site of the library is unknown. The importance and the contents of the library had been in decline for years before the supposed destruction by Julius Caesar in 48 BCE. Now, only the legend remains, which may be more interesting than the real history.

AI prompt was “Dusty library filled with scrolls with a creepy gnome wanking”

With the lack of concrete facts, and considering the remains of the Great Library of Alexandria could easily now have a Starbucks built on top of it (it’s a nice Starbucks, filled with pretty medical students when I visited), the Bibliotheca Alexandrina is much more a spiritual than a practical one, but it’s very impressive nonetheless.

By Shivani Singh04 – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=81243664

The library was officially opened in 2002, at a cost of two hundred million USD. Its main reading room sprawls over eleven levels and covers twenty thousand square metres.

In addition to its main library, it contains six specialised collections, including one specifically containing Braille books. Even forgetting about the books, the Bibliotecha is home to nineteen art galleries, a planetarium, a conference centre, two gift shops, two cafes, and a restaurant.

I accepted the offer of a free tour, where a stunning woman walked us through areas and explained that for a fee equivalent to two coffees, an Egyptian student can gain access to all this, in addition to internet access, catalog access, study space, and more. She explained the symbolic aspects of the architecture and answered our questions faultlessly. Her (I neglected to jot down here name) delivery was a masterclass in public speaking and interpretation, and I wished I had a tenth of her ability. I was also incredibly smitten.

I couldn’t help but think what a balancing act these incredible, smart, and beautiful women working here must perform. Trying to keep to an authentic and self-determined life, working in such a modern institute of learning, while living in a culture that insists on a tradition of women being dependent on the men in their lives. All I could do was thank her for the tour and walk away.

On the way out, numerous security types and police seemed to be milling around, waiting, and so I waited to see what would happen. Soon, a convoy of conference attendees exited the grounds in chauffeured Mercedes and BMWs, while police shut down traffic outside the library to allow them to stay together with their escorts.

View this post on Instagram

After a quick stop at a cafe for coffee and journalling, I discovered a small group of young ladies selling stickers. After walking past them I doubled back to buy some stickers and have a chat. 50 Egyptian pounds later, I asked if I could get a photo, which they were good-natured enough to consent to, with one of them offering to take the photo.

When I looked back at the photo, I said “Awwww, beautiful Egyptian ladies” which seemed to make them very happy as I said thank you and departed.

One day, when these amazing Egyptian women become a powerful force in Egyptian politics, Egypt will experience a rapid improvement for all its people.

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.