Basking in Glory, Baking the Sun

28.03.2018 - 28.03.2018 

 

The previous day, Friday had spoken to us about a couple of additional activities we might want to book. The first was a hot-air balloon ride at Luxor, to watch the sun rise over the Valley of the Kings. We'd heard about the rides but hadn't much considered it, but when speaking to others on our group, so many had heard such incredibly positive reports that we elected to sign up. Well, all of us except for Barbara -- who is afraid of heights -- signed up. It meant, however, that we would have to leave the ship at 4:30am. Neither of the girls hesitated upon hearing that, but K and I shared a knowing look when we heard that our wake-up call would be 4:00am. That said, I jumped in the shower as soon as the phone rang and all four of us were in the lobby, along with Oliver and the French family, who had also signed up. We were met by a representative of a local company, who walked us off of our ship and next door, to board a long launch boat -- one of the many ferries that routinely run people from one side of Luxor over to the other. In fact, there is no bridge linking the two banks of the Nile in Luxor, so boat and ferry are the only options. There were about three launches, all moored side-by-side, and again we boarded by walking through one boat to reach the other. The other half of our boat was filled with Chinese tourists, as were both of the other two boats. Our ship had provided us with boxed breakfasts, which we picked through while they served us tea and coffee. We waited in the boat for about 30 minutes, while we filled out liability and safety forms. The sky was just beginning to lighten and none of the boats had left for the far shore. The mother of the French family, who had already proven to be a very opinionated (and even rude) person, started to demand to know why we weren't moving. She was told we were waiting for another group, which set her off. She started to lecture the man on etiquette, and to say, "If I can get up this early, others can too, and if they can't be on time, then they should be ashamed of themselves." She kept going on and on, to which her teenage son finally told her to "shut your mouth." I won't go into the details, but this particular family was wacky. The mom was extreme and the son was strange himself, and he repeatedly berated his mother while the dad was oblivious. It was not a good dynamic to witness. Nonetheless, Oliver put it most succinctly when he whispered to us, "she's saying exactly what you and I are thinking, but don't have the bollocks to say." The others arrived and we were off. On the far side we boarded a mini-bus which drove us about five minutes to a large field where there were maybe half a dozen un-inflated balloons spread out in front of immense baskets. The sky continued to brighten and the representative explained to us that the aviation ministry has to grant permission before any balloons can fly. They apply the same requirements for balloons as they do for aircraft, and they require five miles of visibility to be cleared for flight. Right now, visibility was four miles. Each balloon was operated by a different company, and all of them had men standing anxiously outside a small trailer where the ministry rep was speaking to weather personnel at the airport. Our French woman was beside herself at this point, lecturing to any poor soul in earshot about how unacceptable this was. The company representative, who was tired of being yelled at by the French mom, stayed close to Oliver and us, and confided how challenging it has been working with the aviation authorities. Evidently there was a balloon crash in Luxor last year, in which several people died. That balloon was unregulated and had gone up on its own, but still they cracked down and imposed the tighter restrictions on when balloons can launch. The representative told us that each time they cancel, they lose all their revenue, and even lose money they spent on bringing folks over, driving them, etc. By now the sun had already risen above the palm trees, but we were still hopeful for clearance. Only a few minutes later, we all heard the phone ring in the trailer, and then a man stepped onto the platform and raised his arms in a big "x," to indicate that all flights were off for the day. We were all disappointed, but there was nothing we could do. We immediately put our name on the list to try again the following morning. Meanwhile, the French woman had worked herself into a fit and now even her own family was avoiding her, as best they could.

Leaving the Ship at 4:30am

As our main tourist area for the day was to be the sights on this, the west bank of the Nile, our original plan had been to meet up with the rest of our tour group after the balloon ride. With that cancelled, we drove back to the dock, crossed back over the river, and joined up with the group -- including Barbara -- finishing up their breakfast. We then pretty much turned right back around and got back into a launch to recross the river.

Crossing Over After Aborted Balloon Attempt

A waiting mini-bus on the other side took us to our first quick stop, the Colossi of Memnon, which had only been unearthed in the last five years or so. Then it was to the main goal, the Valley of the Kings, where the majority of Egyptian pharaohs were buried. It was before 9:00am, but it was already hot. This was to be our hottest day, with our cell phones later telling us temperatures approached 110 degrees. We were among the first buses to reach the visitor center, which included a very helpful 3D-model of the valley, including the beneath-ground tunnels. While there are dozens of tombs in the valley, only seven are open at any one time. For preservation purposes, but also to allow for archaeological work to proceed in others. Our ticket allowed us to visit three tombs. As with other sites, we had to buy a separate ticket (more expensive that the regular ticket) in order to be allowed to take pictures. Three of us elected to share one ticket, and I took the majority of pictures. We had to present our regular ticket each time we entered a tomb, where it was punched. The same was true for my photography ticket. We were told that if anyone was caught taking pictures without a ticket, the fine was $1,000. I doubted this from the beginning, and sure enough, at least two people I saw were caught doing so, and ended up just paying a "fine" to the person minding the tomb. Oliver paid about $10 when he was caught.

Colossi of Memnon

Valley of the Kings

People Movers from Visitor Center to Tomb Area

Tomb of Ramses IV

Friday selected the three tombs he thought most interesting and picturesque, and they were Ramses IV, Ramses IX, and Merenpthah. In addition, the tomb of King Tut is now open to visit, but requires a separate ticket. As that tomb was never completed, it is not ornately designed, and is very small. I elected to skip that one, but everyone else from the group went. By the way, no pictures -- with or without a pass -- are allowed inside that tomb. Each tomb we did visit was wholly unique. I am still amazed at how the original colors have remained in so many. I was dismayed, however, to see how it is so easy to touch and rub against the walls in many of them, which will only hasten their demise.











It was a full oven mode by the time we exited the last tomb and re-boarded a small people mover train, which carries people from the visitor center to the base of the tomb area. The air conditioning of the van, and ice-cold water were both very welcome. We then drove essentially around the main mountainside, into which most of the tombs were carved, and went to the Temple of Hatshepsut, which is an iconic temple originally built around 1500 BC as a funerary mortuary. She was supposed to rule in parallel with a half brother, who was only two years old when her father died, but she instead inserted herself as primary and often had herself depicted as a man. They say she had incredible guilt for her actions and was concerned that she could not reach the afterlife, which is one reason why she had this elaborate mortuary built, so as to "ease" her passage into the afterlife. Most of the temple was lost beneath the sands, but Poland of all countries has been involved in its restoration for decades, and remains on site, continuing to do excavation work. This temple was crowded, but it was with a huge contingent of Egyptian high school students who were on what amounts to their senior trip. They were taking large group pictures everywhere. After our tour with Friday, our group was scrambling for any areas of shade, whereas the locals, most of them dressed in black, didn't seem to mind the heat at all. I was a giant sweat ball by the time I rejoined everyone at a snack bar at the base of the complex. The ice-cold Pepsi was quite welcome.

Temple of Hatshepsut

Our final visit was to an alabaster "factory," where we got to see how artists carve statues and trinkets out of alabaster and basalt, which are still mined in Luxor. It was a good stop, if only for the air conditioning, drinks, and good selection of trinkets in a low-hassle environment.

At the Alabaster Factory

Lunch was back on the ship after we rode the launch across the river. Most everyone elected to shower and rest after what had already been a very long day for most of us. I cleaned up a little and then got off the ship to explore. Charlotte was the only one who was brave enough to come with me. We were moored right across from the Luxor Temple, and within easy walking distance of the famous Winter Palace hotel, where Agathy Christie wrote part of her novel, "Death on the Nile." I had stayed here in high school, and had vague memories of it. We were set upon by salesmen the minute we exited the boat. We had been warned against promising to return to any shop, but i made the mistake and answering "maybe" when one man, directly across from our ship, asked if I'd be back. That was a promise in his mind, which I would have to keep. It seemed even hotter by now, with no breeze, as Charlotte and I walked down the corniche area, walked up a few flights of stairs, bravely crossed the street, and walked toward the Winter Palace Hotel. It didn't look like it had changed much in the thirty or so years since my last visit. There was a security check as we entered the hotel, and we were asked if we were guests. I replied "no," but said we wanted to visit their shop. The man informed me that the shops were not in the hotel, but rather outside, but that his brother has an excellent shop, if i was interested. I shifted and then fibbed, and said we were going to get a drink. In reality, we just wanted to explore. The hotel was beautiful, and a virtual Victorian time capsule. In the main lobby is an intricate carved wooden staircase, from the first landing of which Howard Carter first announced his discovery of King Tut's tomb. We explored inside, and then went through the huge and beautiful gardens in the rear. With no other way out, we exited on the side, through a small gallery of shops. We ended up with one man, who took us to two of his shops. We wanted nothing he had, but we didn't have the heart to stop him. We finally extricated ourselves, without the obligatory cup of tea or any purchases. Back on the street, we had planned to seek out the souk, but we were beset by a series of extremely persistent taxi and carriage drivers. One carriage driver would not leave us alone, and at one point was walking alongside us while his son drove the carriage alongside us in the street. He kept dropping the price, to the point that he asked for one 5 pounds (about $0.30) "to buy hay for my horse." At this point, I looked over at Charlotte and asked if she'd be more comfortable going back to the ship, to which she didn't hesitate and said, "yes, please, Mr. Steele." I couldn't blame her. I walked her back and, sure enough, the salesman across the ship was waiting for us. I told him to sit tight and that I had to bring "my daughter" aboard ship. I did that, cooled off a bit, and then reemerged to serve my penance and visit the man's shop. In reality, I was looking for some scarves K had requested. I was determined to buy them and be done. He went to great lengths to show me every piece of junk in the shop. I politely and firmly selected the scarves, which he immediately started to wrap. i stopped him and said we had to agree to a price before anything. He continued to wrap, I got up, he stopped. It was a dance. I finally agreed at a price, which I already thought was quite generous, and to which I had agreed out of pity. No sooner had I paid him did he tuck the money into a drawer and then tell me, "this is not my shop. You should give me some money for me." I was dumbfounded, and again let down by what I thought had been some semblance of genuineness. I shook his hand and thanked him, and got up to leave. He looked into his hand hurt, but I walked out angry.

Crossing Back Over the Nile

Walking Through Other Boats To Disembark

This Was Waiting for Us After Lunch

Balcony in Winter Palace Hotel From Where Discovery of Tut's Tomb was Announced

We all reassembled for high tea in the afternoon, and then I convinced everyone to return with me to the Winter Palace for a proper cocktail before dinner. It was a very nice, and posh, time. We returned just in time for dinner. The other optional excursion Friday had offered was the sound-and-light show at the Temple of Karnak. I remembered this from high school and was anxious to do it again, so we all signed up. In fact, almost all of our group did, and we assembled in the lobby at 6:30pm, from where we were to drive directly over for the 7:00pm show. As we assembled in the lobby, we started to hear creaking on the boat and, for the first time ever, we felt the boat move in the waves. Mind you, we were still moored. We looked outside and could see that the trees outside were blowing wildly in the wind. We could see, too, that the sky had turned orange, and all of sudden, a steady stream of fellow passengers started to walk across the gangway and into the lobby, and they were all coming in windblown, with many of them coughing. It turns out that a major sandstorm had just hit. We later learned that it affected the entire country, and that some people even died from falling trees, blowing debris, and in car accidents. It was obvious that the storm was getting worse, and the sand was now so thick, we could no longer see the row of shops immediately opposite the boat.

Cocktails at the Winter Palace

Our Table in the Dining Room

We were talking among ourselves about our prospects for the sound-and-light tour happening, still not understanding the severity of the storm, when Friday reemerged and told us it was cancelled. After seeing the people getting on board, none of us had any further desire to leave the quiet confines of the boat. We were, however, concerned about our planned reattempt at the balloon ride the following morning. The forecast showed that the following day would be more than 20 degrees cooler, so we hoped that meant the sandstorm would blow through and leave clear skies. Alas, that wasn't too be. The storm was mostly over by morning, but Friday called us in our room around 10:00pm to let us know that airspace had been closed, so our second chance at the balloon ride was not to be.

Sand Storm

This night there was a belly-dancing show on board, but we were all tired and, having seen the show in Cairo, elected to rest and turn in relatively early.

Our Towel Sculpture for the Night