Arrived safe and sound at Elissa and Bapi’s house in Anerly, London. Have well and truly made ourselves at home spreading two packs worth of stuff over their house.
You can imagine how delighted we were when Bapi announced we were having pita bread and falafel for tea. Jon and I exchanged looks – is this a joke? Maybe he had read our blog. But no, after I had sworn never to eat pita again I found myself having seconds. Helped it wasn’t stale like the stuff we ate in Egypt.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Hunting Nessie (23.06.08)
Left the Isle of Skye and headed towards the Great Glen to try a spot of monster hunting on Loch Ness. On the way we drove past yet another castle which naturally I would like to have seen: Urquhart Castle which overlooks the loch. Not sure where my obsession comes from.To all extents and purposes the lake looks like every other loch, especially when one does not see a strange head or tail breaking the surface of the dark waters. It was interesting to hear that the deepest point is around 250 metres. This makes the loch deeper than the North Sea. It also holds more water than all the lakes in Wales and England combined together (could be mistaken on that point). Jon went in for a very quick and very cold dip. I have included a distant shot of Jon in the loch and not a close up as we are not in prime physical condition yet. Unfortunately he didn’t get bitten – would have made a great story and photo. In fact, there was no sighting of Nessie at all.
We then passed through Inverness (gateway to the Highlands and second most expensive house prices in Scotland) on our way to the battlefields of Culloden. The Battle of Culloden (1746) was the last battle fought on British soil and saw the defeat of Bonnie Prince Charlie and the slaughter of 1200 highlanders in just over an hour. The Jacobites loss saw the end of the old clan system and the stripping of Scottish culture: no more Gaelic or bagpipe playing etc. The moor is a somber and eerie place with rocks marking the spots where the different clans are buried in mass graves, including clan Fraser (although, sisters please note, Jamie is NOT real and therefore not fertilizing the ground there).
Before lunch we had a visit to the Tomatim distillery (est. 1897). Jon was not up to giving whisky another shot. Then after refueling we had a wee walk to the Bruer falls and some Scottish ice cream – nice and creamy. Finally, home to Edinburgh, tired and happy honorary Scots!
Tomorrow – on to Elissa and Bapi’s in London. Looking forward to doing a load of washing. We have been wearing the same thing for six days and are starting to have a peculiar odor following us everywhere. Wonder what that could be.
Isle of Skye (22.06.08)
Only 20,000 people live here now (half speak Gaelic) and I can see why many left due to the clearances. The weather today lived up to Scotland’s reputation: cold, wet and miserable, which makes you forget about the magnificent scenery. This did not help Jon’s hangover which was to last the whole day.With Jon feeling incredibly seedy we set off to explore the Trotternish Peninsula, including the Old Man of Storr – a rock that looks like a face. At least that is what the picture in the hostel looked like. I couldn’t actually see the mountains as they were covered in rain clouds. Legend has it a fairy carved the face into the rock. I am not so sure about that. Apparently, there are fairies that live in the coastal waters that look like horses and eat children. Maybe that is why I didn’t see any kids on the island.
Kilt Rock sort of looked like a kilt if you used a fair bit of imagination. It was incredibly windy so we didn’t hang around long. Instead, we went to the most windy point of the isle (makes sense) - the ruins of Duntulm Castle. Here, whilst trying not to be blown off the cliff face, we heard about the chief of the MacDonalds and his fetish for stuffing people in barrels and rolling them over the edge. He also returned his wife to the MacCleods clan (rivals) after she lost an eye. He sent her back accompanied by a one eyed horse, dog and man (he took all their eyes out). This led surprisingly to war - a war that was to become known as ‘The War of the One Eyed Woman’.
In the afternoon we drove past Dunvegan Castle home of the MacCleods. This place ahs a lot of Castles. I would have like to go in and see the famous Fairy Flag - a blanket made by fairies that offers the owner three lots of protection. Two have been used already. Oh well, that is the problem we have continually faced when being on tour. You just don’t have time to explore. We spent the rest of the arvo in a wee pub sitting by the fire and listening to local musicians playing the fiddle. A great place to be in this miserable weather although Jon would rather have been in bed.
Wild in Scotland (21.06.08)
Today we set off on a three day tour to explore briefly some of the rest of Scotland. I would love to hire a car and do it ourselves but alas time is limited (not to mention petrol works out to be about $3 a litre). We passed through Stirling (Braveheart country) and heard about William Wallace and the battle and victory of Stirling Bridge. We then made our way through Rob Roy territory (Trossachs). Unfortunately no time to stop and explore but we did say hello to the hairy and horny Hammish (Scottish for James) - a cow.
The whole day was pretty much spent in the bus winding our way around lochs (no water shortage here) and rolling green mountains with the occasional hairy cow thrown in. We did get out at Glen Coe (spectacular glens with snow capped mountains and streams running through the valley). This was the site of the massacre of the MacDonalds by the Campbells in 1692. Legend has it if you go up into the mountains you can still hear the screams particularly on the 13th of February (the anniversary and Jess’s birthday).
Lunch was at Fort William (William of Orange had a fort there) which I wont waste much time on except to mention that I ate what is possibly the worst hamburger there. Ben Nevis, Britain’s highest mountain, also lies behind the town.
On the way to the Isle of Skye (part of the Hebrides – islands off western Scotland) we passed the Eileen Donan Castle. This is the most photographed castle in the country - possibly because it is the most complete having only been built around 1930. It has featured in Highlander and Entrapment amongst other high quality films. When we get home we have a lot of DVDs we need to borrow.
I should have known I would get no sleep on a Saturday night in a 12 bed dorm in Portree (the capital) where there are lots of pubs and not much else. Jon had a bit too much of a wee dam of whisky.
Note: I don’t like whisky as the photo above indicates.
The Search for the Holy Grail (20.06.08)
Today we headed south towards the Scottish Borders. We stopped at Scott’s View (Sir Walter Scott’s favourite panoramic viewpoint. He is the author of Rob Roy) and then headed on to a bonnie town named Melrose. Here Jon and I peered through the gate and over the stone fence at the ruins of the abbey (too stingy to pay to see more ruins). This abbey fell victim to the Rough Wooing of Henry VIII after Mary’s (later to be Mary Queen of Scotts) betrothment to his son fell through. Seems like a strange way to force a marriage to me. It is also the supposed burial place of Robert the Bruce’s heart. Although I could have made that up. The town was lovely and it was a pity we couldn’t spend longer exploring it. A problem with being on a tour. However, in the brief time we were there we did manage to purchase a copy of Rob Roy against the shop keeper’s advisement. He said the movie was heaps better. That is not a patriotic comment – very unusual for a Scot.After our foray into the border territory we turned around and headed back to Edinburgh. Turns out Rosslyn Chapel is only 15 minutes from town and you don’t need to book a tour to see it. We could have just jumped on a local bus and seen it at our own pace.
We had a very weird lunch at Dobbies Garden Centre. Strange, it was like bringing a tour group to Bunnings for lunch. The tour brochure mentioned this place was what JK Rowling named Dobbie after, but no mention of that was made by our guide. Don’t ask me why she would name a character after a nursery.
Our final stop was the one and only Rosslyn Chapel of Da Vinci Code fame. The actual church is covered in scaffolding and has a roof over it to keep it dry as part of a long restoration process. Consequently we couldn’t get any good pics of the outside and you weren’t allowed to photograph inside. Not that a photo would entirely capture what it was like inside - carvings everywhere. I have never seen a church like it – pretty amazing. Unfortunately there was no sign of the Holy Grail. Apparently there are large crypts underneath that the St Clair family (the owners) wont let anyone enter but this is mostly because it will cause the foundations to become unstable. At least that is their excuse. Nearby are the ruins of Rosslyn Castle (a favourite subject of romantic artists including Turner). Again I would have liked to have lingered longer.
Tonight we set off to try and find a decent salad for dinner. All the restaurants around here are mainly pubs and serve haggis, neeps (turnips)and tatties (potatoes). Jon has already tried this along with black pudding (couldn’t bring myself to sample that one). We ended up in some very trendy bar feeling very out of place in our tourist garb (I have been wearing the same clothes for days). The food was great though.
Note: Both sets of Burkes haves parted ways with us now. Mine melted in the desert. I now have a nifty pair of bronze ones and some bad tan marks.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Continuing Down the Royal Mile (19.06.08)
As you might guess from the title of this entry, today we made our way down the rest of the Royal Mile - all the way to the Palace of Hollyrood House. On the way we checked out St Giles. The interior of the Kirk contains a bizarre Thistle Chapel where the Order of the noble and ancient Chivalry congregate in 16 elaborately carved gothic style stalls. It is all very odd - I don't get it and I am not sure where it fits in with any religious theology. I liked the bagpipe playing angel though. We also dropped by John Knox's house (dating from around 1490). Knox brought the Reformation and Presbyterianism to Scotland. He was a bit of a radical, preaching against Catholicism (and Mary Queen of Scots) and advocating social justice and education which were to be supported by using the wealth of the Catholic Church. Naturally some people, mainly staunch Catholics, didn't like him.The castle is on the edge of Hollyrood Park (rood means cross) and Arthurs Seat (an extinct volcano). It is my guess that the street near mum and dads is named after this place. We decided to give the castle a miss although we did scope the edges for a good photograph. Instead we went on a long walk along the base and up the top of Salisbury Craigs. The view of Edinburgh and the Firth of Forth (ocean) was beautiful and it was lovely to enjoy nature, although, it was not so fun almost being blown off the edge of the craig.
Eventually we ended up what seemed like miles away on Calton Hill. This hill is scattered with weird Romanesque style monuments and was not so exciting since we were knackered and had already seen good views. By the end of our hike we were knackered. We are not ready for Machu Picchu.
In the evening we checked out Mary King's Close which is a real close that lies hidden deep beneath the Royal Mile. We descended underneath the council chambers for a tour of the houses and streets that have lain abandoned since the chambers were built over the top a few hundred years ago. It was pretty cool to think that there is a town beneath the town that time has forgotten. There are probably lots of them underneath Edinburgh. I believe guides get their kicks out of scaring their tour groups as ours certainly managed to get a few screams out of us and it wasn't supposed to be scary - not impressed.
Our Brush With Fame (18.06.08)
Set off in the morning in search of real coffee. So good to have a decent cappuccino again. We booked a tour to Rosslyn Chapel on Friday to see if we can find the Holy Grail - would pay for our holiday and my souvenirs!
Next we set off to meet our walking tour and narrowly missed bumping into Prince Harry (unfortunately not literally). There were police everywhere outside St Giles as well as bagpipe playing men in kilts. Turns out there was a memorial service for fallen soldiers going on and the prince was reputedly a part of it all.
The walking tour was a good way to get our bearings and it was free - fabulous! The guide was so good though (PhD student from Oklahoma of all places) that we had to tip him. So not free after all. He told us about Mercat Cross which is situated at Parliament Square next to St Giles. This monument lies where the old market would have been and it is where they made and still make public announcements. In ye olden days they particularly like to accuse witches at this place as well as royal proclamations. John Knox is buried under the car park next to it. The actual witch burnings took place near our hostel. We also saw Lady Stairs house (an old mansion built in 1622 - we went back and explored it later), heard about William Brodie a deacon and respectable citizen by day, burglar by night and the inspiration for the story of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. Amongst other thins we visited Greyfriars Kirkyard (cemetery) and heard the tale of Greyfriars Bobby a Skye Terrier who sat on the grave of his master for 14 years. The dog's grave is something of a shrine. People leave all sorts of things on it, including a bundle of sticks. If you ever need kindling and you are in the area, that's where you should go. The nearby statue of Bobby is apparently the most photographed monument in town. Perhaps the most exciting thing we saw (at least Christy would think so) was the boys' school that was JK Rowling's inspiration for Hogwarts. We passed the cafe she wrote the first Harry Potter in which has views of the school.
After our tour ended we decided to visit Edinburgh Castle at the top of Royal Mile. The castle (a royal residence from the 11th-16th centuries) sits imposingly on top of an extinct volcano, dominating the city centre. We thought something odd was going on as soon as we passed through the gatehouse. There were photographers everywhere. Perhaps Harry was here. it turned out Keira Knightly was giving a press conference as tonight is the opening of the Edinburgh Film Festival. As soon as Jon found out he camped out with the paparazzi and refused to look at the castle with me. This was bemusing as he reportedly doesn't even like her - pouts too much. I staked out my own posi since we weren't going anywhere. I heard Kiera was coming by car so I stood by the curb and waited... and waited some more. Thirty minutes later two cars pulled up right next to me (not Jon) and out she got one metre away. I think Jon was jealous that my film footage kicks butt on his pics taken a mile away. Turns out Sienna Miller got out too and is on my video although I didn't realise it was her. I should sell my footage. The proceeds could finance this part of the trip. Pity they didn't fall or their dress didn't fly up in the wind (there is a strong draft up on the hill). An underwear shot should have been gold. So, now Jon and I fancy ourselves as celebrity hunters. I wonder who we will spot tomorrow - perhaps Sean Connery. He is reportedly here as well. It is Hollywood central!
In the evening we went on a ghost tour. I am not sure I am relieved or disappointed I didn't see anything out of the ordinary or even hear some footsteps of moaning. If you believe the guide, people have levitated on the tour before and been thrown across the underground vaults we visited. I was freaking out I would be attacked so I was reciting the Lord's Prayer underneath my breath whilst clutching the arm rather tightly of some strange and definitely alive girl next to me. The blokes were on the other side of the chamber as apparently the poltergeist attacks females if they go to that side. I didn't want to test it out. Thankfully I had a peaceful night sleep following that.
Next we set off to meet our walking tour and narrowly missed bumping into Prince Harry (unfortunately not literally). There were police everywhere outside St Giles as well as bagpipe playing men in kilts. Turns out there was a memorial service for fallen soldiers going on and the prince was reputedly a part of it all.
The walking tour was a good way to get our bearings and it was free - fabulous! The guide was so good though (PhD student from Oklahoma of all places) that we had to tip him. So not free after all. He told us about Mercat Cross which is situated at Parliament Square next to St Giles. This monument lies where the old market would have been and it is where they made and still make public announcements. In ye olden days they particularly like to accuse witches at this place as well as royal proclamations. John Knox is buried under the car park next to it. The actual witch burnings took place near our hostel. We also saw Lady Stairs house (an old mansion built in 1622 - we went back and explored it later), heard about William Brodie a deacon and respectable citizen by day, burglar by night and the inspiration for the story of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. Amongst other thins we visited Greyfriars Kirkyard (cemetery) and heard the tale of Greyfriars Bobby a Skye Terrier who sat on the grave of his master for 14 years. The dog's grave is something of a shrine. People leave all sorts of things on it, including a bundle of sticks. If you ever need kindling and you are in the area, that's where you should go. The nearby statue of Bobby is apparently the most photographed monument in town. Perhaps the most exciting thing we saw (at least Christy would think so) was the boys' school that was JK Rowling's inspiration for Hogwarts. We passed the cafe she wrote the first Harry Potter in which has views of the school.
After our tour ended we decided to visit Edinburgh Castle at the top of Royal Mile. The castle (a royal residence from the 11th-16th centuries) sits imposingly on top of an extinct volcano, dominating the city centre. We thought something odd was going on as soon as we passed through the gatehouse. There were photographers everywhere. Perhaps Harry was here. it turned out Keira Knightly was giving a press conference as tonight is the opening of the Edinburgh Film Festival. As soon as Jon found out he camped out with the paparazzi and refused to look at the castle with me. This was bemusing as he reportedly doesn't even like her - pouts too much. I staked out my own posi since we weren't going anywhere. I heard Kiera was coming by car so I stood by the curb and waited... and waited some more. Thirty minutes later two cars pulled up right next to me (not Jon) and out she got one metre away. I think Jon was jealous that my film footage kicks butt on his pics taken a mile away. Turns out Sienna Miller got out too and is on my video although I didn't realise it was her. I should sell my footage. The proceeds could finance this part of the trip. Pity they didn't fall or their dress didn't fly up in the wind (there is a strong draft up on the hill). An underwear shot should have been gold. So, now Jon and I fancy ourselves as celebrity hunters. I wonder who we will spot tomorrow - perhaps Sean Connery. He is reportedly here as well. It is Hollywood central!
In the evening we went on a ghost tour. I am not sure I am relieved or disappointed I didn't see anything out of the ordinary or even hear some footsteps of moaning. If you believe the guide, people have levitated on the tour before and been thrown across the underground vaults we visited. I was freaking out I would be attacked so I was reciting the Lord's Prayer underneath my breath whilst clutching the arm rather tightly of some strange and definitely alive girl next to me. The blokes were on the other side of the chamber as apparently the poltergeist attacks females if they go to that side. I didn't want to test it out. Thankfully I had a peaceful night sleep following that.
Edinburgh (17.06.08)
Seemed to get here without too many hassles. The only drama was being stuck on the plane at Heathrow for over thirty minutes as they couldn't find the stairs we couldn't get off. Naturally we were at the infamous terminal 5! I am not sure how they are going to host the Olympics - no one will have any luggage that is if they even get off the plane in the first place. They will have to revert back to the good old days of nude sports.
Our hostel seems alright - there even appears to be other old people here - really old ones, we are talking 50+. We dumped our stuff and went wandering around the Royal Mile. Apparently the road is longer than a mile but Royal Mile and a Half doesn't sound quite as good. I love all the little side streets otherwise known as closes (I think because they are close together?). You never know what lies down the alley - generally more old houses. There appears to be some pretty cool boutique shops about. I hate having no room in the pack to load up.
Our hostel seems alright - there even appears to be other old people here - really old ones, we are talking 50+. We dumped our stuff and went wandering around the Royal Mile. Apparently the road is longer than a mile but Royal Mile and a Half doesn't sound quite as good. I love all the little side streets otherwise known as closes (I think because they are close together?). You never know what lies down the alley - generally more old houses. There appears to be some pretty cool boutique shops about. I hate having no room in the pack to load up.
To be continued by Jon...
My first impressions of Scotland were of course influenced by what I already know about Scotland, which is substantial. Much of my Scot-knowledge I can credit to several influential characters from contemporary texts such as ‘Charlie’ from ‘So I married an Axe murderer’, ‘Groundskeeper Willy’ from ‘the Simpsons’ and I mustn’t forget our very own Mel’s Braveheart. The fact half the staff of Eastern Health (Box Hill and Maroondah hospitals) are Scottish was of little practical help to me and I won’t credit them. With such learned scholars informing my knowledge it’s a wonder I even bothered to come to Scotland at all – I didn’t need to!
Anyways, several things struck me as my first impressions:
There are more Aussies in central Edinburgh than Scots.
Q. How long must I wait to hear a Scottish accent in Edinburgh? A. Longer than I’ve waited so far.
Q. Why did we book ourselves into a youth hostel? A. Who knows, we are no longer youth and very pleased about that!
From leaving the airport to arriving at our ‘overly youth orientated’ hostel, we heard many accents but none of them Scottish. All the shops, cafes and restaurants were attended by Australians (usually) or some other brand of ‘non-native-Scott’. The ultra-hip-and-grungy-looking permanent-back-packers serving us at the hostel: One an Aussie, the other a Canadian. The ultra-hip-and-grungy-looking permanent-back-packer-type girl selling her ultra-hip-and-grungy-looking coffee table books and related nicely packaged crap (ps Karyn loved that shop): an Aussie!!! And the girl she was discussing her masters’ degree in philosophy with: another Aussie!
Potentially the first Scottish accent I heard was at Biddy Mulligans pub where we ventured for tea. It passed the Berends/Vanderbom test of serving a plate of chips and a burger for less than $20 Australian, add an extra $10 and I happily sipped at a beer while Karyn adjusted the budget. I wasn’t quite sure if Biddy Mulligans was meant to be Scottish or Irish (I’ll study my Simpsons texts later) - it served only international beers with the exception of Guinness and I didn’t wish to draw attention to my ignorance by asking. The potentially Scottish accent was spoken by the red-headed (very grounds-keeper-Willy) barman who correctly took my order for bangers and mash with my beer. I couldn’t be absolutely sure he was communicating using the Scottish version of English due the din caused by the commentary accompanying the telecast of the Euro 2008 match – we mostly communicated using hand gestures, pointing and nodding.
The first accent I can categorically assert was Scottish was not heard until almost 24 hours after arriving in Edinburgh. It was spoken in a kilt shop by a Sikh Indian in full head-wear and traditional dress. I admit I was a little taken back, I was surprised. I had wandered to streets for almost a day and had witnessed the most fluent sounding Scottish spoken by a man that looks more Indian than a vindaloo curry! I was also disappointed at the lack of ‘true-Scots’ in Edinburgh. Have they all moved to Melbourne and been replaced by Aussies and Indians who don’t mind trading good weather for a better value currency. Maybe the Scotland I was seeking lay outside the walls of the old-town, the town that has peacefully been claimed by Australia. Possibly, just beyond the walls in the new town, there are thousands of kilt wearing Scots speaking a language that sounds like English but can’t be understood. Still, it’s good to be surrounded by Aussies when travelling; better than being surrounded by mono-cultural gun carrying tea totalling Egyptians all attempting to separate you from your wallet, some keen (evidenced by their driving among other things) to introduce you to Allah.
Anyways, several things struck me as my first impressions:
There are more Aussies in central Edinburgh than Scots.
Q. How long must I wait to hear a Scottish accent in Edinburgh? A. Longer than I’ve waited so far.
Q. Why did we book ourselves into a youth hostel? A. Who knows, we are no longer youth and very pleased about that!
From leaving the airport to arriving at our ‘overly youth orientated’ hostel, we heard many accents but none of them Scottish. All the shops, cafes and restaurants were attended by Australians (usually) or some other brand of ‘non-native-Scott’. The ultra-hip-and-grungy-looking permanent-back-packers serving us at the hostel: One an Aussie, the other a Canadian. The ultra-hip-and-grungy-looking permanent-back-packer-type girl selling her ultra-hip-and-grungy-looking coffee table books and related nicely packaged crap (ps Karyn loved that shop): an Aussie!!! And the girl she was discussing her masters’ degree in philosophy with: another Aussie!
Potentially the first Scottish accent I heard was at Biddy Mulligans pub where we ventured for tea. It passed the Berends/Vanderbom test of serving a plate of chips and a burger for less than $20 Australian, add an extra $10 and I happily sipped at a beer while Karyn adjusted the budget. I wasn’t quite sure if Biddy Mulligans was meant to be Scottish or Irish (I’ll study my Simpsons texts later) - it served only international beers with the exception of Guinness and I didn’t wish to draw attention to my ignorance by asking. The potentially Scottish accent was spoken by the red-headed (very grounds-keeper-Willy) barman who correctly took my order for bangers and mash with my beer. I couldn’t be absolutely sure he was communicating using the Scottish version of English due the din caused by the commentary accompanying the telecast of the Euro 2008 match – we mostly communicated using hand gestures, pointing and nodding.
The first accent I can categorically assert was Scottish was not heard until almost 24 hours after arriving in Edinburgh. It was spoken in a kilt shop by a Sikh Indian in full head-wear and traditional dress. I admit I was a little taken back, I was surprised. I had wandered to streets for almost a day and had witnessed the most fluent sounding Scottish spoken by a man that looks more Indian than a vindaloo curry! I was also disappointed at the lack of ‘true-Scots’ in Edinburgh. Have they all moved to Melbourne and been replaced by Aussies and Indians who don’t mind trading good weather for a better value currency. Maybe the Scotland I was seeking lay outside the walls of the old-town, the town that has peacefully been claimed by Australia. Possibly, just beyond the walls in the new town, there are thousands of kilt wearing Scots speaking a language that sounds like English but can’t be understood. Still, it’s good to be surrounded by Aussies when travelling; better than being surrounded by mono-cultural gun carrying tea totalling Egyptians all attempting to separate you from your wallet, some keen (evidenced by their driving among other things) to introduce you to Allah.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Farewell Cairo (15.06.08 - 16.06.08)
Our last two days in Cairo were spent exploring the Islamic section. There is not really much to report on this experience. We got ripped off and harrassed by taxi drivers, shop keepers, tour guides on the look out for people who are willing to part with their money (not us - apparently according to one Americans are better than Australians) and Muslim priests - same old, same old.
We wandered the streets and eventually found Beit Suhaymi, a beautiful traditional family mansion that dates back to the 1700s (I think). Whilst exploring the building, we ended up in the lounge room area (normally locked but we were lucky) which was still furnished as it would have been a few hundred years ago. The tiles and decorations were amazing. We also had a look at the Mosque of al-Hakim. Not so exciting, but according to the Lonely Planet this ruler was a bit of a sadist and used to ride about town on his donkey 'Moon' punishing dishonest merchants by having them sodomised by a black servant who accompanied him. And that was just one of his many peculiarities. I had to see it after reading that. Naturally, the signage in the mosque didn't mention this. Rather, it said he had an interesting personality and innovative ideas regarding social control. I'll say!
We also vistied the Al-Azhar Mosque which is one of Cairo's earliest mosques and the world's oldest survivng university. I am not much of a fan of mosques. The most interesting thing about that place was the priest who led us around on a tour and cracked it when we wouldn't give him more than 20 Egyption Pounds. I thought we were being generous since we didn't want to be led around, we couldn't understand anything he said, it was free to enter, and for a moment there I thought he had locked us in a tower to try and extract more baksheesh (tip) from us.
The following day, our last in this country, we visited the Citadel, the home to Egypt's rulers for some 700 years. It is also home to Mohammed Ali's (not the boxer just in case you were wondering) Mosque. This was a waste of time and money as everything was dilapidated and made us yawn. The best part about the day was the overpriced but very good cappuccino we had at the Nile Hilton as a reward for enduring such a boring experience. We even got too much change back - karma (not that I believe in that).
We have had an interesting time in this country and have seen heaps in the two and a bit weeks we were here. It has not been relaxing though, and I wouldn't necessarily call the experience fun. We are really looking forward to rejoining western civilisation for two weeks before heading off to South America. One of my many observations from this trip is that I really can't blame the Isralites for complaining about being stuck in the desert here for 40 years. I was moaning after 17 days. Their mumbling about manna makes perfect sense too - if I have to see another piece of pita bread again in my life I will vomit!
We wandered the streets and eventually found Beit Suhaymi, a beautiful traditional family mansion that dates back to the 1700s (I think). Whilst exploring the building, we ended up in the lounge room area (normally locked but we were lucky) which was still furnished as it would have been a few hundred years ago. The tiles and decorations were amazing. We also had a look at the Mosque of al-Hakim. Not so exciting, but according to the Lonely Planet this ruler was a bit of a sadist and used to ride about town on his donkey 'Moon' punishing dishonest merchants by having them sodomised by a black servant who accompanied him. And that was just one of his many peculiarities. I had to see it after reading that. Naturally, the signage in the mosque didn't mention this. Rather, it said he had an interesting personality and innovative ideas regarding social control. I'll say!
We also vistied the Al-Azhar Mosque which is one of Cairo's earliest mosques and the world's oldest survivng university. I am not much of a fan of mosques. The most interesting thing about that place was the priest who led us around on a tour and cracked it when we wouldn't give him more than 20 Egyption Pounds. I thought we were being generous since we didn't want to be led around, we couldn't understand anything he said, it was free to enter, and for a moment there I thought he had locked us in a tower to try and extract more baksheesh (tip) from us.
The following day, our last in this country, we visited the Citadel, the home to Egypt's rulers for some 700 years. It is also home to Mohammed Ali's (not the boxer just in case you were wondering) Mosque. This was a waste of time and money as everything was dilapidated and made us yawn. The best part about the day was the overpriced but very good cappuccino we had at the Nile Hilton as a reward for enduring such a boring experience. We even got too much change back - karma (not that I believe in that).
We have had an interesting time in this country and have seen heaps in the two and a bit weeks we were here. It has not been relaxing though, and I wouldn't necessarily call the experience fun. We are really looking forward to rejoining western civilisation for two weeks before heading off to South America. One of my many observations from this trip is that I really can't blame the Isralites for complaining about being stuck in the desert here for 40 years. I was moaning after 17 days. Their mumbling about manna makes perfect sense too - if I have to see another piece of pita bread again in my life I will vomit!
The Western Desert (12.06.08 - 14.06.08)
Another long day driving across the desert to Bahariyya Oasis. Again, it is probably a miracle we are alive. Our 12 hour journey was completed in record time thanks to our crazy drivers who spent a bit too long on the sheeshas before driving. It only took a mere seven hours in two jeeps that should have been condemed.
I did not have high hopes as we drove through this run down town. Jon and I came to agreement that if we were paid a billion dollars to live here for the rest of your life we would decline the offer. I had to um and ah about whether I would move here if it meant world poverty would be eradicated. I still haven't made up my mind - I am rather selfish but then you haven't seen this place! I was expecting a lot worse accommodation than what we got, although we had to swap rooms as I did not fancy sleeping on a bed covered in ants. I did not dare pull back the sheets to see why a coloney had set up base there.
I thought I would be over sand but the desert was quite beautiful. We visited Crystal Mountain which is aptly named - lots of quartz. We also fossicked for flower stones somewhere in the middle of nowhere. The black rocks only looked like flowers if you used a lot of imagination and half shut your eyes. The size of our police escort's gun made sure we didn't souvenir any.
The white desert consisted of hundreds of rock formations that were really striking. It was here we camped under the stars with the foxes. You felt like you were the only people on earth if you ignored the fact that there were other tour groups camped 1km away in every direction. It would have been an amazing experience if it wasn't for the horrible noises coming from Jon all night long. I have never heard him snore quite like that before. People could hear him twently metres away. I am now partially deaf!
The next day we headed back to Cairo. In the evening we went to see an Egyptian heritage dance troupe in Islamic Cairo. The noise (I guess you could call it music) was facinating and so was the Sufi dancing... at first. However, the twirling man started to make me feel ill as he kept rotating for over an hour. It was stinking hot in the room and I wasn't sure if the pained look on his face was one of meditation, dizziness, or if he was going to drop dead. The constant clutching of his heart made me suspect the later. I had to get out of there before he had a heart attack.
This was the last night with our group. Tomorrow we are on our own again.
I did not have high hopes as we drove through this run down town. Jon and I came to agreement that if we were paid a billion dollars to live here for the rest of your life we would decline the offer. I had to um and ah about whether I would move here if it meant world poverty would be eradicated. I still haven't made up my mind - I am rather selfish but then you haven't seen this place! I was expecting a lot worse accommodation than what we got, although we had to swap rooms as I did not fancy sleeping on a bed covered in ants. I did not dare pull back the sheets to see why a coloney had set up base there.
I thought I would be over sand but the desert was quite beautiful. We visited Crystal Mountain which is aptly named - lots of quartz. We also fossicked for flower stones somewhere in the middle of nowhere. The black rocks only looked like flowers if you used a lot of imagination and half shut your eyes. The size of our police escort's gun made sure we didn't souvenir any.
The white desert consisted of hundreds of rock formations that were really striking. It was here we camped under the stars with the foxes. You felt like you were the only people on earth if you ignored the fact that there were other tour groups camped 1km away in every direction. It would have been an amazing experience if it wasn't for the horrible noises coming from Jon all night long. I have never heard him snore quite like that before. People could hear him twently metres away. I am now partially deaf!
The next day we headed back to Cairo. In the evening we went to see an Egyptian heritage dance troupe in Islamic Cairo. The noise (I guess you could call it music) was facinating and so was the Sufi dancing... at first. However, the twirling man started to make me feel ill as he kept rotating for over an hour. It was stinking hot in the room and I wasn't sure if the pained look on his face was one of meditation, dizziness, or if he was going to drop dead. The constant clutching of his heart made me suspect the later. I had to get out of there before he had a heart attack.
This was the last night with our group. Tomorrow we are on our own again.
Siwa Oasis (10.06.08 - 11.06.08)
We arrived in Siwa after a ten hour public bus ride (rather torturous). On route we passed a broken down bus and I found myself glad we didn't stop to help. All I wanted to do was get off our sweat box and shower.
Siwa is a lush Oasis in the Western Desert about 50km form the Libiyan border. It is famous for its olives and dates, both of which we can verify are pretty tasty. It was amazing to see all the green palm trees and springs come into view after driving across the desert for hours on end. Because the place is so isolated its culture is very different to the rest of Egypt and they apparently speak their own Berber dialect but it all sounds the same to me. The women here are very secluded and are covered head to toe, including their face - I guess it is a good way to keep the dust off but it must be stinking hot under there. They only come out in the morning and evening on donkey carts.
I really like this place - it is so laid back and quiet - that is if you ignore the donkeys braying. They sound like their legs are being torn off one by one. The taxi rank in the main square consists of a row of donkey carts. Our accommodation was not so great - a tiny oven with one of those showers over the toilet. They really should allow women to work. We see dirt, unlike the 12 year old boys who were cleaning the rooms. The toilet bowl had never seen a cleaning product since it was installed. In fact, I don't recall seeing cleaning products for sale in this country.
The first night we viewed a spectacular desert sunset from the top of the ruins of Shali - a 13th centuary fortress that has washed away over the years. After a very slow start the next day (everything runs on Siwa time - about a two hour delay), Jon and I caught a taxi (donkey cart) to the Mountain of the Dead - a small hill near town honeycombed with rock tombs from Roman times. I think there were something like 1600 of them and these Egyption archeologists, including a boy, were digging up bones we weren't supposed to see or photograph. However, I saw a massive pile of them and called Jon over at the top of my voice. Suddenly one of the guys comes running over and quickly covers them up with bits of ply and tells me off for looking at them. It wasn't my fault they didn't cover them up properly to begin with - who wouldn't want to look at skulls and photograph them if they could?
Our donkey cart then took us to see the Temple of the Oracle. Alexander the Great came to consult the oracle here but we decided to give it a miss. Not sure if the oracle is still in working order. On the way to Cleopatra's Bath our driver (a ten year old boy) took us via the cross country route through the palm groves and crashed our cart into a tree, ripping the top of the roof off. Lots of fun. I tell you, the crazy driving starts at a young age in this country and they only get worse as they get older. Thank goodness their religion forbids alcohol. I hate to think what the road toll would be if it were different. I was a bit disappointed to see that my cellulite hadn't disappeared after a dip in Cleopatra's spring.
Late in the arvo we went sand boarding down some steep desert dunes. It wasn't as fun as I had imagined as my board went about 2 metres before it came to a stop. I guess it would have helped if our guides waxed the boards first. By the time they offered to do so I was sick of climbing up and down the dunes. The cold and hot springs we swam in were worth the trip though.
Siwa is a lush Oasis in the Western Desert about 50km form the Libiyan border. It is famous for its olives and dates, both of which we can verify are pretty tasty. It was amazing to see all the green palm trees and springs come into view after driving across the desert for hours on end. Because the place is so isolated its culture is very different to the rest of Egypt and they apparently speak their own Berber dialect but it all sounds the same to me. The women here are very secluded and are covered head to toe, including their face - I guess it is a good way to keep the dust off but it must be stinking hot under there. They only come out in the morning and evening on donkey carts.
I really like this place - it is so laid back and quiet - that is if you ignore the donkeys braying. They sound like their legs are being torn off one by one. The taxi rank in the main square consists of a row of donkey carts. Our accommodation was not so great - a tiny oven with one of those showers over the toilet. They really should allow women to work. We see dirt, unlike the 12 year old boys who were cleaning the rooms. The toilet bowl had never seen a cleaning product since it was installed. In fact, I don't recall seeing cleaning products for sale in this country.
The first night we viewed a spectacular desert sunset from the top of the ruins of Shali - a 13th centuary fortress that has washed away over the years. After a very slow start the next day (everything runs on Siwa time - about a two hour delay), Jon and I caught a taxi (donkey cart) to the Mountain of the Dead - a small hill near town honeycombed with rock tombs from Roman times. I think there were something like 1600 of them and these Egyption archeologists, including a boy, were digging up bones we weren't supposed to see or photograph. However, I saw a massive pile of them and called Jon over at the top of my voice. Suddenly one of the guys comes running over and quickly covers them up with bits of ply and tells me off for looking at them. It wasn't my fault they didn't cover them up properly to begin with - who wouldn't want to look at skulls and photograph them if they could?
Our donkey cart then took us to see the Temple of the Oracle. Alexander the Great came to consult the oracle here but we decided to give it a miss. Not sure if the oracle is still in working order. On the way to Cleopatra's Bath our driver (a ten year old boy) took us via the cross country route through the palm groves and crashed our cart into a tree, ripping the top of the roof off. Lots of fun. I tell you, the crazy driving starts at a young age in this country and they only get worse as they get older. Thank goodness their religion forbids alcohol. I hate to think what the road toll would be if it were different. I was a bit disappointed to see that my cellulite hadn't disappeared after a dip in Cleopatra's spring.
Late in the arvo we went sand boarding down some steep desert dunes. It wasn't as fun as I had imagined as my board went about 2 metres before it came to a stop. I guess it would have helped if our guides waxed the boards first. By the time they offered to do so I was sick of climbing up and down the dunes. The cold and hot springs we swam in were worth the trip though.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
On the Mediterranean Coast (09.06.08)
The only thing the modern day Alexandria has going for it is the coastal breeze from the Mediterranean.
Founded by Alexander the Great, yet is bears no trace of him (or anything much). It is hard to imagine that this filthy city was once regarded as the most learned place on earth and was second only to Rome in size.
There is litter everywhere, it is, in fact Egypt is, one giant rubbish dump – probably the biggest tip in the world. I can’t understand why no one in this country can put something in the bin. To get to the ocean, if you dare, you have to wade through a sea of trash that covers the entire strip of sand.
We only had one afternoon here which I was not upset about. We visited the catacombs of Kom ash-Shuqqafa a Roman burial site that was discovered when a donkey disappeared down a hole one day at the turn of last century. They were quite creepy. You had to descend down a circular shaft. On three different levels were various tombs with pigeon holes for bodies. There was a particularly creepy funery temple that Jon took an illegal photo of. He just can’t help himself despite the giant signs with a cross through the picture of a camera.
We then wandered briefly around the antique shop area of town that I had read about. We gave up pretty quickly as the shops were piled high with dusty, mostly broken, bits and pieces and were not back pack friendly. Perhaps the broken things were from previous visitors. It wouldn’t surprise me if the layout of the interiors were designed for tourists to break items so they would have to pay.
Next, we caught a taxi to the fort which is built on the site of the famous Pharos lighthouse. Wandering back along the ocean we marveled at the litter and then thought we would check out this bibliotech our guide Mo was raving about. The New Alexandria library was inspired by the original Great Library that was here in Alexandria’s hey day a few thousand years back. The architecture was quite nice and it must be the cleanest building in the country but it was just a library and one that we had to pay for the pleasure of entering.
Dinner = delicious seafood.
Founded by Alexander the Great, yet is bears no trace of him (or anything much). It is hard to imagine that this filthy city was once regarded as the most learned place on earth and was second only to Rome in size.
There is litter everywhere, it is, in fact Egypt is, one giant rubbish dump – probably the biggest tip in the world. I can’t understand why no one in this country can put something in the bin. To get to the ocean, if you dare, you have to wade through a sea of trash that covers the entire strip of sand.
We only had one afternoon here which I was not upset about. We visited the catacombs of Kom ash-Shuqqafa a Roman burial site that was discovered when a donkey disappeared down a hole one day at the turn of last century. They were quite creepy. You had to descend down a circular shaft. On three different levels were various tombs with pigeon holes for bodies. There was a particularly creepy funery temple that Jon took an illegal photo of. He just can’t help himself despite the giant signs with a cross through the picture of a camera.
We then wandered briefly around the antique shop area of town that I had read about. We gave up pretty quickly as the shops were piled high with dusty, mostly broken, bits and pieces and were not back pack friendly. Perhaps the broken things were from previous visitors. It wouldn’t surprise me if the layout of the interiors were designed for tourists to break items so they would have to pay.
Next, we caught a taxi to the fort which is built on the site of the famous Pharos lighthouse. Wandering back along the ocean we marveled at the litter and then thought we would check out this bibliotech our guide Mo was raving about. The New Alexandria library was inspired by the original Great Library that was here in Alexandria’s hey day a few thousand years back. The architecture was quite nice and it must be the cleanest building in the country but it was just a library and one that we had to pay for the pleasure of entering.
Dinner = delicious seafood.
Luxor and the City of the Dead (07.06.08 - 08.06.08)
Took another armed convoy into Luxor on Saturday morning. It was great to be off the boat and able to walk upright again.
The heat here is just as oppressive as down south and it is bordering on unbearable. Siestas make sense in this country.
Luxor (once known as Thebes) is home to eight of the twelve highlights of Pharonic Egypt and used to be the capital once upon a time. I believe we saw six of the twelve sights here but am not entirely sure. My brain is frazzled by the heat but so far this is the place I like the best. It has more character, is less chaotic and crowded than Cairo, has modern shops and then there are the ruins. The only drawback (not including the heat) is the incessant harassment from vendors. I had to literally run away from one. It’s best to look at the pavement rather than what is going on around you lest someone thinks you may have shown interest in their wares. Not that pavement gazing really deters them.
First stop was the temples of Karnak on the East Bank (the land of the living). Karnak is a spectacular complex of sanctuaries, kiosks, pylons and obelisks, all dedicated to the Theban gods and to the greater glory of Egypt’s Pharaohs (borrowed that from the travel bible: Lonely Planet). It was the most important place of worship in all of Egypt during the height of Theban power and each successive pharaoh of the 18th and 19th dynasties added a room, hall or pylon. Today all that remains are ruins and there is not much colour on the walls due to exposure to the sun but you definitely get a good idea of the former grandeur of the place. The Great Hypostyle Hall was definitely the highlight with its 134 towering papyrus shaped pillars that cover an area of 6000 square metres. I can’t really describe what it was like except amazing. I couldn’t exactly work out what the rest of the ruins were – it is quite confusing without a guide and we only had 1.5 hours (a group decision that I was out voted on) to try and cover a site that is about 1.5km x 800m.
On the way back to our hotel we walked past the Luxor temple which is next to the Nile. We decided not to go in as it couldn’t have been better than what we had just seen plus we had spotted the golden arches and the lure of an air conditioned Mac Donalds was just too much to resist.
Sunday was West Bank day. All the tombs and funery temples are on this side of the Nile as it is where the sun sinks down into the underworld each evening. WE started the day nice and early with a hot air balloon ride at sunrise. It was great to get a birds eye view of the green fields and then dessert, although I wish we floated closer to the toms (we didn’t move much – I am not sure why as some balloons floated towards the dessert – probably paid more). Jon thought it was a bit scary as we were hovering above power lines for a while there. We almost landed on top of some Arab sleeping on his roof. He probably got a bit of a fright when he woke up to see us metres above his head.
We were dropped off at the Colossi of Memnon. This pair of 18 metre high statues are all that remain of Amenhotep III funery temple. Here we met the remainder of our group who slept in until 6.30am and set off to the canyon known as the Valley of the Kings. I had always imagined the dessert here to be sandy but it isn’t. Rather, it is rocky and reasonably mountainous. This valley contains 62 royal burial sites, including the tomb of Tutankhamun (separate entrance fee). Our ticket let us enter 3 tombs so we went into those of Tuthmosis III, Seti II and Ramses IV (I think). Each showed us something interesting about the way tombs were constructed. Apparently, 50 people worked on them at once broken up into 5 teams: diggers, polishers, drawers, carvers and painters (I think that is right).
Tuthmosis’s tomb was hidden high up in the limestone cliffs with passages at odd angles to deter thieves (didn’t work). It is the oldest tomb in the valley so the style of painting is that of the stick men variety.
Setti II died after reigning for only 4 years so his tomb was finished in great haste (they had 70 days after the death to round things up as this is how long the mummification process took). The start is carved and painted, then just painted and then sketched as they ran out of time.
Ramses’ tomb had an intact painting of the goddess Nut stretched out across the blue ceiling. By the time we finished up it was so hot we were roasting. Rumor has it, it was a mere 56 degrees. No wonder over the course of the day Jon and I drank nine litres of water between us.
Next stop, the temple of Hatshepsut (the longest ruling woman pharaoh and mother in law, step mother and aunty to her successor Tuthmosis II – go figure!). This temple is carved into the limestone cliffs of the Theban mountain. It is very impressive from a distance with three huge terraced courts. Up close though most of the carvings and paintings are gone. If you wish to die of heat stroke you can climb up over the mountain to the Valley of the Kings. We didn’t have a death wish.
Our guide managed to convince us after lunch to see Ramses III’s funery temple Medinat Habu. I am glad she did. The carvings here were phenomenal and were absolutely everywhere, almost making it in my opinion quite ugly. As Ramses III was a bit of a war monger, a lot of the scenes are you guest it… of war! This includes a tally of the hands and penises they chopped off the Syrians after one particular battle – Nice!
One just can’t completely grasp what these building would have looked like in their day. Huge, multi-coloured monuments with every square inch painted with various scenes. They would have leaped out at you against the back drop of the dessert. Mind boggling stuff.
Tonight, an overnight train to Cairo and then a van to Alexandria. Sounds like fun! (Lots of sarcasm in the last remark).
The heat here is just as oppressive as down south and it is bordering on unbearable. Siestas make sense in this country.
Luxor (once known as Thebes) is home to eight of the twelve highlights of Pharonic Egypt and used to be the capital once upon a time. I believe we saw six of the twelve sights here but am not entirely sure. My brain is frazzled by the heat but so far this is the place I like the best. It has more character, is less chaotic and crowded than Cairo, has modern shops and then there are the ruins. The only drawback (not including the heat) is the incessant harassment from vendors. I had to literally run away from one. It’s best to look at the pavement rather than what is going on around you lest someone thinks you may have shown interest in their wares. Not that pavement gazing really deters them.
First stop was the temples of Karnak on the East Bank (the land of the living). Karnak is a spectacular complex of sanctuaries, kiosks, pylons and obelisks, all dedicated to the Theban gods and to the greater glory of Egypt’s Pharaohs (borrowed that from the travel bible: Lonely Planet). It was the most important place of worship in all of Egypt during the height of Theban power and each successive pharaoh of the 18th and 19th dynasties added a room, hall or pylon. Today all that remains are ruins and there is not much colour on the walls due to exposure to the sun but you definitely get a good idea of the former grandeur of the place. The Great Hypostyle Hall was definitely the highlight with its 134 towering papyrus shaped pillars that cover an area of 6000 square metres. I can’t really describe what it was like except amazing. I couldn’t exactly work out what the rest of the ruins were – it is quite confusing without a guide and we only had 1.5 hours (a group decision that I was out voted on) to try and cover a site that is about 1.5km x 800m.
On the way back to our hotel we walked past the Luxor temple which is next to the Nile. We decided not to go in as it couldn’t have been better than what we had just seen plus we had spotted the golden arches and the lure of an air conditioned Mac Donalds was just too much to resist.
Sunday was West Bank day. All the tombs and funery temples are on this side of the Nile as it is where the sun sinks down into the underworld each evening. WE started the day nice and early with a hot air balloon ride at sunrise. It was great to get a birds eye view of the green fields and then dessert, although I wish we floated closer to the toms (we didn’t move much – I am not sure why as some balloons floated towards the dessert – probably paid more). Jon thought it was a bit scary as we were hovering above power lines for a while there. We almost landed on top of some Arab sleeping on his roof. He probably got a bit of a fright when he woke up to see us metres above his head.
We were dropped off at the Colossi of Memnon. This pair of 18 metre high statues are all that remain of Amenhotep III funery temple. Here we met the remainder of our group who slept in until 6.30am and set off to the canyon known as the Valley of the Kings. I had always imagined the dessert here to be sandy but it isn’t. Rather, it is rocky and reasonably mountainous. This valley contains 62 royal burial sites, including the tomb of Tutankhamun (separate entrance fee). Our ticket let us enter 3 tombs so we went into those of Tuthmosis III, Seti II and Ramses IV (I think). Each showed us something interesting about the way tombs were constructed. Apparently, 50 people worked on them at once broken up into 5 teams: diggers, polishers, drawers, carvers and painters (I think that is right).
Tuthmosis’s tomb was hidden high up in the limestone cliffs with passages at odd angles to deter thieves (didn’t work). It is the oldest tomb in the valley so the style of painting is that of the stick men variety.
Setti II died after reigning for only 4 years so his tomb was finished in great haste (they had 70 days after the death to round things up as this is how long the mummification process took). The start is carved and painted, then just painted and then sketched as they ran out of time.
Ramses’ tomb had an intact painting of the goddess Nut stretched out across the blue ceiling. By the time we finished up it was so hot we were roasting. Rumor has it, it was a mere 56 degrees. No wonder over the course of the day Jon and I drank nine litres of water between us.
Next stop, the temple of Hatshepsut (the longest ruling woman pharaoh and mother in law, step mother and aunty to her successor Tuthmosis II – go figure!). This temple is carved into the limestone cliffs of the Theban mountain. It is very impressive from a distance with three huge terraced courts. Up close though most of the carvings and paintings are gone. If you wish to die of heat stroke you can climb up over the mountain to the Valley of the Kings. We didn’t have a death wish.
Our guide managed to convince us after lunch to see Ramses III’s funery temple Medinat Habu. I am glad she did. The carvings here were phenomenal and were absolutely everywhere, almost making it in my opinion quite ugly. As Ramses III was a bit of a war monger, a lot of the scenes are you guest it… of war! This includes a tally of the hands and penises they chopped off the Syrians after one particular battle – Nice!
One just can’t completely grasp what these building would have looked like in their day. Huge, multi-coloured monuments with every square inch painted with various scenes. They would have leaped out at you against the back drop of the dessert. Mind boggling stuff.
Tonight, an overnight train to Cairo and then a van to Alexandria. Sounds like fun! (Lots of sarcasm in the last remark).
(Note: Pics are all out of order. Karnak is the last 3 pics)
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