The curse of Tutankhamun – Pharaohs, part 2.

Are they lost? Should we ask if they are in the right train? Maybe they have been robbed and they don’t have any money left. Do you think they need help?

It was hilarious to listen to Egyptian locals when we went in the 3rd class local train from Aswan to Luxor. Obviously not too many tourists take these trains which, by the way, wasn’t that bad at all. Maybe a bit uncomfortable with its hard seats on a longer trip than this 3 hours, though.

Luxor was a much waited destination for me, with its temples and, first and foremost, the royal tombs in The Valley of the Kings and The Valley of the Queens. I was prepared now to write a long post about how great all the things were – but suddenly, am out of words. Don’t get me wrong, they were amazing, incredible, magnificent and superb, but I don’t know how to describe the feeling of seeing something that old which sometimes seemed to be brand new.

In several tombs of pharaohs, the German boys of our group (we booked a tour, which ended up to be a great idea, we had really a good time with our brilliant guide) just couldn’t believe the paintings were original. It must have been repainted, they insisted, looking at the bright colours of Gods, hieroglyphs and the members of the royal families. Some of them surely looked like they would have been painted yesterday. Unfortunately, going inside of the tombs is a double-sided sword, since the carbon dioxide and moisture from exhaled air destroys the paint. Thus, only a few tombs are open at time, and they rotate the open tombs to give them rest in between – rest to the paintings, not the pharaohs.

Pharaohs, except Tutankhamun, are not in their tombs anymore. They are shown in museums around the world. Only the boy pharaoh Tut, who died age of 18-19, is still in his original tomb. His tomb was the most famous archaeological find of 20th century, if ever. Howard Carter found it in 1920s, and much of romance is attached on the treasure find, including the curse.

Tutankhamun is lying in his tomb, his face and feet bare to be shown to public. Not quite like the ancient priests thought the eternal life to be when they mummified him almost 3500 years ago. His facial features are still clear. Sasi was a bit freaked out of the mummies, he said they look like they would get up and start to walk. I think he has seen too many crappy movies. Nevertheless, I didn’t like to see the mummies either. I somehow was thinking that the dead should be allowed their rest.

Even more gruesome was in the Egyptian Museum in Cairo, where I went alone after Sasi had flown to Beirut. I had a bit of fever – I was joking I got the curse of Tutankhamun – and was a bit dizzy in the beginning. I had to get out of the mummy room since I started to feel sick in there. There was a warning that it might be to scary for children but it was quite macabre for me, too. All the hair and fingernails (both still with their henna colours), grimacing faces, twisted toes. A bit too much of reality, thank you.

Mind you, the museum was the scariest museum I have ever been anyhow. I went there in the evening when it was dark already outside, and inside the lights were really badly installed. Half dark corridors, badly lidded old-fashioned vitrines with weird stuff inside (like the spoons and spatulas used to take the brains and intestines outside in the mummification process), statues of monster-like gods, broken and almost forgotten items, half-open coffins, mummified crocodiles… There were things that scared the living bejesus out of me. My hairs up, I wandered in there, half terrified, half enjoying, like a kid watching a horror movie between the fingers.

On the other hand, the treasure of Tutankhamun was brightly lid and well presented. For me, the most interesting things were not the golden treasures (even though the golden face mask is cool – even if its a bit of cliché). No, I enjoyed the most about the everyday life items, especially the furniture – small chests of drawers and baskets that I would have been happy to have to our own home immediately.

In Luxor museum, both me and Sasi agreed the same thing: the most incredible thing is that all those things looked like brand new. Especially the sandals of Tutankhamun. Could be put on and have a little walk outside any time.

I really recommend to have a guide if you go to Luxor. We didn’t have one in the temples of Luxor and Karnak, and it was a mistake. I think it would have been thousand times more interesting if we would have known properly what we were looking – my knowledge of Egyptian history turned out to be limited, unfortunately (the basic course of Egyptology is so not enough in Luxor).

Our guide Aladdin, a proud father of a week old baby girl Jasmin, gave us plenty of interesting facts and made the history to live in the West bank of Nile – in the city of the dead. The city of the living (the ancient capital Thebes), unfortunately was to be left a bit more shadowy but, then again, so it is the case with me anyhow quite often.

Sasi claimed the ancient Egyptians were obsessed with the death but I don’t agree. I mean, what else Christianity and Islam, for example, are concentrating than afterlife? And don’t many Christians wear a crucifix as a decoration – some might think its weird since it describes a dead corpse on a torture instrument? At least the Egyptian symbol Ankh (the looped sort of a cross) is a key of life – and wearing the cross in the neck comes from Egyptian tradition, by the way.

So much more could be said. But what I remember the best is the starry sky painted in the tombs, the stupid Tuf-Tuf-train for tourists in the temple of Hatshepsut (hot-chicken-soup – as our guide advised to pronounce it if not remembered), and the face of the boy king. The real one, not the golden mask.

Maiku, whose curse of Tutankhamun seemed to be only mild. As far as we know…

Much ado about nothing – Pharaohs, part 1.

In Cairo, everyone wants baksheesh – money. And preferably without doing anything. We were walking in a middle class neighborhood, when a decently dressed young man walked by. He had one look to my blond hair, and I could hear the click in his head. Eyes lid, hand opened, and ‘baksheesh’ came out of his mouth. And we are talking about a guy who probably had relatively good job, not a beggar at all. Seriously, what is wrong with these people?

Cairo is huge, noisy and dirty – and huge. On our way to Giza, where the Pyramids are, we first toke a taxi for 10 minutes, then metro for 15mins and finally minibus for about 45 minutes. And still we had to walk about 10 minutes.

To get even near the Pyramids its a terrible hassle. Young men try to sell their postcards, crappy souvenirs or camel/horse rides so persistently its really annoying. Baksheesh, baksheesh, baksheesh. Even inside the area there is still some guys offering rides, but it has been calming down, because the archaeological authorities have been banning most of the touts to the site.

What comes to the Pyramids itself, I was somehow disappointed. I don’t know what I expected, or was it all the hassle and groups of tourists, but I didn’t really enjoy them much. And possibly its one of those things of which you have seen so many pictures, posters and fridge magnets that it has suffered from inflation.

We didn’t even go inside to any of them, since I have heard that if you suffer from smallest hint of claustrophobia, its not place to be. And my claustrophobia is a bit more than mild, so I didn’t even want to try to climb steep stairs in a narrow and low corridor, in heath and with hundreds of other people. Even Sasi didn’t want.

Instead, we went to see the Solar Boat Museum just behind the Cheops Pyramid. It was quite interesting how new that several thousand years old boat looked like but, then again, it was made of Lebanese ceder wood. And the planks were so big that the trees themselves must have been hundreds of years old when they cut them.

Sphinx is like one of those TV celebrities: if you have a change to see them in real life, they always appear to be smaller than you thought. And also rather hard to spot in the midst of the admirers. Safinkees, safinkees, buy safinkees, guys screamed piercingly – Arabs (even my husband) just cant say the word right. Which is not wonder as such, since the word is Greek; when Herodotus (the first modern historian and globe trotter) wrote about this marvel, he used a word from Greek Mythology – a beast of half man, half lion.

Original name of the creature is Ra-Herakhti, manifestation with sun god. It carries the face of Khafre, who was a pharaoh 4500 years ago. Its Sesheb Ankh, living image. Later, Arabs have started to call it Abu el-Houl, The Father of Terror (or fear). I never quite found out why.

Greeks also gave a new name for Tekhenu. It is better known nowadays with its Greek name Obelisk – because for Greeks, it looked like spits of kebabs.

Pyramids – done, Sphinx – done. Click, click from the book of must see places in the world. Other than that, I cant really recommend. And also, they DO look better in postcards.

In the weather report for Cairo that day was one word: dust. What kind of weather report is that, I was wondering, but got my answer in the Pyramids. Everything was hazy, due to high pollution and the end of the harvesting season, when farmers burn the fields, and smoke floats heavily even on top of the capital. With all that, all the photos look dust gray. (And you dont want to know what we blew out of our noses in the evening.)

Next day, the weather report was haze. No changes in weather, someone just decided to be more creative. We, on the other hand, were a bit hazy as well after a Halloween party by the Pyramids. After a few days of recovering, we headed for a night train taking us to south.

We arrived to Aswan in the late afternoon next day. The train was only 5 hours delayed, so we were lucky, and the whole trip was around 17 hours. And, after a few hours of sleep, we had to wake up at 2.30AM. The convoy to Abu Simbel would leave at 4.

We were packed to a minibus like chickens. It was really uncomfortable trip in the wee hours of the night, but we didn’t really have other options. Due to Egyptian security rules, tourist are only allowed to go there in convoys. Personally I think its a bit stupid, since it just makes it easier target for terrorists if they want to attack. Everyone knows the timetables of the convoys, and the routes, and all you need is a roadside bomb. There wasn’t really any kind of security forces present. It was just unnecessary and annoying, and also it means that you must buy a tour from a tourist agency, which I think, is the plot behind this all.

So we sat on each others laps, almost literally, for 3,5 hours. Then a stop of 2 hours in the Temples of Abu Simbel, and 3,5 hours back. The temples were magnificent and interesting, but to be totally honest with you, I don’t know whether it was really worth the trip like that.

Back in Aswan, we were so tired that it was getting hysterical. We had booked another tour to see the sights in Aswan, and the first stop was the unfinished obelisk. When we saw the huge block of granite on the ground, we just couldn’t hold it but burst to a hysterical laughter: is this what we came to see, block of a rock?

It wasn’t better in the High Dam of Aswan either. Somehow, you would just expect a phenomenal view, but it was rather lame, and not even so high at all. It looked like a wide peninsula instead.

The day ended good, though. The Isis Temple of Philae was breathtakingly beautiful. It stands in an island on Nile, and you have to take a boat to get there. We were there just when the sun was setting, making all the shadows long and golding the walls and its reliefs. The atmosphere was amazing, and the temple itself a beauty. No wonder Alexander the Great liked it, as well as Romans did. It was also the place where the last hieroglyphs were carved to the temple wall 24th of August, 396, and where Isis was still worshiped in 550 AD, much to a shock of Christian priests. It was the last pagan temple in the Mediterranean area.

Maiku, who suffered not only pharaonic phatigue but a curse of Tutankhamon as well. More about that in the next post.

Following the steps of Moses…

One of the pilgrimages in Middle East is Mount Sinai. This mountain climb of 2285 meter is a multinational experience. I will get there in a while, but before that allow me to tell you about our lazy days on the beach in unholy Dahab.

Dahab is not yet spoiled by mass tourism, its a compact place and can be counted as Egypt’s backpackers heaven: cheap diving and cheap accommodation and even wild parties – and some of the local attraction are the casual riots between Egyptians and Bedouins.

Every night the circle of horny dogs at Seven Heaven Hotel would meet and start their evening with wild wet dreams making bets if this would be the right night. The wild party at Tota or Rush, where beer and alcohol exists, and where foreigners hang out in the evening. The question you might ask is why would they think that there is hope of having anything like that in the middle of a conservative country like Egypt, but then again, what is banned is so wanted – a very well known proverb in the chaotic Arab world.

The sure thing is that Stella beer will be there to warm them and start feeding their horny brain cells with the hope, dreams of shagging a few girls or meeting other single female travellers from western countries. Yup, those were the boys of Dahab. Oh no, I don’t mean the locals but my new friends of lazy lifestyle, Australians, Brazilians, British, French etc…

The boys are not bad boys and they all are harmless, but they had hope that they could turn their idling into a wild party in this beach heaven. It was simply funny to see 10 guys trying their luck with one girl in one of the parties, sounded like wolves camping around their prey.

Now that was most of how Dahab sounded at night and it is no danger nor annoyance, Dahab is, in few words, drunken foreigners and diving freaks and awesome sea, clear clear water as you cannot imagine and hot warm sun.

But away from this little devilish land, you can see a holy mountain, huge as its peak rise all over south Sinai mountain chain, there Ali Baba every night at 11 welcome a bus stuffed of climber ants and tourists from different nationalities.

Ali Baba waits you after you bypass 4 different check-points and show your passport at many occasions to different type of uniformed personnel but you have no worry – after all this is Egypt, safe and tourist friendly aka as land of hassle.

Anyhow, you arrive at midnight to The Monastery of St. Catherine and park your little minivan next to tens of other tourist buses and start hearing the tips and tricks of your beloved guide. Our guide “Ali Baba” was a 19 years old Bedouin that lived his life climbing Mt. Sinai, he was so full of energy since the early morning arrival till to the peak before sunrise which was after all the target of our trip.

Climbing was not hard since we were a team of 14 well fit backpackers, but the number of the crowds, specially Russians, were elderly. The pilgrimage to Mt Sinai seems a very popular for older generations, and I was impressed to see 60-70 years old ladies climbing in that cold height in darkness. Yes! It was cold, I didn’t expect it but was warned ahead.

This is a pilgrimage for religious people because in the past Moses, while he was guiding his people to the promised land, went one night climbing Mt. Sinai where there was this burning bush and he received the famous Ten Commandments from God.

At 4.45 we reached that peak after a long climb and after the last 800 steps. It was just before sunrise. The sunrise was as beautiful as any other place, but I wouldn’t be mistaken if I said that the big number of crowd made a bit of difference. Luckily Ali Baba had his perfect hideout for us, a rock just for us away from the rest of the world to watch the sun rising from the land of the living to the land of the death.

Sasi writing this on the road again!

Into the blue

We have been really lazy lately to update our blog. Sorry about that. We had a fortnight break of the heavy travel, so to say, by the beach, first in Aqaba, Jordan, and then in Dahab, Egypt.

Most of the time we just hanged around, read books and relaxed, but also did some snorkeling, and I went scuba diving a few times. Red Sea is great destination for that with all its clear waters, visibility minimum 30 meters. I did some great and easy dives in Aqaba, shallow ones with loads of colourful fish and corals.

In Dahab I dived in the infamous Blue Hole, “World’s Most Dangerous Dive Site” or “Diver’s Cemetery”. It has claimed dozens of lives, true, but usually due to the divers’ own stupidity. It’s a 130m deep submarine pothole, with an easy entry in 6m. Accidents happen when divers attempt to find The Arch, a 26m long tunnel through the reef at depth of 52m. It’s not safe to dive this deep without technical diver training, and even then its challenging with all reduced light and visibility, currents, and nitrogen narcosis begins to have an influence.

Even if am sometimes a bit reckless am not suicidal, so I didn’t even try to find The Arch, don’t worry. The dive itself was really cool, especially the entry from a place called The Bells, where you descend through a narrow rock gorge into the blue. That feeling, submerging into the depths, is my favourite thing in diving. Its like flying without a fear of crashing down. Its pure joy.

Also a dive site called The Canyon was really cool, a sort of a tunnel in 27m. The air bubbles of the divers’ cache in the tunnel for minutes and then brake through slowly from the small holes, so the whole thing sparkles like a giant glass of champagne underwater. Simply beautiful.

I like my depths, but Sasi loves his heights, so he decided to climb up to Mount Sinai. He will tell you more about that later.

Maiku, now suffering from pharaonic fatigue.

Visiting Ariel the Mermaid

One of our differences has been frustrating for both of us; the fact that I am not a swimmer neither a diver has been like a poisonous Lionfish sting. She has always been sad that I could not share her moments.

Lionfish

Lionfish

Maiku decided to go diving when we were in outstanding Aqaba, where diving sounded like the national sport of the town, and every visitor has to experience the Red Sea and its marvelous creatures – the sea life is just outstanding.

As a very young Sasi, I had an awful experience with the water that created a bit of phobia of water but, during this trip, I surely became more and more defying my fears since we are spending so much time in coastal areas.

When you fear something, you have to fight it to get over it, that was the simple theory of human nature, and seeing Maiku having all these wonderful experiences and hearing her stories of the colored fishes and the sea life down there, we decided to take the risk and go snorkel with her hand in hand.

Snorkeling requires some knowledge of swimming you would say, but thanks God for the 2 main things that helped me discover the underwater heaven: the innovation of the century – yellow, blue and green striped life jacket – and having the reef so close to the shore, and we simply did it…

Maiku’s patience is one of her virtues, she isn’t the person that is going to let you be a wimp and give place to your fears, in fact she pushes you hard and she is good at that but, after talking in Aqaba with few professional divers, we came to the conclusion that a close person that you will give you the feeling of trust is not the perfect match to teach you swimming. So we decided to wait for our next destinations after Egypt; maybe we will find a good swimming instructor.

Thinking now that even though I went through some terrifying moments when I went into the deeper water and when I didn’t feel my balance, I still managed to get going and discover this beautiful underworld and it felt so good afterward.

This underworld where all seemed like if you were in heaven, it was a different world, a different planet or even a different galaxy for me, all what blue, colored, black and then clear.

The colors of this place, the beauty of it, the sea-urchins hiding under the corals and the jeweled-color fish swimming, and the small tiny fish here and there and the corals and there is so many more that I had no clue that they existed below there. The overall experience was a pure joy!

Snorkeling became one of my most beautiful experiences during this trip, a hard task for a non-swimmer, a defying one and a life changing experience in my case, at least mentally.

My post today is dedicated to the memory of the old Sasi who never dared to get even in the water, the Sasi that was terribly scared of the water. An accomplishment is that today I am much more trusting the water, I am much more willing to be part of that experience of seeing the sea life, but – don’t ask me to dive, I am a still bit paranoid about that!

Sasi, a fan of the Red Sea life.

The Big Blue

The Big Blue

Red Fish

Red Fish

Maiku is very sorry about the bad quality of the photos. Borrowed film camera and Egyptian photo print shop is a dreadful combination. Cheap underwater camera for sale, anyone?