DAY 17 - LETTING GO
SYNOPSIS: A stormy ride on the feluka got us back to Daraw from where we took a micro bus to Edfu to see one of the best preserved temples of Egypt. A word about a lost camera, buses, prices and hotels. Arrival in Luxor.
Mustafa entertained us with all sorts of games on the feluka last night. He is such a fun guy to be with and full of ideas of how to pass the time at night under a starry sky. From dominoes to card games, to tricks, he had us laughing all evening.
Before we tugged in he asked our Spirit Man Kasper to pray for wind for the next day. Yesterday, we had to take a taxi from Daraw - the place where the camel markets are held- to Kom Ombo, since the wind had died down prematurely in the day. We could not have gotten to Kom Ombo in time before the temple would have closed. The crew has special places where they dock and from Daraw we could not go back to it - about 4 km against the current. They had to call friends with a motor boat which pulled us back to the landing place which I described yesterday. It's good to have some motorized vehicles when you need them. But it's also nice to see how you simply have to resign to the forces of nature. Your schedule will not be set by you. You have to let go.
This morning, there was so much wind, practically a storm, that we almost did not make it back to Daraw from where we were going to take a bus onwards to Edfu. What had taken the motor boat almost half an hour last night, took us less than fifteen most exciting minutes. In three days we had not seen this much wind and it was amazing to see all three of our crew members work their hardest to keep the feluka from tipping over. Well, I don't know if they can actually tip over - Mustafa was not about to tell, but we were literally zigzagging the Nile going sideways. All of our things had gone under the wooden planks for safe keeping. If you were on the low side, you were inches away from the choppy water and if you were on the opposite of the boat you seemed to loom over the scene. It was a bit scary, but it also was great fun. But the crew can only do this for short distances. It takes too much muscle. If we would not have had to meet a taxi that we arranged for yesterday, they would probably have waited it out.
I took a great video of this adventure with my small Canon camera and that was the last I saw of it... By the time we reached Edfu, I could not find it anywhere. I thought I had packed it... It was a very good, expensive, small camera with a super zoom; my daily tool when my big Nikon was just too conspicuous and way too heavy. Is it still on the boat? Did I leave it behind on the dock when I packed my things? Was it stolen on the bus? Did I forget it at the bathroom I used on the way to the station? Was it taken at the crummy hotel where we left our luggage in Edfu? I will never know. But after combing through all of my luggage inch by inch three times over, I have to accept it: It's gone. I have to let it go. What else could I do?
We took one of those converted pick-up trucks to the micro-bus station in Kom Ombo. It has a press-board roof for shade and some rough benches to sit down. These vehicles take over a dozen people, often hanging on to the outside of the car, riding precariously on some ominous step-like projections. There seem to be no traffic or vehicle regulations and if there are, they certainly are not enforced. We filled that thing with our various over-sized pieces of luggage. Kom Ombo used to be off limits to foreigners and Mustafa was reluctant to let us go to the bus station without knowing if we could move on. We could. No need for an expensive taxi as everyone was trying to tell us...
I love this micro-bus system. I encountered it all over the Middle East and I wrote about it in my blogs last year. There is no schedule, just a gathering place where dozens of micro-buses congregate and where the drivers call out the destinations of their bus. Once at least 10 people are in, the bus leaves. You may take off in 5 minutes or 2 hours. Then it's fast. The people here like everywhere in this area of the world drive like the devils. Up to 15 people are picked up on the road. They just stand there and hold their thumbs in the wind. The prices are reasonable and affordable even for the locals. For us, they are outright cheap. For less than one dollar we went from Kom Ombo to Edfu and for less than 2 from Edfu to Luxor. The draw back is that the microbus stations can be a bit off the beaten path and with the luggage we had, we had to hire a taxi to take us to town for almost as much money again. But let's face it. I have been able to live on an overall low budget in Egypt so far.
I have never paid more than $20 for a hotel, in fact, that is high. My average is $15. I have often eaten for less than $3 per day - water, juice, bananas, a falaffel for dinner. The most expensive things are the entrance tickets. Egypt has a dramatic two tier system. In Abu Simbel, for example, a student ticket was $10, a full ticket $20, but locals would pay 50 cents. I approve of this even though I would like the overall price for tourists to be a bit more reasonable. For most mid-sized temples along the way the full-priced tickets range from $6-10. I caught on to the fact that as a teacher I am often (not always) granted a student ticket as well. Too bad that I did not bring my WCC picture ID. But I have some business cards and they match my passport and with this combination I have been able to save some money.
Speaking of hotels: I had intended to stay in Edfu overnight. The guys were going to go onwards to Luxor. First, we stopped at the budget hotel recommended in the Lonely Planet - guess what? They raised their prices. I found this to be true more often than not. Once a hotel is in the LP, they jack up their prices, up to nearly double of what the LP lists. This is a drawback of LP recommendations. Since I was not willing to pay that price, the person at the reception pointed us to a cheap hotel around the corner. I have never seen anything like this: Dirty stairs, no light. An awfully grimy shared bathroom with backed up plumbing. The wires of the light switch in the room dangling and the lights not working until you wiggle the wires...! But I had no choice. With my heavy suitcase and an extra bag and the day progressing, I had to do something. We bargained the price down from $10 to $6 and at least had a place to put all of our luggage and to see the temple at the perfect early afternoon hours. On my way back to the hotel I was so terrified that I decided that the $6 had served their purpose as luggage storage. I had gotten a shower out of it - yes... After three days on the boat I really would have showered anywhere... And so we just turned our backs to the hotel and all three of us moved on to Luxor with yet another micro-bus where we found another LP recommended hotel which had jacked up their prices. But since all of Luxor is still empty - the tourists are slowly returning though - we could bargain. I truly enjoy this little splurge. I have a TV, internet in the room, a balcony for laundry, a roof terrace looking right down onto the row of sphinxes leading up to Luxor Temple! The guys shared a room. Tomorrow we will part and move on to less expensive accommodations again. I will be heading for the west bank.
At Edfu, as expected, there was nobody. Rows of shops were boarded up. Dozens of horse-buggies were standing around idle. The temple was ours. I ran into a young tourist police officer named Hassan, who struck a conversation with me. He was happy to see Mubarak gone. I heard that in various places: The police, which was looked at by the people as most corrupt, has taken sides with the people. In Aswan they staged a demonstration on one day asking for fair wages in exchange for stopping lawless corruption. Interesting! But for now, they are still totally underpaid and over extended. Hassan turned into a self appointed guide who allowed me to enter the roped off temple area, showed me a secret passage way and offered to climb with me on top of the roof. However, I had to do some quite precarious climbing on very narrow ledges 6 feet above ground and I chickened out. But Kasper was in sight and I sent him up with my camera on my behalf. Of course, Hassan got his bakshish. Why not.
In order to brighten my mood over the loss of the camera, I shared some whiskey and some chocolate with my travel companions in the evening. We topped that off with some fresh dates and shared stories of mishaps while traveling. Kasper is on his first world trip. So far, he had no stories other than being stuck in Alexandria while unrest broke out in Egypt. He spent it mainly at the mall drinking tea with his friend. With all my travels going back to my hitch-hiking days at age 16, I have surprisingly few bad stories to tell. And even Aubrey, who has traveled more or less for the last 20 years, only had one really bad story for us. But that one was truly horrific: In Bolivia, he and his wife one early morning got attacked by a gang of five men who specialized in robbing tourists in areas of low traffic and at "off" times. They knew a pressure point at your throat which in a pretty painful way knocks you unconscious. The good thing is that there are no side- or after effects. But when both of them woke up again, there was nothing left of anything. Luggage, money, passports, everything had been taken! Oh man! I put a prayer into my pantheon at night that I will be spared such an experience, please! I guess, losing a camera is a small thing after all. I am sure it will make somebody really happy.
Good night.