Wed 24th – Wed 31st
Since we have more than the usual vague outline this week, this is where we’ll be at:
Wed 24 – Damascus, Syria
Thu 25 – Palmyra
Fri 26 – Hama - Palmyra morning/Hama evening
Sat 27 – Hama – day trip to Ma’aret an Nu’aman, Serjilla, Al-Bara and Ebla
Sun 28 – Hama – day trip to Musyaf, Hosn Suleiman
Mon 29 – Hama
Tue 30 – Damascus
Wed 31 – Beirut, Lebanon
Do Not Go Gently…
I stared down at the plastic tub in my hand, still unsure what to do with it.
“Er…urine?” I delicately enquired, all too aware of my habit of saying English words I didn’t know the Arabic for with a French accent.
She either hadn’t heard, or ignored my feeble entreaty. It was left to Karen to confirm the full horror of the situation.
I stared down at the little white box. The only thing I knew for certain, underneath the aching head, the constant shivering, the weak legs and the fevered brow, was that I would not, under any circumstances, be handing a sample of my ‘stool’ to this nice young woman in a veil.
We’d gotten back from Petra the night before feeling ‘good’ tired. We’d spent the day clambering over boulders, and admiring the genuinely breath-taking buildings carved from the sheer rock of the valley, Indiana Jones theme in mind (at 38JD (39 euro) it’s the most I’ve ever paid for the privilege of visting a single tourist attraction ever).
We’d arrived home and what had been mild aches and pains when I went to bed at 10pm, was a full blown fever by 2am. Or 3am. In fact, it could have been 10:15pm as my concept of time was by this stage little more than vague ideas of Before Pain’ and ‘After Pain.’ My back felt like it had been filled with broken glass. My head felt as though it was in a vice, I was hot enough to boil an egg on and I had so little energy I could only just open my ’Big Book of Similies’ to the ‘Clichéd’ chapter. A makeshift camp had been set up in the bathroom.
I felt like I’d run a marathon and then gotten paralytically drunk. And at times, began to wonder if indeed that was what had happened. By 2:30 AP, I was allocating my possessions to family and friends and wondering whether gravestones could come in neon. Alas, my inheritance calculations are lost to the world as Karen refused to transcribe any of it for me, too busy was she in getting water, tablets, insurance details and enough toilet roll to have ensured the decimation of an area of rainforest the size of Wales.
As I protested with what little breath I had that she should be taking down what could be my last words, Karen sensibly went to the reception of the hostel and called a doctor.
Which was why I found myself in the clinic, being propositioned by the nurse.
Sanity prevailed when a bloodtest turned out to suffice and several rounds of ‘drip’ (Drips? Dri?) later all was well again. Turns out I had a bit of a stomach bug. I suppose it’s given me a new perspective on life. At the very least I have a very impressive bruise on my arm from the IV treatment to show for it.
And ultimately I can say, “I lived…”
A new-found respect for Daniel Craig
Always re-apply. That’s my main message of the day. Don’t be foolish enough to put sunscreen on in the morning, spend said morning swimming and then sit out in the scorching heat for the rest of the afternoon. I went to bed positively glowing last night, and with my face a bright red except for the imprint of the goggles around my eyes. Obviously I won’t be posting up any pictures as they’re far too embarrassing. And, yes, I realise that if it was Karen with a large white patch across her eyes and nose, I’d be the first to dedicate an entire website to photos of it.
We arrived in Dahab on Saturday morning after an 18 hour overnight bus journey from Luxor, after several backpackers in Luxor advised us to go there. It’s a nice place, and very different from the previous places we’ve visited. We’re actually staying in a great hotel- it has dorms which is where we are, as well as fancy apartments- and the benefit of staying there is that you get to avail of all the same facilities as the rest of the hotel does- free cooked breakfast/tea and coffee/swimming pool etc.
Yesterday I went snorkeling in the sea. I tried not to act too self-consciously when, surrounded by svelte Russians and tanned, toned surfers, I lowered my pasty white body into the water, leaving a little pool of suncream lotion on the surface of the water as I disappeared under. As I surfaced from the sea, the sun reflecting off the glistening water on my back, I walking slowly towards shore. Any hope of pulling off the Daniel Craig exit was ended around the time I flicked several large pebbles at Karen’s bemused face thanks to my flippers. My goggles had also steamed up at this stage and I had to stop and wipe them. Then my contact lens fell out.
It’s possible I need to work at this swimming thing- it’s harder than it looks.
Looking out across the bay you can see the hills of Saudi Arabia shimmering in the heat, which makes it all the more strange that just a ferry ride across from one of the most fundamentalist Muslim countries in the world, scantily clad European weekenders surf, dive, drink and party at all hours of the day (you can see just how close the hills are in this picture). The waterfront is genuinely beautiful- you feel you’ve walked into a holiday brochure when you see the Red Sea stretching out in front of you, the distinct mountains surrounding the town, the beach side restaurants and bars, and the sun presiding over it all. It’s a welcome change from the dust and dirt of Cairo and Luxor but, all the same, three days is about the most you could reasonably want to stay without getting bored.
We’re planning on leaving tomorrow and spending the night in Nuweiba further up the coast before getting the ferry to Jordan on Wednesday afternoon.
Ruins, Bananas, Football
Still based in the small, but busy east bank of Luxor. We’ve been to Luxor Temple and Karnak here over the last few days and been mightily impressed by both. It’s impossible to feel anything other than awe and insignificance wandering around these huge pillars and statues built around 4000 years ago. And it’s amazing to think all of this phenomenal work was going on when the Irish were probably just getting to grips with fire. Or walking. Or discovering whiskey.
The two sites were the most enjoyable things we’ve done so far and, we thought, more remarkable than the pyramids (although we didn’t actually go inside them). Both sites are pretty ruined but what’s left does give you a tantalising glimpse into the full splendour and power of the temples. Looking at these great pillars (134 in one area), under the blue sky, with the distinctive hills of the Valley of the Kings behind you, would could almost transport yourself back in time and imagine the halls filled with the noise and bustle of ancient Egypt.
After Luxor Temple we got a feluca down the Nile to Banana Island. The island itself, where they grow (surprise, surprise) bananas was pretty nondescript. When you’ve seen one banana tree you’ve seen them all really. It was quite enjoyable to watch a group of French tourists pose for pictures for one another eating bananas- God knows what their long suffering friends and relatives back home will think when confronted with several dozen pictures of Pierre er…eating a banana. They also provide a big plate of bananas at the end of the short walk around the island but since noone can eat more than two or three in one sitting, this is also rather pointless. The highlight of the whole thing was the actual boat trip there and back which was gloriously languid and calm and beautiful. It was fascinating seeing people working and living along the very banks of the river, as they must have done for thousands of years. We also had the whole boat to ourselves apart from the owner who was manning it, although I did help out by standing at the front and pulling some strings while saying words like ‘starboard’ and ‘hull.’ Frankly, I’m not sure we would have made it back had I not been there.
Last night we braved a visit to Ye Olde English Pub to watch the England – Egypt match on TV. (In the words of our Lonely Planet guide; “darts and pool just feel plain wrong to us in this heat..!”) We went with a couple of guys we’d met from the hostel- as expected the roof terrace is ideal for meeting other travellers and getting advice from them. When Aaron, a backpacker from Devon, England, was telling us the best hostels in Jordan, Syria and Turkey, it almost felt like someone was giving us the cheats for a computer game or answers for an exam! We went to the pub with Aaron and his compatriot, Ben from London and with each bottle of beer went our chances of getting up early today to see the Valley of the Kings. Egypt took an early lead but the excitement in the pub (filled with Egyptians) dissipated when England took control and the end was played out with the result in no doubt.
So, a nice quiet day today , hopefully involving the Mummification Museum and a couple of cafes, Valley of the Kings tomorrow, and back up to Cairo again at the weekend. Pics to follow!
A Roof-Garden in Luxor
Left Cairo on the overnight train to arrive in Luxor this morning. While the hostel we stayed at in Cairo was perfectly adequate, the lack of a communal area meant it was hard to meet any fellow travelers. Not that we’re getting sick of one another, you understand, we just want some…‘variety!’
We’re now ensconced in the unusual surroundings of the Bob Marley Hostel in Luxor. When we arrived today we had the odd sight of a roof-garden covered in Marley memorabilia, a perfect blue sky above, the hills of the Valleys of the Kings in the distance and rather incongruously, several hot air balloons hovering just over the ancient tombs.
This is the furthest south either of us have been before and while the heat isn’t massively higher than in Cairo, it still has the effect of a kind of physical blow to you whenever you step out of the shade. The plan is to get up early tomorrow and take in the Valley of the Kings before the hottest part of the day when we can come back to the hostel and stay in the shade. Oh, and make some new friends!
Tips for using the Metro in Cairo, #552
If you are male, it is inappropriate to get into one of the many female-only carriages.
It is even more inappropriate to walk unheedingly into female carriages reserved primarily for schoolgirls.
You have been warned.
Videos! Videos! Videos!
Yes, finally the two of us in all of our glory, in two mercifully short video clips, taken today and on Monday. At least they prove where we are…
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