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Review from trip to Egypt and Jordan The tale of Cleo and Marc A begins. March 23, 2007 Marc A
decides we are only taking carry-on luggage. I finally go through my
stuff one last time at noon, and he agrees to cross-pack in case we
have to check stuff in Rome. I leave him to it. He is
not-so-secretly convinced I cannot pack. I am not-so-secretly
convinced it's in my best interest if he thinks it. We rolled at
3:30 pm. Rain, two traffic lanes out of commission on the Garden
State Parkway and a great limo driver means we arrive right on time.
We fly Alitalia via Rome to Cairo. We step up to check in. The agent
expects paper tickets. Fortunately, the agent summons the maestro of
the reservation system immediately. Maestro coaxes our boarding
passes out of the machine AND our Continental mileage numbers into
the machine lickety-split. Bravo! We decided to spring for business
class travel. The big bonus is Virgin Club lounge access. Champagne,
and a free computer terminal calling to me. Oh yea, baby. I amuse
myself by looking at the hotels' websites. My god! The first one,
Mena House, has a stellar view of the Pyramids. It's part of the
Oberoi group, whose hotels in India and Bali were simply fantastic.
Cleo will have the option of riding sidesaddle on a horse or
majestically sauntering in by camel. After Cleo's public appearance,
she can stop by the spa for a rejuvenating treatment. I like this
trip already. The Old Cataract House in Aswan is where Agatha
Christie penned "Death on the Nile". It's part of the Sofitel chain,
so food will be sublime. Boarding is in twenty minutes. My fingers
are crossed for lots of sleep on the plane, Marc A's cold subsiding
and a magical visit to the land of Cleo and Marc A. Where do I get a
litter to carry me around? Cleo I woke as the plane is hurtling down on its landing path into a very hazy sky. Evidently there was a good sized sandstorm early in the day. We land safely, get off plane, find Mr. Nasser, the logistics representative for our tour, waiting for us in the line to clear immigration. He hands us our Egyptian visa stamps and proceeds to tell us where to pick up our luggage. Marc A points to the carry on collection next to us. Mr. Nasser didn't argue, just pointed us to an open line to exit the airport. We left the airport in record time. President Mubarek's motorcade was coming down the freeway in the opposite direction as we were headed to Giza. I was thinking, “Ker & Downey REALLY pulls out all the stops! A Presidential welcome for us?? WOW!” In reality, he'd come to welcome the secretary-general of the UN. Mena House is at least 1 hour 15 minutes from the airport and it is drop-dead gorgeous. It's a royal hunting lodge from 1860. It's got strong Ottoman influence in the building and antiques, since Egypt was part of the Ottoman Empire at the time the building was constructed. We've got one of the palace rooms; most of the resort is an add-on from the 1970s. The room is fine but could use a facelift. Gorgeous scented and unscented flowers are in abundance everyone, exceeded only by the amount of gold leaf and stenciled metal light fixtures. They have a spray of peach colored anthurium that must each be 10" across. There is a golf course across the street, where golfers play under the pyramids. Now THAT's a golf course with a view. Even the club dog is extremely friendly. The pool area is inviting and, hee hee, the belly dancer performance starts at 1:30 am. For reasons we do not fully understand, we are to be out of the hotel by 3:30 am for a 6 am flight to Aswan. No other activities are planned for Tuesday. Ever efficient and activity-seeking travelers, our strategy is to skip dinner in favor of sleep immediately after Monster Cairo Museum day tomorrow, setting the alarm for 1 am and catching the belly dancer show, eat a leisurely 3 am breakfast and be at the door for Mr. Nasser at 3:30 am. Egypt is well staffed with tourism police. We feel every bit as safe here (if not more so) as America. Our guide, Meged, is not only taking us around Cairo, but is flying around to the rest of Egypt with us. As it turns out, no one else signed up for this tour's departure date. Can you imagine K&D will fly your guide around with just two guests at a group tour rate? The personal service level on this trip is unlike any we’ve experienced to date. Meged is a wizard at Egyptian history. His special interest is building construction, so he and Marc A are having scintillating conversations about proper foundation support and pyramid/burial chamber design. Marc A, thankfully, is feeling way better today. Last night we went to the Sound & Light show at the Pyramids. It was lovely to see everything lit up. Afterwards, it was a quick dinner at the main restaurant (open 24/7) and then bedtime. The internet room is also open 24/7. Connection is about US$25 for 2 hours. Today was the tour of Memphis. We saw the other king of Memphis, Ramses II, minus one leg. I swore the spirit of Elvis was floating around the place. Next was Sakkara, with the first pyramid and a bunch of interesting ruins. Lunch was at a lovely open-air zoo come restaurant. A guy, no kidding, was sitting with a lion cub (!). For a fee, you can pet the cub & take a picture for the Christmas card. After lunch, it was back to the Pyramids to see the Solar Boat & the structures up close. We passed on the option of going into the Pyramids. Last stop was the Sphinx. We nearly had a collision with a careening camel running at full speed across our path. We were tossed right out of our seats! No damage,
but welcome to transportation tribulation in Egypt. We are clear on
the fact camels have the right-of-way. We got to a major pedestrian
jam at the entryway to the Sphinx. Promptly at 4 pm, the tourist
police started herding everyone out of area. I now know what it
feels like to be in a mosh pit, minus the band. Traffic here is not
quite as crazy as India but close. At the pyramids, a guy on a
donkey trots up and smiles, saying "TAXI!!". It's camels, donkeys,
horses, car horns and a bit of prayer. Tomorrow is a very full day.
I've already begged off three straight hours of the museum. Meged
said I could look at the jewelry from the Tut exhibit and then be
excused. I like this guy already. Marc A, though, may get more time
on building design and engineering aspects. I may go shopping. I did
spy a store where I can get the Cleo clothes ... Until next time
Cleo March 30, 2007 Ambling through Abu Simbel Yesterday's adventures were the best yet. We got up early and checked out of the Old Cataract hotel. I learned cataract is the arabic word for water fall. We headed off to the airport after breakfast to see Abu Simbel. Meged the Master forewarns us to step lively so we will have maximum time to see the temples. It is HOT down there. The temples are both an archeological as well as engineering masterpiece. The Egyptians moved the temple, with a lot of financial and engineering help, before they put in the new high dam. What a contrast to what we remember from China's decisions with their ancient sites along the Yangtze. So far, it is clear Meged is grateful the USA has provided so much of the money to preserve Egypt's great treasurers. Abu Simbel is one of many projects he's mentioned where the USA has been very generous with money, time and talent. After we return from Abu Simbel, we boarded MS Triton. Sure enough, this is Cleo and Marc A's return barge trip up the Nile. The ship is stunningly beautiful. It is a perfect ship. Lunch was delicious and crazy generous. "Help yourself to the salad buffet". Umm.. salad bar? For TWO of us on board? That’s not the relevant point. The tour operator is running the program, and if it’s in the program, that's what they gladly provide. After lunch, they took our dinner orders. The accountant in me thought that was a good idea. The ship has an internet connection, but it is sporadic in terms of operation. Draft any e-mails in word processing software, then paste it into the message. Otherwise, you can lose the connection if you try to type the e-mails whilst online. I have switched to cocktails this trip as the wine is horrendously expensive if it's imported and the Egyptian wine is so-so. Then again, how can one resist Omar Khayyam Cabernet Sauvignon? At the Old Cataract, you get a slight price break if you order from their set cocktail menu. The funny part is they don't necessary know how to make the drinks on the cocktail menu. I opted for a Tom Collins, which I last drank in college. I got four different versions (only one tasted close to what I remember) and every bartender told Gary they don't make that drink. Three out of four of those bartenders were telling the truth. I began to see this is the perfect "stump the bartender" drink in Egypt. The staff is all male, and we are definitely in Muslim culture. The men only talk to Gary unless I ask something directly, and that's done out of respect. The bartender, though, figured out in about 30 minutes I am Da Queen. I tried the Tom Collins cocktail again on board. Mo’ones had never heard of it, either. I am five for five now in stumping the bartender. Vodka tonics are easier for all of us, so that will be Cleo's drink the next few days. We were offered an add-on tour to see a Nubian village. The village visits were some of the high points in other travels we’ve enjoyed, so we signed on. It was grand! We took a motorboat to the village about half an hour away. What a feast for the eyes! The Nubians revel in color, art and all kinds of objects. Not a one of them wore eyeglasses. The men often work away from the families, and the grandmothers keep it all together for the women and children. I got a hand-made woven shawl. I found a Nubian headdress to go with my Blue Demon Nubian dress. Marc A got a Nubian hat. Dinner a deux was 8 pm and was also very good. After a long day, it was lights out around 10 pm. We set sail this morning at 6 am and had the option of breakfast in our room, on the sun deck or back in the restaurant. The winner is .. the sun deck! After that, two temple visits during the course of the day and lots of time to relax and watch life along the Nile. Cheers, Cleo April
2, 2007 Arrival in Amman Whew! Cleo and Marc A have now arrived
in Amman, where all the buildings are made of white stone and, to
paraphrase Garrison Keiller, all the children must be above average.
Each experience traveling up the Nile was better than the next. The
first temple featured the crocodile god Sobek, who figures
prominently in the Egyptian Evil Empire crowd. Sure enough, we had
the Guide Gladiator Games break out. There were two river boats
overflowing with European guests, and Meged the Master with the two
of us in tow. The jousting was fierce around the Egyptian version of
the Palm Pilot organizer, and of course Meged was the winner. Then
we took on the race to the back of the temple, where the groups were
getting first the explanations in Italian and then in German. Each
guide tailored their explanations; for the group of 50, much of the
time was spent rounding up the guests and little on explaining the
key scenes of temple carvings. My mother had told me several things
about her trip to Egypt. I realized there is a real difference what
you learn about Egypt, largely dependent on the guide’s knowledge
and skill. Next we went on to Edfu, where we appeared in between the
large groups. We had the temple to ourselves! What a remarkable
opportunity. We even got a clear picture of the inner sanctum. Meged
says that photo op is rarely available. Meged’s mojo works again.
Back onboard, we lazed on the sun deck. I found "Death on the Nile"
in the bookcase. What a perfect setting for reading the whodunit! We
finished the day with another lovely dinner a deux, a nightcap and
sleep. The ship was docked at night, so there’s no concern for lack
of sleep or if one is prone to motion sickness. We made our way up
to Luxor. The Karnak temple complex simply took our breath away. We
went back that evening for another perspective during the sound and
light show. A cranky Brit was muttering "why don't they just name it
walk amongst illuminated ruins?" so she obviously expected something
different. We returned to a special Egyptian dinner, and I broke out
my Nubian Nymph look in honor of the chef. The folks on board were
thrilled we were going native in a hurry. The next morning, I went
looking for the hot tub, only to find a bird trapped in the gym. I
tried to set it free, which turned into half the staff helping me
corner the bird
for release. They could not figure out
what I was doing, but we all got a workout. Once the bird was
successfully freed, I returned to the sun deck to have a cold drink.
One of the deck hands came up to me, with the bird in hand. He was
so anxious to please, he thought I wanted to keep it. Too funny! The
last day was the visit to the Valley of the Kings, Queens and the
temple of Hapshepsut. This was Marc A's favorite visit in Egypt. The
paintings in the temples are sporadic; the tombs sparkle with
complete paintings in fine detail and brilliant color. In China, the
paint on the terra cotta warriors had faded significantly within
about 40 years; it's more than 3,000 years and the colors of the
Egyptian tombs are still vibrant. Amazing! We had a gala farewell
dinner awaiting us. This is the only cruise we’ve taken where the
captain had nothing to do with the passengers. The Hotel Director is
fully responsible for the guests onboard. The chef proudly carved
the full tenderloin of beef after we finished our Red Sea lobster
first course. He put great care into preparing a memorable meal for
us. Finally, the ship actually brought a belly dancer and whirling
dervish (Egyptian style, not Turkish Sufi style) for our
entertainment. They lit up the disco just for that show. We had a
blast. I'd post pictures but they are complete fuzz from all the
flourishes the performers incorporated into their acts. We left this
morning and spent most the day in transit. Marc A received his
keffiah (?) headdress upon arrival in Jordan. Our meet and greet
guide was helpful, but did not share Mr. Nasser’s laser-like focus.
We are touring historic sights outside of Amman tomorrow and then
arriving at Petra for a two-night stay. More later, Cleo April 2,
2007 Journey to Jerash We were commenting at dinner tonight that we
not only turned our watches forward one hour between Cairo and
Amman, but also went through time warp of about one century. The
hotel here is magnificent with a nice view of the al Hussein mosque.
The guests and employees are sophisticated and I have yet to see a
woman in a veil. I can't quite describe it, but it's also sterile
vs. the rhythm of life we experienced in Egypt. We find ourselves
really missing Da Boyz (Meged and the cruise staff) this evening. In
Egypt, we committed at least five international faux pas, lacking
sufficient understanding of one another's cultural norms. Their
cultural norm is to find a way to recover from it quickly, thank
goodness. Marc A was introduced to the phrase "en shel Allah", and
it’s use in Egypt. It means "God Willing". It's the universal
response to a direct question about anything to happen in the
future. What a useful phrase. Not only does it keep you humble, it's
the perfect excuse if stuff gets screwed up. By the time we left the
ship, he was a master of "en shel Allah". In return, Marc A shared
some American cultural wisdom with Meged. Meged has a good sense of
how to walk the line between caring for clients and respecting his
family. Nonetheless, you can appreciate if he's on the Triton for
four days and his wife is at home alone, this can create tension.
Marc A introduced Meged to the creed of "What happens in Vegas,
STAYS in Vegas!" It was a breakthrough moment. Conclusion: Egypt
snuck up on both of us and captured our hearts. We will resume our
touring in Jordan at 0800 hours tomorrow. I found a spot on the Dead
Sea near one of our stops tomorrow where not only Cleopatra but also
the Queen of Sheba reputedly visited. That may get negotiated into
our tour today. We got a great brochure of stuff to do in Jordan. We
start in Jerash and follow the Desert Highway to Medaba, finishing
up in Petra for a two-night stay. The next day is a full tour of
Petra. On Thursday, we'll start a marathon stretch. We first visit
Wadi Rum all day, drive to Amman and start the very long trek home.
Cheers, Cleo April 4, 2007
Petra Pilgrimage Executive Summary: One of the most spectacular
places I've ever been. It's one of those places where the pictures
can't do it justice. You've just got to go to experience the whole
environment. It's about 3 miles from the entrance to the park to the
lunch stop. Crowne Plaza operates the lunch restaurant. The food is
very good here. It is also the cleanest toilet stop we've had in
Jordan. You can get in & out via walking, horse ride, donkey ride,
camel ride or horse carriage. If you have back problems, you must
stick to walking as there are no springs on the carriages. You must
walk carefully, given all the animals parading along your route. No
shortage of natural fertilizer here, so choose clean-up friendly
footwear. There are further treks from the lunch stop that are
spectacular and physically demanding. Shopping includes handmade
Bedouin fabrics (jackets, pillowcases), necklaces and silver
bracelets, rugs, and sand art jars that are worth buying. The
sellers are largely the Bedouin people. They are not shy in the
least about asking for tips or selling you all kinds of stuff. For
the best quality stuff, go outside the park past the Movenpick to
the "Made in Jordan" shop. Decorated ostrich eggs that rival those
in South Africa are available. I did not compare prices Da Details:
Petra's quick history: The Nabadeans (circa 600 BC) set up their
burial grounds in this canyon. They were later conquered by the
Romans, who added much of their buildings and culture. Finally, the
Druids (still a sect in Syria) came into power through circa 1100. I
believe there was an earthquake that pretty much shuttered the role
of Petra. It was rediscovered in the early 1800's by Burkhardt. You
see ruins from the three primary civilizations whilst here. Bedouins
have lived in this area so know it well. The area just behind
Petra's canyon was a caravan stopping point. The area surrounding
Petra is quite green. Our hotel is literally 100 feet from the
entrance to the park. As such, it caters to large tour groups, all
on half-board. The dinner buffet was a real madhouse. We decided to
skip it the second night. Jordan is putting on the full-court press
to get Petra voted in as one of the Seven New Wonders of the World.
There were no fewer than 12 computers in the visitor's center so you
could cast your ballot. There are lots of wonderful choices amongst
the 21 finalists. It reminds me of good ol' Chicago machine voting.
Since Jordan is a small country (6 million population vs. 1.1
billion in India to vote for the Taj Mahal), they need to get out
the vote. Lots of the souvenir stalls sell sand art made from the
sand in the Petra canyon. They will write your name in the sand if
you give them a few hours. We exercised our indulgent grandparent
responsibilities, asking for bottles made with the grandchildren’s
names spelled into the sandscape. Once THAT important familial duty
was discharged, we headed into the park. The whole area is peaceful
and awe-inspiring. Think the Grand Canyon with smatterings of
Pompeii on the floor and sides of the walls to get an idea how
remarkable this place is. We rode horses to the gorge entrance. My
Bedouin horse walker used the 15 minutes to give me the sales
pitch/pick up lines of the century. He carefully described how we
were going to run away together to see the dancing horses of Syria,
the Wadi Rum, sleep in his family's tent and his sister would cook a
chicken on the fire! As our guide said, "He's an experienced tourist
worker". I agree with that assessment. We entered the gorge on foot
and were transported to a different world. There are traces of the
Roman and Nabadean gutters and rain runoff channels. It's an easy 1
mile walk to the first spectacular sight, The Treasury. All of the
Nabadean graves and buildings are carved right into the walls of the
rocks. The walls are nearly vertical, and the Treasury must be at
least 40 feet high. There's no vegetation to speak of, so we were
contemplating how they brought in the scaffolding to complete the
carving. The technique was to cover the area with sand and start
carving at the top of the building. As they worked their way down,
the sand was removed and the carving continued. There's much
evidence of shifting ground levels over the 1700 years of history in
this canyon. We turned the corner to see even more crypt entrances
at all kinds of levels. As we went deeper into the wider areas of
the canyon, the sun lit up the intense colors of the rock. It looks
like a flow piece of granite on steroids. Rich burgundies, red clay
colors, bright white, gray, stunning yellow .. all flowing like
rivers throughout the entire canyon. I've not seen a geological
formation like that anywhere else. At that point, Ruby introduced us
to a young Army officer, Zed, who asked to join us for our tour. His
duties include English translation, and asked if he could practice
speaking English. Marc A drew this assignment. Zed stayed with us
for about one and a half hours, keeping Marc A entertained. We
trekked up the steps to see even more spectacular rock coloration.
At that point, it was time for a comfort break. The owner of the
tour agency, Guiding Star, called to make sure we were happy and to
wish us and our families a happy Easter. We toured yet another
church with drop-dead amazing mosaic floors, and it was time for
lunch. We invited Zed to join us but he declined. Off we went for a
great lamb stew and a sparkling clean bathroom. Somehow we talked
ourselves into trying the trek to the Monastery (about a 2 hour
round-trip that involves nothing but steps) through a back canyon.
Ruby said she'd wait at the lunch stop as she couldn't do the climb.
I decided to go round trip on a donkey as my knees were already
barking from the number of stairs I’d climbed prior to lunch.
Surprisingly, Marc A said he'd come along, too. We mounted our
steeds and our donkey minders got us started out. We were no more
than 100 meters from the donkey corral when Marc A's donkey did a
full face plant. This was an ominous forewarning of the ride to
come. Cuckoo (my donkey) and I were off in the care of our Bedouin
donkey handler. The donkeys just head up the stairs and don't stop.
If you are in their way, they butt right into you. On the way up,
you must ride as close to the donkey's front legs as possible. I
spend the whole ride digging my thighs in to Cuckoo’s neck and
apologizing for squishing fellow pilgrims up against the canyon
walls. The stairs have eroded in certain places, so it's slippery to
get up. Cuckoo stumbled, and I got quite a jolt up my back. I
shuddered when my guide announced we'd hit the halfway point. Up we
went on narrower staircases and passed more Bedouin boutiques. Each
boutique was staffed with an abundance of ladies yelling out we
needed to give our guides big tips. Pictures were impossible whilst
riding the donkey. We finally reached the plateau below the
monastery. The guides were insistent we be back in 5 minutes after
pictures. Once again, cultural misunderstandings arose. We looked up
at the monastery, which had the thinnest, steepest steps. I wasn't
going to try it. I headed back, and the Bedouin women were outraged.
"We take you up to the monastery on the donkey!" Look, Cuckoo just
spent 1/2 an hour heaving me up that far. Give the donkey a rest!
There was no way I was going up further on a donkey. Marc A was not
getting on the donkey again. I waited a bit then slid back up on
Cuckoo. If possible, the ride down was even more jolting than the
ride up. In this case, you had to lock your elbows and ride as far
back on the donkey as possible, using your arms to keep you in
position. We got to the spot where the stairs are eroded. At this
point, my handler cheerfully tells me the donkey's leg was injured
on the ride up. Why I am riding on the injured donkey? Well, Marc
A's handler was busy seeking another rider for the way down. Oy! The
story about the donkey's injury grew with the passage of time. The
calls for big tips for my guide were also growing with passage of
time. Since none of this seemed to be working, another Bedouin
donkey rider came up and started insisting I could not be older than
25. And .. would I like to visit their family? Their sister would
cook a lamb on the fire. What a hoot! I finally arrived back down at
the lunch stop. The back canyon was so much more dramatic and
spectacular than the area with the tombs. I was very glad I did it,
but much wiser about the physicality needed to even ride a donkey up
into the hills. Marc A had a fun time heading up to the monastery on
foot, buying a few necklaces (the Bedouin happy hour: buy one, get
one free) and trekking back to the canyon. We headed to the entrance
around 5 pm. All the Bedouin horsemen were bringing the animals back
up from the canyon. It was the Petra Preakness: lots of thundering
hooves, horses rearing up, dust flying everywhere and general chaos.
We had thought to wear our "Bucking Horse Sales" t-shirts from Miles
City, Montana that day. How fitting! Marc A then bought a Jordanian
rug up at the entrance to the park. As he cleared hotel security,
the guard gasped. "My mother makes these rugs! Thank you, sir! I
will tell her you are taking this home with you as a memory of
Jordan!" You are never far from someone you know in Jordan. It is a
small, close-knit country. It's also like Egypt .. folks stay up
late into the night and take the siesta during the day. We headed
for drinks, hamburgers in the bar and then to bed. Two hours later,
the phone rings. "Madame, your young man wishes to bid you good-bye.
Will you come downstairs?" I am thinking, which of the many young
men from today is he talking about? and did the donkey or horse come
along? Am I hallucinating? I hand the phone to Marc A. It turns out
it's Zed, our English student from the morning. We haul ourselves
out of bed. There he is, dressed to the nines, and asking us to
please visit his family when we return for CAMEL. We enjoy a cup of
coffee with him and learn he's a BASKETBALL fan. We are totally won
over. We toast the Gators and the Lady Volunteers, and then head
back to bed. Today starts the long trek home. Pick up at 10, 2 hour
drive to Wadi Rum, 2 hour 4X4 jeep tour of the dunes, tea with
Bedouins, drive to Amman airport, head for home. If this tour goes
the same way the one to Egypt did, the Wadi Rum will be the
highlight of our visit. Cheers, Cleo |
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