More of our Garagos Pottery videos have appeared on another website - must be all the tagging I've been doing!

http://explow.com/garagos_pottery

We're delighted to see our video's from Youtube about the Garagos Pottery being posted on other websites.

http://www.firstpost.com/topic/place/egypt-garagos-pottery-egypt-video-qaTvxpv4T9w-21-3.html

We go home today. I wish there was a flight that left first thing in the morning as I can't stand hanging around – the anticipation of the inevitable. I don't dislike going home – I really look forward to seeing my family again. Nonetheless it is always a little sad leaving Luxor – even more so for Peter.

We go down and have breakfast. We say goodbye to the staff who we have both come to know well through our many visits. We go back to the room to finish the last bit of packing. It's hot today so I stay in the room under the air conditioning, taking in the last views from the balcony. Peter goes to say goodbye to friends in the hotel.

At lunchtime Peter's father comes to the hotel to say goodbye. He has travelled from Garagos to see us off. We go out of the hotel to a coffee shop. In the few minutes it takes us to walk to the coffee shop I very quickly lose the benefit of sitting in air conditioning all morning – the heat is exhausting. Whilst in the coffee shop we notice a Monarch rep having coffee. Although we haven't met him or been to the welcome meetings, we know that when he gets up to leave, we should also think about heading off to the airport.

The time has come. It is difficult saying goodbye to Peter's father. Tony has sent a car for us so we say our goodbyes to Alfons and walk back to the hotel to have our luggage put into the car. On the way to the airport we stop off at the Menf Travel office to pick up Tony who will escort us to the airport. The manager and a couple of the other staff are in the office so we go in and take tea with them. Mr Mourad offers us his Mercedes to travel to the airport in but we explain that Tony has already taken care of the travel arrangements.

More goodbyes follow and we are now on our way to the airport. When we arrive there are a few large queues but I am asked to take a seat whilst Tony and Peter take care of the checking in – I must admit I am a little nervous about the weight of the luggage after our first experience of flying with Monarch. Peter comes over with a man that I haven't seen before. He is introduced to me as the manager of Monarch – though not quite sure what that means in real terms. He is quite clearly someone in authority by the was he is greeted by staff. Peter and this man go over to Tony who has taken our luggage to an unmanned check in desk, however a member of staff give Tony our boarding cards and our cases are put onto the belt without being weighed! It's not what you know ….................. It just goes to show that when it comes to luggage allowance at Manchester Airport – No Negotiation. In Luxor Airport – everything is negotiable!

This has been a great trip. Whilst I wait for Peter I take some time to reflect.

The trip to Cairo stands out in my mind as one of the highlights. As soon as you leave the airport and make your way into down-town Cairo the disparity between wealth and poverty is only too apparent. The skyline as you drive across the freeway is impressive - typically Islamic with mosques and minarets protruding from all directions but with the occasional church cross breaking the pattern. The old palaces despite the layers of dust and pollution damage still remain regal with their grand balconies and arabesque shutters. I'm always reminded of the Cairo Trilogy books by Naguib Mahfouz when I see these old houses.

The day in Khan el Khalili was a real adventure. We met some very interesting characters and got to see some things we haven't seen before – the view from the roof of the merchants house was stunning with the silhouette of the Citadel sitting on the skyline.

I also remember Peter took a phone call from Kamal from the Mameluk Glass Factory in Cairo. He told Peter that we must be a lucky charm for them as since our visit, a local TV station has been down to film the factory – hopefully an opportunity to raise the profile of the factory and the craft. We wish them all the best.

In the Khan el Khalili we got the opportunity to see the close collaborative work between craftsmen and the social network on which they all rely. This can be observed in almost any setting in Egypt as everyone is reliant on a social circle or network of some description or another whether it be the family or the people in the community or in a work/business setting (legitimate or not). Thinking back to the fiasco at the Sheraton Hotel in Cairo it is also shows how when one piece of the network is missing, the system can collapse. Regardless, whatever you want you can get here – usually for a price but there is usually someone in the network who can help.

Back to Luxor, always etched in my memory is the view across the River Nile especially from the balcony of the Sonesta. Such a contrast to Cairo. I remember watching the galabeya'd women working in the fields on the Westbank. The gentle drone of the motorboats working the river is occasionally superseded by the low engine sound of a passing cruise boat. As the cruise boat passes the water is churned up from the rear. Small fishing boats take advantage of this and paddle themselves into the wake and cast their nets. It's so peaceful here.

Thinking back to our visits to the various crafts producers a common theme was identified - that the younger generations are leaving the craft to seek employment elsewhere.  In some cases they had been given the opportunity to have a good university education and have aspirations beyond working with their hands.  Others have gone to work in one of the Red Sea resorts which post revolution, still has a bouyant tourism industry - not like Luxor.  Nobody seems to know what will happen once the older generation are no longer around - but nor do they seem to be applying much thought to this issue either.  Maybe it's a case of parents being in denial about the inevitable or a belief that it's in Gods hands.

Everyone is perturbed by the unrest.  There are increased incidents of violence and particularly attacks on tourists.   When I first came to Egypt it felt like one of the safest places in the world.  We have seen ordinary people carrying guns in the street apparently 'to protect themselves and their property.'  It seems to be generally felt that the lack of police presence has given the red flag to some sections of society to behave badly - possibly a result of years of oppression, lack of opportunity and having the apparent 'wealth' of tourists flaunted in their faces. 

On a more positive note my fondest memory is of Garagos and the family that have welcomed me into their home. In this community the doors to the family homes are always open and you will always be welcomed with open arms, a friendly smile and plenty of food to eat and tea to drink.

I've been fascinated by Garagos and the stories that I've been privileged enough to have been told. This has been the inspiration for our first project where we hope to recount the history behind the Garagos Pottery and the people that have been involved in it's establishment.

Now home to do some research.

No matter how exhausted I am, I'm always compelled to get up each morning and pull back the curtains and take in the view from the balcony, breathe in the smells and feel the warmth of the sun on my skin. Even more so today as we will return home tomorrow. If I breathe in deep enough I'm sure I can absorb the essence of this place and maybe take a little home with me forever.  

Back to practicalities. We need to get organised with our packing this morning as we will need to ensure our luggage isn't overweight again – not like on the way out when we were charged £120 for excess weight. But first things first – breakfast. We head down to the restaurant and are greeted by Eptisam who shows us to a table. I'm almost on auto pilot when I come down for breakfast now – first a glass of kirkady and some Earl Grey tea. Over to the counter for melon and pomegranate. After the first course I go to the chef and ask him for a vegetable omelette and I then add some veal sausages, tamaya, grilled tomatoes and tahina. Still a little room for something sweet so I opt for pancakes with chocolate syrup – and why not when I'm holiday! Peter and I decide to have a lazy day – one rare day by the pool, but first things first – a start on the packing.

We head back to the room and start sorting out the luggage. I decide to leave most of my toiletries in Luxor for our next trip. I lay the things that I'm leaving out on the bed and photograph them. Once I'm home I can check the photos as a reminder of the things I have here already. We have quite a lot of pottery and this all goes in hand luggage. I also decide to leave my camera tripod here as I only use this one for travel anyway.

An hour or so later and we're almost done – we've left changes of clothing out for this evening and tomorrow. Now down to the pool. And that's us until tea time!

We have a relaxing time swimming and lounging – we haven't done much of this in the two weeks we have been here, but I wouldn't change it for anything. We've had a great trip and Peter has been brilliant. I know I wouldn't have seen half the things or met half the people I have without him. Sitting by the pool is great – but not all day everyday!

This evening we are going to have apple pie and tea at the Oasis Cafe with Michael and Hamada. After we have showered and changed Hamada calls to say that he is outside the hotel waiting for us. He can't wait in the car too long as the hotel security are inclined to get a little itchy (even though he works there). Once in the car we drive to Sawagi to pick up Michael. As we head towards the train track, Hamada slows down. The barrier is open but he checks for oncoming trains. As we start crossing the track we see a train coming in the distance. Peter and Hamada make loud exclamations in Arabic – sheer disbelief that the barriers are open. Hamada shouts to the man responsible for operating the barrier. This is met with a look of complete disinterest. Oh well says Hamada, Egypt has 84 million people, what does it matter if there's a few less!

We arrive at the flat but Michael isn't ready (clearly working on Egyptian time) so we go up and wait. I go out to the balcony and watch life in the street below. Patience is a great virtue when in Egypt. After a bit of faffing around, Michael is ready and we go down to Hamada's car and head off to the Oasis Cafe.

I'm so delighted to come to this cafe. Firstly because it really does the best apple pie in Luxor and secondly, because of the fantastic building it is situated in. I can only describe it is an old palazzo style building. I've tried Googling it but can only find reference to it being a 1930's house that used to belong to the wealthy.

Frequent visitors to Luxor will know how much the town has changed over the last 5 years as part of a plan to turn Luxor in to an 'Open air museum'. Now deposed Governor of Luxor Samir Farag was at the forefront of enforcing these changes which meant demolishing properties to widen the streets and also moving poor families out to developments located on the edge of the desert.

http://www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,2026394,00.html

http://www.egyptindependent.com/node/4075

http://blogcritics.org/politics/article/luxor-lately/

Part of the plan was to demolish a number of buildings on Sharia Dr Labib Habashi – one of these buildings being the one that houses the Oasis Cafe. The Egyptian uprising has brought about many changes in Luxor - one being the removal of Samir Farag as Governor of Luxor. Reports are that he was implicated in several cases of corruption under the old Mubarak regime.

The upshot of this is that the planned demolition of the buildings on Sharia Dr Labib Habashi has come to a halt and for now – the buildings on this street are still here. We admire the high, corniced ceilings and the charming décor.

The cafe is empty, so different to when I first used to come here. We enjoy our apple pie and tea. We don't stay too long as Peter has arranged to meet the Manager of the Sonesta. Hamada drives us back and once in reception we are invited into Mr Sabri's office. We thank him for our stay and then talk generally about the difficult times everyone is facing in Luxor due to the reduction in tourism.

Time for bed. We will have time to finish packing tomorrow.

We sleep in late again today. My body clock is just beginning to adapt to the late nights and late starts – usually I’m an early person. We plan to return to Luxor later. Peter has arranged for Hamada to come and pick us up. It’s always difficult saying goodbye. We had hoped to visit Hagaza a nearby village that is famous for its beautiful wooden hand-crafts. We will leave this until our next trip.

Tahani has prepared breakfast for us. As we break into our freshly boiled eggs Tahani begins to talk to Peter about her concerns for Michael. I don’t want to talk about this family issue but Michael and their hopes for him getting married is always a topic of discussion for his mother or his father with Peter.

Ehab, Margreet and the twins arrive. I know Margreet loves having Ehab at home but I guess she feels that as soon as Ehab has arrived back in the village it very quickly time for him to return to work in Safaga.

Peter’s father comes back from the farm with a bunch of freshly pick Molokhia (Jews Mallow). Again this is something that I also find an acquired taste but here’s recipe in case you’re interested:

Peter’s father now continues the conversation about Michael – poor Michael – his ears must be burning! It’s an age old situation – parents with concerns over their children – whatever their age.

Sara and Susanna entertain us with some belly dancing. I video them and then download the video’s onto the netbook for them to watch – a game that could go on forever!

Sometime after midday day we get a call from Hamada that he is in Garagos but has got lost somewhere. Several phone calls later, Peter goes out to find where he is. The village is like a maze and it is easy to get disoriented. Mr Riad comes to say goodbye to us and sits and waits with us until Peter returns with Hamada.

As is the custom, Hamada is invited into the home to drink tea. As he enters Peter’s father greets him with “Alf Salam”. Hamada declines tea but accepts a glass of water.

Shortly after our bags are carried to the car and we say goodbye to Tahani and Alfons, Mr Riad, Ehab, Margreet and the twins. Other family members are in the street waiting to wave us off. We have to reverse back down the narrow street - just before Hamada arrived, a local man with a donkey and cart selling vegetables stops near the house to sell his wares. This street is only wide enough for one car so it requires some navigation and co-ordination to reverse without scraping against the wall of a building.

We wave goodbye and I can understand how difficult this is for Peter’s mother and father. They miss him terribly and I know they want him to stay in the village instead of returning to Luxor.

We drive out of the village and back along the canal that feeds water to the land. We see boys jumping from a bridge into the canal and I begin to think of the swimming pool that waits for us back at the hotel. As we draw nearer to Luxor Peter tells me that Hamada is going to take us straight to an alabaster factory on the Westbank – oh well – when in Egypt – just go with the flow!

We drive into Luxor and then back out on the Movenpick Road towards Awamia. Eventually we get to the bridge that takes us over the Nile onto the Westbank – much quieter and more agricultural than the East bank – but also full of amazing wonders.

http://www.touregypt.net/featurestories/westbank.htm

We drive until we come across the amazing sight of the Colossi of Memnon. Unfortunately the photo I take is from a speeding car so not my best phot of the Colossi - well actually I only manage to get one of them from the back!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Colossi_of_Memnon

I remember being so in awe of this amazing the sight the first time I came to Egypt. The Colossi were built to guard the mortuary site of Amenhotep. Since I came past here last, more archaeological finds have been discovered by the Colossi. Bit by bit Egypt reveals more of its hidden secrets.

We drive past small pottery workshops. We arrive at the alabaster factory. Unfortunately we also arrive at the same time as a coach load of Russian tourists! Fortunately we aren’t herded in with the Russians – a man from the factory greets us and takes us over to three men who are sitting on the floor demonstrating various different stages of the process. This is all very well-rehearsed – like a sketch from a show – but more of this was in stores once inside!

We walk into a large showroom displaying a massive selection of pots, jars, tea sets, chess sets and of course pharaonic statues of all sizes. We had managed to get ahead of the Russians but now they stream into the room escorted by a number of the factory’s staff. They are welcomed to the showroom. I wasn’t paying much attention but a minute into the welcome speech the lights go off. I think my first instinct must have been that a power cut had happened as is quite usual, but then a chorus of Happy Birthday rises from the depths of darkness. As I turn around I notice that a section of the display is glowing a flourescent green – jars, vases and pharaonic figures all glowing in the dark. The Russians cheer and the lights are switched on again. The work 'Pantomime' springs to mind!

Peter, Hamada and I browse the shelves, I'm constantly shadowed by the man that welcomed us at the entrance. Alabaster is a beautiful stone and is shown at it's most beautiful when lit from within. The jars, pots and candle holders are stunning – pharaonic statuettes less so. Peter and Hamada speak to the gentleman that met us at the entrance. They talk about prices and shipping – I leave them to it.

 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alabaster

The alabaster products are a reasonable priced but Hamada tells us later that guides will get 50% of any sales. During this brief visit I am given two alabaster ankh's and an alabaster scarab beetle - little tempters to encourage me to buy - but I think of the pottery we already have to carry home.  We leave the factory and the Russian tourists behind to return back to the East Bank. It's late afternoon and the light casts a warm glow over the Theban Mountains. We drive past Qurna, the deserted village resting on top of the ancient necropolis.

Quote from Wikipedia:

"Kurna (also Gourna, Gurna, Qurna, Qurnah or Qurneh) are various spelling for a group of three closely related villages (New Qurna, Qurna and Sheikh ‘Adb el-Qurna) located on the West Bank of the River Nile opposite the modern city of Luxor in Egypt near the Theban Hills.

New Qurna was designed and built in the late 1940s and early 1950s by Egyptian architect Hassan Fathy to house people living in Qurna which is now uninhabited. New Qurna was added to the 2010 World Monuments Watch List of Most Endangered Sites to bring attention to the site's importance to modern town planning and vernacular architecture due to the loss of much of the original form of the village since it was built.

The Villages

New Qurna (or New Gourna)

New Qurna was built between 1946 and 1952 by Egyptian architect Hassan Fathy midway between the Colossi of Memnon and el-Gezira on the Nile on the main road to the Theban Necropolis to house the residents of the Qurna. The design, which combined traditional materials and techniques with modern principles was never completed and much of the fabric of the village has since been lost; all what remains today of the original New Qurna is the mosque, market and a few houses. UNESCO World Heritage conservation wishes to safeguard this important architectural site. The World Monuments Fund included New Qurna in the 2010 World Monuments Watch List of Most Endangered Sites.

Qurna (or Old Gourna)

Qurna is an abandoned village about 100m to the east of the Temple of Seti I. Until the early 19th century the community included at least parts of the Temple of Seti I. Several travellers, including Richard Pococke or Sonnini de Manoncourt even name a Sheikh of Qurna. Edward William Lane relates in 1825 that the village was abandoned and not a single inhabitant lived there. Comments by Isabella Frances Romer suggests that the resettling started in the late 1840s. New Qurna was built in the 1940s and early 1950 to house the then residents who strongly resisted the move.

Sheikh ‘Adb el-Qurna

A series of housing built in and around the mountain grottoes located about 200m north of the Ramesseum at Sheikh ‘Adb el-Qurna. The stretch of land has been the bitter battlefield between the original owners and the Egyptian government for the last 60 years, because it lay on top of an archeologically area, part of the Tombs of the Nobles. Edward William Lane relates that the residents moved into these grottoes from the village of Qurna, which they abandoned, when the Mamluks retreated thought the area, following their defeat by Muhammad Alī's forces in the early 19th century.”

 http://www.qurna.org/index.html

 http://weekly.ahram.org.eg/2008/883/feature.htm

 http://www.artofcounting.com/2010/06/28/are-the-living-pesky-the-destruction-of-qurna-and-archaeological-hypermetropia/

You will see the mention of the architect Hassan Fathy. You will read more about the links to Hassan Fathy and the Garagos Pottery on the 1001 Nights page in Posterous as our research and compilation of the story develops.

We drive past the sugar can fields and several banana plantations. We see the green footed lesser egrets paddle in the irrigation channels running through the green land. Again that familiar smell of smoke seeps in through the car window. I don't know why the burning of sugar cane stubble is so wonderful – well yes I do ­ it's one of the most evocative smells of Luxor.

We cross the sugar can train track and are now close to the edge of the West Bank of the Nile. We pass what were once brighty coloured houses and shops, now scarred with the patina of age and the desert dust. They line both sides of the street like a guard of honour, escorting us visitors away from this very special place.

Before long we are back at the hotel and now wash the Garagos dust from our hair (literally and figuratively). We are in time to watch the sunset over the Theban Hills from the balcony – I will never tire of this beautiful site.

We decide to eat in the hotel in Aladdins Restaurant outside in the hotel grounds. It's a nice warm evening we don't have to walk too far considering our near exhausted state. Unusually, we see that a sound system has been set up. We haven't seen any evening entertainment here in the hotel on this trip due to the lack of tourists. However, there appears to be a group of 'day' tourists and they are dining at the hotel before returning to the Hurghada this evening. We are told by the waiter that they had planned to put on a belly dancing show for the tourists but the belly dancers haven't arrived and are late. This is such a shame – the tourists finish their meal and head out to their coach without seeing the 'entertainment'.

We get a phone call. Tony is waiting outside the hotel for us. He is going to take us to the tourism company office where he still works and where Peter used to work. We are also going to pick up our bits and pieces that 'went missing' in the Sheraton in Cairo. We drink tea in the office with Tony and Mr Mourad the manager of the travel company – the three of them talk about old times and also about how hard tourism has been hit since the uprising.

Peter and I have decided to do a caleche trip around the city. Peter's friend Radwan is waiting for us on the Corniche. We say goodbye to Tony and Mr Mourad and walk out to meet Radwan. It's a delight to see him again – Peter has know him for a long time – the travel company always uses good, reputable caleche drivers who speak English. Radwan is a very polite young man, university educated and now tells us that since he saw us last he is now married and expecting their first baby. Congratulations are shouted in English and Arabic. Radwan is also a qualified guide. He tells us (as we've heard from everyone so far) how bad business is in Luxor and even though his wife is about to have a baby, he will be taking work in Hurghada so that he can support his family. Radwan says that it's difficult to get a handle on the real situation in Egypt. Information differs significantly depending on it's source – state tv, the internet, the grapevine. He says it's the information that people don't know that is most dangerous. Peter and Radwan continue to talk about the state of the country – I take in the familiar sights of Luxor by night.

I spot a couple of significant sights – we go past one of our favourite coffee shops Alfa Leyla we Leyla (One Thousand Nights and One Night) and then as we pass the Franciscan Church, the sign on the front of the church seems to say 1001. I like to think they are lucky signs for our little project!

Radwan drops us back at the Sonesta. We say goodbye and wish him all the best for the birth of his new baby. Before we go to bed we sit on the balcony and drink a glass of wine. Birds swoop across the Nile and over on the West Bank we hear a donkey bray and the soft chugging sound of a motor boat.

Peter and I talk about our visit to Garagos. It's only when away from the village that we appreciate how different the way of life is - not to the UK but to Luxor. The difference is also apparent between Luxor and Cairo – Egypt is indeed a country of many faces (and differing mentalities). Our visit is nearly at an end and there is a sense of sadness about leaving – for Peter his family and birth place and for me a country I have grown to love. Exhaustion takes over us.  I hope tomorrow is a lazy day.

We wake up at about 10.00am today.  I slept a little better last night with the improved ventilation through the balcony shutters.  I must have been too exhausted to hear the misguided cockerels.  I remember hearing the call to prayer at 4.30am but must have fallen back to sleep shortly after.

We get up and go downstairs where Peter’s mother is already cooking.  Peter’s father has taken the water buffalo’s back out to the field.

We eat breakfast.  On the table is boiled eggs collected from the chickens that morning (unboiled at the time!).  Large chunks of bread, roasted spring onions, cheese, fuul, date jam and mish – a homemade cheese made from the milk of the water buffalo. http://articles.latimes.com/1999/jul/14/food/fo-55996

Although I’ve never been brave enough to try mish – probably because it is stored in a clay jar and kept on the roof of the house in the sun for a number of months – everyone in the family love it.  Also on the table is tameya, tahini and Peter’s father also brings in some freshly picked rocket.  Peter’s mother heats a pan of buffalo milk and places it on the table.  I’ve always disliked the smell of boiled milk.  It takes me back to my childhood somewhere but can’t quite pinpoint the circumstances.

After breakfast Ehab, Margreet and the twins come around.  This morning we are going to the pottery.

Ehab, Peter and I set off for the pottery which is a short walk away.  As soon as we are out on the street children spot us (or me) and start following us – some on foot and others on their bicycles.  Peter suggests that I don’t respond to any of them if they speak to me as it could get out of hand.  Although it feels odd ignoring children who only seem to want to say hello in English, I trust Peter’s judgement and do as he suggests.

We walk past a field that has dates laid out in large squares.  They must be at different stages of the drying process as each square is a different shade of red/brown. 

It isn’t long before we reach the pottery – a small complex built within the confines of a high mud brick wall and consisting of a number of separate buildings.  Behind the pottery buildings is the shell of a large unfinished building – probably five or six stories high.  I remember Peter telling me that before 1997 when tourists were stilling coming to the pottery, the Catholic church funded the building of a hotel.  The hope at the time was that a hotel would be developed where tourists could come and stay, spend more time at the pottery and in the village and ultimately develop the small tourism economy in Garagos.  The building has never been completed.  Everything came to a standstill after the Hatchepsut shootings and travel to more remote areas like Garagos became difficult for tourists.  The ground floor of the hotel is used as a nursery but apart from that remains empty and unfinished. 

I shall write separately the story of the Garagos Pottery and try to do it more justice than I have in this blog.  However, an interesting thing to note is that the pottery was designed by famous architect Hassan Fathy known as Architect for the Poor.  http://www.hassanfathy.webs.com/ .

We enter the first building that, amongst other pieces of equipment, houses two potters wheels each located in front of a window that provides good light in which to work.  Ehab’s father Mr Riad arrives and I also recognise Amjad and Louis from my previous visits.  I’m introduced to Mr Abd al Masir who is working on one of the wheels.  We watch him as he ‘throws’ a lovely curved pot. Once sliced off the wheel with a wire he places it on the side of the bench.  Ehab takes some clay and begins to throw it on a bench, mashing it down with his hands to soften it.  I’m then invited to take Mr Abd al Masir’s place at the wheel. 

The seat is wooden and slopes at an angle downwards.  As I try to put my feet on the kick plate I feel myself sliding down the seat.  I find it difficult to balance myself on the seat without sliding down.  I could do with some platform shoes or legs that are at least three inches longer.  Once I start pushing the kick plate back and forth I find that holding on to the seat with one hand helps keep me stable.  Anyway, a lump of clay is chucked onto the wheel by Ehab and I doubt I can attempt this with one hand.  I shuffle myself onto the seat again and start working the kick plate back and forth – I’m not sure what the optimum speed is for this.  I ask Ehab to start me off with the clay and after shaping and working the pot up a few inches he hands over to me.

I dip my hands in a pot of water and attempt to shape the clay into something that resembles some kind of receptacle.  Ehab does have to rescue it a couple of times but I must admit – I do much better this time than the last.  I place my pot next to Mr Abd al Masir’s and we all laugh at the comparison! 

 We spend a bit of time here watching everyone complete different parts of the process.  A small machines squeezes out long thin sausages of clay which are cut into fixed lengths.  These form the handles for cups.  The machine looks like a grown up version of something from the Playdough factory – clay goes in one end and as the lever is pressed a long thin tube of clay comes out of the other.  Matta attaches the handles to cups with slip that have already been left to dry.  We are joined by a cousin of Peter's, Yousef and his little boy – another member of the family.  His late father, along with Ehab’s father Riad and three others co-own the pottery.  Yousef also used to work in the pottery but similarly to the others of his generation now works in tourism on one of the Nile cruises.  Yousef seats himself at one of the pottery wheels and begins to produce a very intricate pot that curves in and out along its length.  His son sits on the windowsill in front of him watching – so comfortable where he is that he’s clearly sat and watched his father many times before.

I ask Mr Riad if he thinks there will be another generation of family to take over the pottery.  He is unsure.  All of the sons of the current owners, although trained in the pottery since childhood, work in the tourism industry – out of economic need rather than choice.  Mr Riad says that to work in a craft such as pottery, you really need to love the work.   I ask Ehab at what age he started learning to make the pottery.  He says he was about 8 or 9 years of age.  They used to come after school and during the holidays.  It never felt like work to them but almost like an art class.  One of the first things the children are taught to make is a palm tree.  He then takes a framed black and white photograph down from the wall.  The photograph is of Ehab, his brother Andre, a couple of other children and Yousef’s father Sabit teaching the children to make the palm trees.  Ehab takes the opportunity to show us how to make a clay palm tree! 

We go next to another outbuilding.  I remember that this is where the finishing is done – Louis hand paints the pottery in the traditional designs of the Garagos pottery in blue/grey, green, turquoise, browns and yellows.  This room also serves as a display room.  The walls house shelving and cupboards stacked with examples of the wonderful pottery from floor to ceiling.  Cooking pots such as Egyptian style tagines, baking dishes, tea sets and Arabic style coffee pots. There are a collection of figures representing local life – groups of musicians playing traditional instruments, figures standing by waterwheels and women carrying waterpots on their head.  There is a collection of nativity scenes, large fish shaped platters – some glazed and some not and a massive variety of different shaped vases and jars.  As always there is also a large box of Ankh’s glazed in dark blue or turquoise and another of Coptic crosses.  I have hundreds of photographs of the pottery - please look at my Flickr page to see more.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/1001-nights/sets/

Matta asks us if we would like a cup of tea.  Of course we accept.  Ehab, his father, Peter and I take a seat and Mr Riad starts to tells us some of the stories of the pottery.  Again I will leave a lot of the detail out at this stage and save it for the story of the pottery.  But Mr Riad tells us about Father Montgolfier, a French Jesuit priest who came to Garagos in the 1950’s.  He had been working in village to help the locals attain better lifestyles by helping  to improve skills, health and the physical environment.  There was also Father Ackerman who had a nephew in France who owned a pottery.  It was this connection that brought pottery to the village of Garagos.  Mr Riad tells us that at the time the village had a lot of scorpions and they were a big problem.  If anyone got bitten by a scorpion their life chances could be slim as the village was so far away from a doctor or a hospital the poison may have killed them before they received medical attention.  Father Montgolfier used to pay the local people for collecting the scorpions which were later disposed of – only a few piasters each but this helped to significantly reduce the amount of scorpions and ultimately the health risks to local people.

There were no roads in the village at this time – just mud tracks.  Father Montgolfier owned a car – the only one in the village and everyone was amazed to see this vehicle enter the village for the very first time.  Father Montgolfier oversaw the building of an asphalt road leading to the pottery.  For decades this road was known as Montgolfier Road.  There was no street lighting but local men would walk ahead of the car holding lanterns to light the way.  The road that we walked down past the drying dates was this very road.  One thing you notice is that the roads and the rest of the village is elevated some five feet above the green land.

I ask Peter why the roads are so much higher than the land.  He tells me that when the roads were built, the soil was taken from the agricultural land and banked up onto the roads before they were asphalted.

I’m going to save the rest of this story for another time. 

We all walk to another building – the store room.  As we approach this building we walk past the kiln which is still cooling down from the last batch of firing. 

The store room is just floor to ceiling shelves stacked full of pottery – some glazed and some unglazed.  Ehab tells me that they leave some unglazed for two reasons.  Some customers want to specify their own design and others just prefer the terracotta look.  We spend ages routing through the shelves and photographing the products.  Ehab reaches up onto high shelves and brings down pots and jars so that we can see them¸ feel them and admire the beautiful colours.  I love the shape of the old style Arabic coffee pots. 

Thinking about our luggage allowance and how we got stung on the way into Egypt, we carefully select some products to take back with us.  Ehab goes to fetch  a pair of balance scales with kilo weights to help us determine how much we can take.  Peter and I have already decided to leave clothes and toiletries here to accommodate any samples that we want to bring home.  It’s very difficult deciding what to take and chop and change our minds several times – so much to choose from!  We settle on a number of ceramic Ankhs and Coptic crosses and also some nativity scenes which have a charming hand-made appeal.  We have got about seven kilos of pottery in total.  Mr Riad packs it tightly for us – that’s Peter’s hand luggage accounted for!  As Peter pays for the products Mr Riad tells us that this will cover the cost of the salaries for that week.

We actually spent most of the day in the pottery.  It’s nearly tea time and we go to leave.  As we walk out Amjad, Louis and Matta are preparing the kiln for the next batch of pottery to be fired.  Not everybody gets to see this part of the process Ehab explains, as they need to have enough pottery to fire to fill the kiln.  This is an electric kiln which is expensive to heat up so every spare inch of space is utilised.  Shelves of pottery are stacked on top of what look like ceramic egg cups or short candle sticks.  Once a shelf of pottery has been inserted, more ceramic legs are placed along the edges of the shelf and another shelf stacked on top.  We leave the guys to it and say our goodbyes.

As we leave the confines of the pottery we walk down Montgolfier Street and pass a row of men sitting with their backs against the mud brick wall.  They are drinking tea and smoking shisha.  I notice from the corner of my eye that one of the men has a rifle between his legs.  Although I’ve been told about the amount of guns being carried by citizens this is the first time I’ve seen a gun being openly displayed by someone who’s not from the authorities.

Peter tells me later that guns have always existed in the village but now the police are scarce people don’t care about carrying them in public.

We continue walking home, the children spot us again and one starts circling me on his bicycle.  Ehab tells the boy to go away.  We arrive home and Peter’s mother makes us a cup of tea.  Cousin David pops in and asks us if we are coming to see their new house.  We also need to go and see his Aunt Matilda and family so we go there first.  Ehab, Margreet and the twins walk with us until they take a right turn to go home and Peter and I continue another twenty yards to the house of Labib and his Aunt Matilda who is the sister of Peter’s father. 

This large house is surrounded by a painted wall to form a small courtyard.  Tall bushes of Rahan (basil) grow next to seating area – I still remember this fragrance from previous visits.  As we arrive we are greeted with handshakes and kisses.  I notice that there are two moustachioed young men sitting at a table facing the members of the family.  Everyone is sitting opposite on palm seast covered in brightly coloured rugs and cushions.  The two men are from a water filtration company and have come to give a demonstration of how their system works.  On the table are three glasses of water.  Two of the glasses have a brown slimy substance in them and in the other the water is crystal clear.  I don’t really need to understand the language too well to understand the demonstration.  The ‘audience’ is given the opportunity to ask questions – which they do and shortly after the two men pack up their sales materials, and after handing out their business cards say goodbye and leave.

Matilda brings out a large tray of tea for everyone.  There is Labib and his son Kissinger with his two young sons Mina and Shenouda.  Mina has grown a lot since I saw him last.  Labib’s other son Gerges who has just got engaged is with us.  There is also Shoaib and Ayad both younger siblings of Kissinger and Gerges and shortly after we are joined by sister Yvonne.  Peter’s cousins David and Madios are also here (sons of his Aunt Mariam – another sister of Peter’s father).  Michael is here too.  Although during my previous visits to Garagos I have been introduced to a lot of family members in a short space of time, I remember everyone easily, their bright happy faces always smiling.

As we drink tea and hold conversations on a variety of topics – the standard of hotels in Egypt, the benefits system in the UK and of course the subject of the Egyptian uprising takes centre stage.  Everyone is in agreement that the uprising has left the country in a terrible state.  Mubarak was a dictator but he kept stability in the country – and now he is gone everything is in chaos.  Labib tells us that today in Cairo, they are holding the protest to end all of the protests.  People are gathering in Tahrir Square which has now become the iconic location for the revolution.  He says that there has been trouble during the protests and that there was concern that this may spread to other parts of Egypt.  I detect a sense again, just the same as when visiting family in Cairo, that this is another family that feels unsafe, even within their own community.

Matilda says that she wants to cook for us and asks if we can stay to eat.  Unfortunately we have to decline but say that next time we hope to stay longer.  David and Madios had left earlier but we follow shortly in their tracks to go and see their new house which is currently being built next door to their existing house. 

Two minutes around the corner we arrive at the new house.  Wasfy, Mariams husband has been laying a new concrete floor in preparation for tiling.  We are shown around and shown the ceramic tiles.  Wasfy is a carpenter and has completed most of the work on the house himself.  David arrives and takes us to their existing flat next door.  Mariam greets us and invites us to sit.  It isn’t long before we are joined by Wasfy and sons Madios, Maximus and Bishoy.  Also there is Gerges and Michael.  They all speak in their thick, heavy sa’idi accents.  I know Peter speaks fast but the Arabic words are being shot out like rounds from an automatic weapon.  Peter told me some time ago that his Aunt Saffa used to call him a barbarian because of the way he spoke – particularly the speed.  They find themselves reminiscing over their childhood adventures.  Peter begins to recount a story about a particular fight he got into with some other local boys.  He describes how a gang of 50 boys were chasing him through the village and how he feared for his life.  His cousins roar with laughter and all shout something to each other then start slapping each other’s hands.  At this point I didn’t know what was being said but David who seems to have taken over from Peter as translator tells me that Peter is exaggerating and that there was only a handful of boys chasing him on this particular occasion!  Most of the young men in this group speak English and all have impeccable good manners.  Most are university graduates and all speak of the lack of employment opportunities for young Egyptians.  However, Peter’s family is more privileged than many others.  David teaches in the morning and then runs his own computer business outside of these hours.  Madios works for the  insurance company Alico and the only brother who isn’t present is Matero who is a tour guide and had left for Hurghada a few days earlier.

Mariam brings out plates of sunflower and pumpkins seeds and also a bowl of salted popcorn.  This is followed by glasses of a green fizzy apple flavoured drink.  Shortly after she brings out a sweet bread that tastes and has a similar texture to brioche.  A tray of tea is brought to everyone – Mariam (as with all other Egyptians) is surprised when I say I don’t take sugar  (and this isn’t the first time I’ve had tea at her house) – everyone else piles sugar into their glasses – even Peter who doesn’t have sugar in his tea at home.

We have another visit to make that evening – over to Mr Riad’s house to see Ehab, Margeet, the twins and the rest of the family.  We sit outside on the palm seats again and drink beer, chat, and feel the benefit of the fresh air circulating over the green land.  Lizards dart across the warm bricks at the front of the house and we are serenaded by a chorus of grasshoppers.  A donkey brays occasionally in accompaniment. 

I think we really benefited from an early(ish) night and wake up feeling refreshed.  After breakfast Peter bumps into an old friend of his Hamada, who he used to work with years ago.  Hamada works in one of the shops in the hotel.  I can see how they embrace that they are good friends and delighted to see each other.  We are invited to his shop to drink tea.  They reminisce about old times and talk about the terrible state of the country.  I become adept at putting the appropriate expression on my face depending on the tone of their voices.  With only basic knowledge of Arabic I could come a cropper if I don’t pay attention!  Another man enters the shop – yet another old friend of Peter’s.  They greet and then he tells Hamada that the ‘Big mother’ has phoned.  I ask who the big mother is.  I’m told that she is the mother of the owner of the hotel.  She phones every day to see who has turned up for work  - even though there is hardly any business.

We are to go to Garagos later that day.  Hamada offers to drive us.

We go back to the room and pack (yet again) – enough for a few days.  Hamada picks us up and we set off again through the rural landscape until we reach Garagos.  Being in a new air conditioned car people stop to look.  Everyone watches everything and they want to know who is entering their village.  Herds of scruffy goats scatter and children skid to a halt on their bikes.

We arrive at the house again – family from several houses come to greet us.  Peters father invites Hamada in to drink tea but he declines – he has to return to Luxor.

We settle in again.  It’s late afternoon and Peter, his father and I decide to walk down to the farmland before the sun sets.  The twins Sara and Susanna come with us.  We firstly call to see the waterbuffalo – a mother and her baby – well no longer a baby.  She was a baby when I saw her in December but is quite a size now.  The buffalo are kept in a mud brick walled area that is shaded by date palms.  On one corner of the space is an old fashioned water wheel that used to be driven by cows or buffalo.  Near the entrance  is a motor pump that draws water from underground – the source being the canals which are fed by the Nile. 

We then walk to another area surrounded by mud brick walls.  In here is a date palm, a banana tree and a mango tree.  Also growing is mint and basil – a slightly different basil to the type we have in the UK.  The Egyptian basil (rahan) grows into a bush – it’s more shrubby and the taste is different.  We did grow it in England from some seeds that Peter brought home but it didn’t survive the winter.

After this we follow the irrigation channel down to the farm land.  All the farmland in this area belongs to various members of Peter’s family and has belonged to them for as long as they can remember.  Through the generations the land is left to the children and some plots divided between them.  Not all of the land is together – it is spread out over the village.  Not all of the children want to remain in the village and work the land, so the responsibility is handed over to another member of the family.  I wonder how many of the younger generation will stay in the village in the future to work the land.  I know this is a passion for Peter’s father – he loves working on the land.  I don’t think this will be a passion for the next generation.

As we continue walking along the irrigation channel we come across Ebanob who is working the land.  He wields a large heavy hoe and strikes the earth with all his might.  Peter draws my attention to the hoe and before he speaks I think back to our garden and when Peter told me that we needed a strong tool to dig our heavy clay soil.  I knew the tool he was looking for so bought one from B&Q.  When I got it home and showed it to him he laughed.  Now looking at the size of the implement that Isaac is holding I can see why the B&Q hoe amused him. 

Zakir – the brother of Peter’s grandfather (but known as his grandfather not great uncle) is with a young boy Makarios who I remember from a previous visit.  They join us – everyone greets each other with a handshake.  Peter takes the hoe from Ebanob and begins to strike the earth.  He hasn’t laboured on the land since University so doesn’t keep it up for long. 

The sun is now setting.  A short distance away is a single story house that has just been built adjacent to the irrigated land.  The house has recently been built and belongs to Zakir’s son Stefanos and his wife Fikria.  So Stefanos is the cousin of Peter’s father.  We are invited to go to the house and drink tea. 

Mats made from woven date palms are laid out on the mud track that divides two plots of land, one growing sweetcorn and another green plant that is grown as animal feed.  More family members have joined us now – about 15 in total.  Everyone is seated on the mat.  Children play in the field, Sara and Susanna delight in tormenting a grey kitten.  When fed up of this they come and join the adults feeling equally comfortable with any of the uncles, aunts or cousins.  Whatever the differences are here between the roles of women and men, it doesn’t apply to playing with the children.  In fact when the men aren’t at work they are more likely to be making a fuss of the children.  Fikria brings out a tray of tea for everyone.  Sugar is generously spooned into the glasses – expressions of surprise when I don’t take any.  Everyone chats until the sky turns black – a deep dark black that is only seen in remote locations not polluted by artificial light.  It would be an unusual day if the night sky was clouded – the stars are bright and the crickets in the field are the loudest I’ve ever heard.  At one point a cricket flies out of the field onto my shoulder – I jump and scream which everyone finds hysterical.  I feel a bit of a fool but take some comfort when one of the other women sitting with Fikria also makes a fuss about the flying insects.

It’s so much cooler out in the fields.  The dry crinkled leaves on the sweetcorn rustle in the light breeze.  Apart from the crickets and the chatter of voices it’s silent.  It’s almost as though the fields absorb the sound of any external noises or a vacuum has surrounded us.  I defy anyone to sit where I’m sitting now and not feel a sense of peace – around them and inside.

Ehab now joins us – Sara and Susanna run to him.  I think the rest of the family are expecting us at his house.  We say thank you to our hosts and goodbye to family and head off back down the path, following again the irrigation channel and back out onto the street.  It’s only short walk around the corner to Ehabs house.  A lively scene greets us.  Everyone is sitting outside this large house that opens out onto yet another field – again it’s cooler out in the open that indoors.  Several of the men sit around a table playing dominoes.  Others and family members from neighbouring houses sit on one of four palm sofas chatting.  There is also a large stone mastaba covered in hand woven rugs.  We shake hands, embrace those we know, get kissed by female relatives I haven’t met before.  One of the ladies I haven’t met before is introduced to me as Sister Rita.  Sister Rita is a warm and engaging young lady.  Her English is excellent and she tells me that she is belongs to the Comboni Mission.     a Catholic mission named after Daniel Comboni who came to Egypt in 1857. 

Rita has recently been working in Kenya and Dubai and the following day was to leave for Ethiopia to continue her work.    I enjoy talking to Rita.  She asks me about our trip to Cairo and I tell her how the family tried to feed us so much food.  She laughs and says that there are two things that go hand in hand with Egyptians.  They love their food and they are very loud.

Ehab approaches us.  He says that he want to challenge Andre and Zakaria to a game of dominoes but he doesn’t know whether Peter is a reliable partner.  He says that Peter is out of practice at playing dominoes and he really wants to win the game.  I told Ehab that he couldn’t have any better partner than Peter and that he should put his faith in his brother in law – they will easily win.  Peter and Ehab join the rest of the men at the table and I continue chatting with Sister Rita.

Unfortunately she is called away to see to something and I expect that may be the last time I meet her.  I felt drawn to Rita and wanted to talk to her more and find out about the work that she does with the mission.  Hopefully another day.

Various members of the family come and go, some are new introductions, some people I already know.  Andre’s wife Marmar and her daughter Lola sit next to me on one side and Margreet sits on the other with Sara – Susanna still has bags of energy and is running from adult to adult.  Marmar who speaks a little English asks me if I remember the chicken that she cooked us last time we came to stay.  I did remember the chicken and the meal we had had.  Ehab gives me regular updates on the dominoes match – he and Peter are winning so far – the outcome will be decided on this last game.

A cheer goes up and Peter and Ehab have won the game of dominoes.  Ehab and Zakaria laugh in disbelief.  Ehab tells me that I was right and he should have had more faith in Peter in the first place.  Margreet goes into the house and brings out a tray of cold cans of beer which is received gratefully by everyone.

We chat and laugh a little further into the evening (Egyptians always seem to be laughing apart from when they are discussing politics or religion).  The laughing echoes up and around the houses that form an L shape around one corner of the green land. These large houses are 3 stories high ­– a floor is built as a flat for each of the sons of the family and their wives.  In this case both Margreet and Marmar live and work in the house together with the mother of Ehab.  I can’t imagine living in such close proximity to two other families.  Although the young wives have their own flats with kitchens, most cooking is done on the ground floor in the kitchen of the mother.  I’m sure that this semi communal living has its benefits but as for me I love my solitude, my downtime where I can please myself when I cook, when I clean and what I do. 

The children begin to fall asleep.  People begin to drift off, wishing “Tispah all kheir”.  We also say our goodbyes and Ehab walks us around to Peter’s father’s house.

They have arranged for us to stay in another room in the house with a balcony. Hopefully with a bit of ventilation and the ceiling fan the night will be a bit more comfortable.  Tispa alla kheir.

Last night we didn’t even get chance to wash the Cairo dust out of our hair – we just collapsed into bed.  In the morning I wake up with a start – no noise, no uninvited alarm calls.  I just had a sense that it was late and we might miss breakfast.  It was 10.10am and breakfast is served until 10.30am.  We decide to chance it and just throw on some clothes, give hair a quick brush and wipe off the remaining residue of yesterday’s makeup (my makeup not Peters).

We make it, and relish in the luxury of having breakfast on tap.  Eptisam looks after us and makes sure that are cups are filled with tea until we leave.

We go back up to the room, shower and then begin to unpack our bags from Cairo.  We both need to charge our iphones but can’t seem to find the charger.  Peter automatically thinks it’s been stolen – I tell him to phone the Sheraton and see if anyone found it in the room.  As I go through my things I notice that a video camera is also missing.  Peter is now convinced they’ve been stolen.  I remember Peter was very meticulous about checking all of the drawers and the rest of the suite before we left so now I was thinking the same.

Peter phones the Sheraton and he is told to phone back in 15 minutes as the room service manager isn’t available.  Now the next bit is a bit of a palaver so I will make it brief.

Peter phoned back and the room service manager puts him through to lost property.  Lost property tells him to phone back again whilst they check.  Peter phoned lost property back again.  They say they have found the charger and the video camera but they don’t have the key to the safe.  They tell Peter that he needs to send someone for the items the day after tomorrow.

I think Peter is dumbstruck.  This is supposed to be a 5 star hotel and the only person with the key to lost property is off work.  Things don’t seem right.  Thinking back I don’t remember seeing the iphone charger or the video camera for the last few days of the Cairo Trip – we agree that skulduggery is afoot.  Peter says he is going to do a write up about this on Trip Advisor. 

After this pantomime we decide to go to the pool.  Later that evening we are going to dinner with friends Tony and Nasreen which could be a late night so we make the most of what’s left of the day.

We stay by the pool until about 5.30, just before the sun begins to set.  We go up to the room, shower and sit on the balcony and drink a glass of red wine.  From the balcony we see a line of people carrying things down to the pontoon.  A DJ greets the staff with handshakes and kisses and carries what looks like speakers.  Chef’s carry trays of food on their shoulders.  A local woman dressed in black carries a basket of bread on her head.  We see them take the steps down to the Nile and Peter notices that a large tent has been erected on the island further down the river.  They must be having an Egyptian night with belly dancers and musicians.

An hour or so later we are ready to go to Tony’s.  We leave the hotel and are deluged by calls for taxi’s.  We take one go over to Sawagi. As we approach Tony’s flat we can hear loud wedding music coming from the street behind.  We are greeted by Tony and Nasreen.  Their two young daughters Hannah and Jenna play.  We chat for a while – the music from the wedding can still be hear.  We go out onto the balcony and above the music we hear gun shots.  Tony tells us that it is very common nowadays to hear guns being shot at weddings.  Firecrackers are usually lit to celebrate a marriage but on this particular night we can hear a handgun and also an automatic rifle.  Tony says that he didn’t know whether it was safe for us to come to his flat as there are a lot of guns being carried by local people since the lack of police on the streets.

Peter had already told Tony about our things that need to be collected at the Sheraton in Cairo.  Tony had already contacted one of the drivers who works for the same tour company.  He was currently in Hurghada but was to pick someone up from Cairo and bring them back to Luxor.  He would collect our things from the hotel and bring them back for us.

Nasreen has cooked a large meal for us.  Rice, salad and 2 plates piled high with what looks like chicken – like chicken but the meat looks like a different colour.  Peter tells me that it’s pigeon stuffed with freek.  http://www.whats4eats.com/poultry/hamam-mahshi-recipe There is also kofta and potatoes and bread – so much food!

After the meal we drink tea and mangoes, apples and pears are eaten.  Hannah (two and a half year old) entertains us with some belly dancing.  It’s a lovely evening but we don’t stay too long as we still need to catch up on sleep after the Cairo trip. 

Reflecting on the evening I remember noticing how Nasreen kept feeding Hannah at every opportunity – even after we had left the dining table.  I remember Tony telling me that Hannah was quite poorly when she was little and they didn’t think she would survive.  As I’ve discovered on my many trips to Egypt and especially when visiting the family – feeding people is a given.  I don’t think that it’s just about hospitality (although this is important) – not when it’s your own children.  More of a desire to ensure the children are well fed and therefore healthy – even if they are from a middle class family.

Having suffered with bad stomachs on my trips to Egypt I find it difficult when I am presented with piles of food.  The heat really supresses my appetite and I also become over faced with the amount of food placed in front of me.  You know there are always eyes on you – especially from whoever’s cooked the food seeking approval by seeing you tuck in.  The bad stomachs don’t come from the food – I honestly believe it comes from the heat but it is always best to be careful about what you eat.

The Cairo traffic alarm clock wakes us at 6.00am again – always so reliable. We finish the last few bits of packing.  Peter meticulously checks that we haven't left anything in draws and cupboards (even though we didn't use them).  We mooch around the suite, take in the last arial views of Cairo from the balcony and then go to check out.   At the reception desk Peter asks the member of staff if he knew what the shooting was yesterday morning.  He tells us that somebody had tried to steal a car.  The police response to me seemed incredibly heavy handed as we must have counted over 20 police at the scene of the crime.

We leave our luggage at the hotel as we still have a few visits to make. We had spotted Abdul in the hotel car park earlier so again escape out of the back of the hotel through the coffee shop. We get a taxi back to the Khan – one and half hours certainly wasn’t long enough before. This time we seem to have been dropped off at a different entrance to the Khan.  We are now in a maze of narrow alleyways and can’t quite get out barings. Nothing to lose – we just found ourselves meandering along the streets taking in everything this wonderful scene has to offer.

http://www.sevenveils.co.uk/learning/articles/cairo.php

We have found ourselves in Wikala el Ghuria – the northern quarter of the bazaar. We stop briefly to read a sign that is promoting a workshop – craftsmen and women can be seen producing local handcrafts such as tapestry and inlay work. Whilst we read the sign Peter notices a young man in the spice shop next door watching us. Peter asks him about the workshop and we are told that it won’t be open for another two months. Peter strikes up conversation with him. He tells us his name is Mohamed and that if we want to see crafts being produced he will take us. We have no real itinerary so decide to take him up on his offer.

Mohammed tells us that this area was inhabited by many Turks. Turks came to trade here in the courtyard of the Wikala - his own father is Turkish and his mother is Egyptian. He asks us what crafts we would like to see in particular and told him lantern making as we hadn’t seen this yet. Peter and I had had great trouble trying to make contact with lantern makers directly – there are plenty of agents acting on behalf of the manufacturers but this wasn’t going to enable us to see the crafts being produced first hand and also find out about the crafts people themselves. He says he can take us but the lantern maker won’t be open until 1.00pm. In the meantime he takes us to an inlay workshop.

We follow him through the maze of alleyways. We go deep into the Khan until we come into a tiny courtyard and the entrance to the workshop. This feels like a secret place – a place where tourists are unlikely to stumble. We are away from the madness of the Khan – everything is silent. We are introduced to Mahmoud who invites us in. The workshop is tiny – no bigger than 3 metres by 3 metres. Every inch of the workshop is fully utilised with high shelves stacked with plain wooden frames and the carcases of jewellery boxes waiting to be decorated. In the corner a worker sits at a small bench carefully placing small bits of mother pearl into an already etched out design. Next to him is a pot of animal glue – a smell that takes me back to college in the 1970’s where I studied upholstery and cabinet making.

We are shown the shells, how they are cut and then how each inlaid piece is sanded down and lacquered to produce a high sheen finish. Hanging on every spare inch of the walls are inlaid picture frames, tambourines, shelves – all covered in a thick layer of dust – probably from the sanding process. On the wall is a small glass fronted cabinet. Mahmoud opens the cabinet which reveals a display of jewellery boxes. He takes a couple out and asks us if we know which ones are fake. Peter and I begin to examine them and tell him that we can’t see any difference. He takes a knife and starts to scrape the bottom of one – and then another. He tells us “you see, one is plastic and the other is camel bone”. He was referring to the frame on the bottom of the jewellery box. He then went on to tell us that they make the fake ones for the Khan and the real ones with camel bone for hotels and expensive shops in the city. I think at that point both Peter and I felt we're trying to be taken in with smoke and mirrors! He showed us one of the ‘real’ jewellery boxes and told us how the internal frame of the box was made from one piece of wood – not jointed. How it was lined very well and finished to a high standard and that the black wood was real ebony.

I look at a couple of the jewellery boxes and select one and ask how much. He tells us 75le. I suspect this is more than the true value but we agree on 75le and also buy a small picture frame for the same price. Poor Peter has haggling exhaustion plus he doesn’t like haggling when I’m with him – man’s work I think! We are invited into the courtyard to drink tea. Mahmoud smokes shisha and Mohammed joins us. The courtyard has a real charm.  These are ancient buildings and their history, the families that have lived in them – the essence of the lives and loves of generations of people, permeate the walls.

They chat in Arabic – Peter occasionally gives a translation for me – I’ll have to sack him as a translator I think! Mahmoud brings out a plastic wallet which is full of photographs. They are photographs of the pieces of work they have decorated from jewellery boxes to the most amazing pieces of furniture. Mahmoud is particularly proud of a Regency style seat that was commissioned by the French Ambassador. He explains to us that the cabinet makers in the Khan produce the wooden furniture frames. Glass makers in the Khan hand make any glassware for example on a glass fronted cabinet. Metal workers in the Khan will produce the handles and hinges and eventually the inlay workers will decorate and finish the pieces ready for delivery. Also in the Khan there may be a specialist to pack the pieces and also an export agency to ship it to wherever it needs to go. This truly is a co-operative approach to business – a network of tradesmen working together towards an end goal. I found myself reflecting on how different things were back in Garagos. A lone pottery in an isolated village – any contacts to pack and ship would have to be made in Luxor or maybe even in Cairo. We take a couple of photographs and say goodbye to Mahmoud. Peter tells me later that he thinks Mahmoud and Mohammed are related. I imagine generations of the same families have remained in the Khan for centuries.  

Mohammed takes us to the lantern maker whose workshop is now open. Again another tiny little workshop. Mohammed introduces us to the owner Hani who has a table outside where he is finishing the copper pieces. Inside another Mohammed shows us how he solders the copper panels together.  I only take a few photos and videos before the camera battery dies. I look around (standing on the same spot). Lanterns hang from the ceiling and are also stacked up on the floor – taking up three quarters of the floor space. There is also a shelf with small lanterns and candle holders.

Hani the owner shows us that some of the designs are based around traditional Islamic patterns and others represent the Coptic cross. The design he showed us of the Coptic cross had 12 points or sides which he tells us represent the 12 desciples.  

http://www.seiyaku.com/customs/crosses/coptic.html

Although the lanterns here have a certain charm, they are not the quality that I am looking for – the copper/brass is very thin and I doubt that some of them are copper or brass at all. We thank Hani for his time and leave.

Mohammed invites us back to his workshop for a drink – hibiscus tea. He picks up a handful of hibiscus petals and then summons a boy from the street to go and make the tea. Peter asks Mohammed if he can do a spice mix for us – Ras el Hanout in Morocco – Mixed spices in Egypt! After we receive our bag of spice Mohammed shows us his saffron. He produces two tins and he asks us to guess which is the good one and which is the bad one – oh heck – another yarn again! We’re not worried – Mohammed has been a fantastic guide around the area we have already decided to buy some saffron from him. Neither is real saffron but we play along with him anyway and then make the purchase.

The boy arrives with the hibiscus tea and we sit down and drink. Mohammed tells us that his father is a professional Tanoura (Sufi dancer) – otherwise known as a Whirling Dervish. He would be dancing in Wikala the following night. This is such a shame – I would love to have seen the show. We have seen many Sufi dancers in Luxor – they traipse from hotel to hotel and cruise boat to cruise boat doing the same show night in and night out. It is an amazing spectacle, very hypnotic to watch – and I would imagine even more so with a professional dancer.

http://focalfantasy.com/CultureTravel/Egypt/16822027_qQvmMM/1/1291238151_p9bB...

Mohammed tells us that he will get the key to his house which is above the spice shop. "Wikala was built in 1504 A.D. by Sultan Qunsuwah Al Ghouri, late during the reign of Mamelukes. Wakalat El-Ghouri was originally designed as an inn for accommodating traders coming from all parts of the globe as well as a marketplace for trading goods and a venue for making trade deals. Before the discovery of the Route of Good Hope, Egypt had been the hub of overland trade caravans from east and west …………"

http://www.touregypt.net/ghuriwakala.htm

Two minutes later Mohammed comes back and invites us to enter a large wooden doorway around the corner from his spice shop. We climb up four or five floors – I lose count – the heat is oppressive and I’m totally out of shape! We reach the roof of the building. Mohammed and Peter continue to climb over the rooftops – I stay and take some photographs – just absolutely wonderful views over the Khan and also of Cairo. This is just fantastic - we can see all the way over to the Citadel.

Peter and Mohammed return. We go back to the spice shop where we say our goodbyes. I’d love to come back and see Mohammed – he has been an excellent (unofficial) guide and has been a key to helping us unlock some of the secret treasures held within the Khan.

We cross a small bridge that takes us to the middle of the Khan – the part we are more familiar with. We decide to make another attempt to find Midak Alley. We wander up and down the streets we know – relying on our barings to guide us to this small area. We end up doubling back on ourselves a couple of times and then we eventually give and decide to go to the Naguib Mahfouz Café to eat. As we make our way there we pass a lantern bazaar. I notice a lantern in the same design that I have at home, hanging at the front of the stall. The owner – another Mohammed comes to talk to us. I ask him how much the lantern is and he says 180le. This was cheaper than what we had paid for it in a local shop in Luxor. I liked the fact that Mohammed hadn’t tried to haggle with us and start with some ridiculous price. He tells us that his family have a factory that produce the lanterns. We talk for a while – he shows us some lovely silver plated and copper coffee pots. We exchange details and tell him that we will contact him when we’re back in England.

We arrive at the café and order tea and a mezze to share. Babaganoush, tiny cheese pies, tahini, yoghurt dip, tameya, nice fresh bread – gorgeous! We sit and watch life go by for a while. Khan is a carnival full of lively characters. Everything is a show and I’m always entertained by the interaction between the locals and tourists. Some tourists are up for playing the game – others run the length of the alley, keeping their heads down and trying not to make eye contact with any of the vendors. Walking in the Khan definitely feels a little more 'full on'– from the vendors that is. It’s still friendly but just a little more 'in your face' than what I’ve experienced in the past. It’s definitely a much more comfortable experience than in the Souk’s of Marrakesh but business is bad here – 9 months into a revolution and everyone is desperate for the business. It’s now 4pm and we leave the café and the Khan and catch a taxi over to El Daher to visit Peter’s aunt Aziz and cousin Ayman.

We arrive at the apartment. Cake and tea await us. When I say I don’t have sugar in my tea this is met with great surprise. I now remember that every time I have been offered tea by Peter’s family and I say I don’t take sugar – it’s always met with a look of shock. Sugar although not expensive is a treat and a treat that is offered as part of their hospitality. Ayman is an account manager in a tour company in Cairo. Most young people seem to have employment connected to tourism in one way or another. We spend an hour or so – Peter and Ayman talking about politics and how bad the revolution has been for ordinary people so far. We now have to go and pick up our luggage from the hotel. Before we go to the airport we have one more family visit to make. Ayman walks us out.

We get a taxi easily outside on the street – the driver is a young guy called Mina. Back onto the crazy freeways of Cairo. Traffic over the island is still congested and the beeping relentless. I begin to worry that Abdul will be outside the hotel. We will have to pull up to the front of the hotel to pick up the luggage. Peter tells me not to worry – he has been speaking to Mina and if Abdul is there he will explain that Mina is his cousin and has been driving us around Cairo for the last couple of days to visit the family. Sorted.

Luggage is picked up, doorman tipped and we say goodbye to crazy Cairo city. We drive out to Heliopolis. Although the traffic is still very heavy, the streets become wider, tree lined and we can definitely sense we are driving into a more affluent area. Peter makes several phone calls to his Aunt Alice and Uncle Michel for directions to their apartment. We drive past St Georges Church where a wedding seems to be taking place. Peter tells me that this is the church where is cousin got married so we must be close to his aunt and uncles home. Eventually we find it. As we get out of Mina’s car both Michel and Alice are standing on the balcony waving to us. We walk down a driveway lined with potted cacti and enter the building at the side. We climb the stairs and are greeted with warm handshakes and four kisses on cheeks. We are invited to take a seat out on the balcony as it is cooler.

Alice makes us tea and again is surprised when I say I don’t take sugar. She asks me if I will have just a little sugar – Peter and I laugh. Michel and Alice are about to go to Austalia to visit their son Maged. He and his family have been in Australia for 5 years where he works in a managerial position in a bank. They have been going to Australia to stay for 6 months of the year for the last few years – now they are retired they can live between Australia and Egypt quite easily. As I look out from the balcony across the tree lined street I can see other families doing the same, drinking tea and relishing in the warm gentle breeze, far less polluted than central Cairo. We take some photos of us together – now having to use my iphone as the battery on my cameras has exhausted itself. Mina is still waiting for us. We say goodbye, wave goodbye to Alice and Michel who are again standing on the balcony.

Off we go to the airport. It’s now nearly 10.00pm and the flight leaves at 11.00pm. It’s a good job that we didn’t make it to Egyptair to get an earlier flight as we’ve really squeezed every minute into these four days. We leave Cairo. As we take off I think about how the city below is just beginning to come alive.

An hour later we land back in Luxor. Again Bob has arranged for one of his drivers to pick us up from the airport and take us back to the hotel. Just as Cairo is swinging into action, Luxor is going to sleep. The streets are empty and all is silent – not even one beeping car.

I wake up early again to the sound of beeping horns – I think I’m almost beginning to expect it like my morning alarm call for work each morning.  I open the balcony doors and sit on the sofa writing up my notes for the blog.  Peter wakes up and takes a shower.  As he comes back into the room we hear two loud bangs from below - they definitely sounded like gunshots.  Peter goes onto the balcony to look.  After a minute or two he tells me that the place is swarming with police – I can hear multiple sirens in the distance.  I tentatively make my way onto the balcony and pluck up enough courage to look down.  There are 3 large police trucks and at least another 3 police cars on the roundabout next to the hotel.  We both take turns in videoing the spectacle below.  I imagine it was an attempted bank robbery as the police seemed to be concentrated around the Faisal Islamic Bank.  The furore dies down and we decide to get our act together and get ready to go out. 

Once we’re ready Peter calls me from the balcony.  He tells me that he can see Abdul waiting outside the hotel.  I feel bad but we decide to go out via the coffee shop at the back of the hotel.  Maybe we should at least have told Abdul that he hadn’t been fair with his prices but on the other hand both Peter and I felt let down by him and taken advantage of.  We had known him for over four years and he was even a witness at our marriage.  Abdul is from a relatively middle class family and all of his family are in good jobs so we make the assumption that he is pushing the limits as he would with any other tourist.  Anyway, that is probably the last time we will see Abdul as we are told that the Sheraton is due to close shortly for refurbishment.  This particular Sheraton we’re told is owned by the Libyan Government.  Not sure where we got that nugget from so I’m unable to verify it.

Once out of the back and onto the street it isn’t long before we pick up a taxi.  Our first stop today is Al Ain Gallery in Dokki not far from the hotel.  Taxi fare 10le.  The gallery is owned by Randa Fahmy a master metalwork designer who showcases her own designs and also that of other local craftsmen.  This is a beautiful gallery.  For sale are Randa’s own metal work designs, beautiful copper lanterns that take their influence from the traditional designs.  But Randa gives a modern twist to her work.  There were also substantial pieces of wooden furniture that were deeply carved and adorned with arabesque features.  We also saw pottery from Fayoum, embroidered wall hangings and charming cloth dolls from Siwa.  A section of the gallery houses a jewellery collection by her sister, acclaimed jewellery designer Azza Fahmy.  We buy  a couple of pieces of pottery and as we leave this beautiful gallery I try to take mental pictures of the way the products are displayed.  http://www.randafahmy.com/index.php

We are out on the street again hailing a taxi.  We are now going back to Zamalek to the Alef Gallery that we failed to find a few days earlier.  The traffic over onto the island as usual is hideous but it isn’t long before we arrive at our destination – cost 15le.  This again is an absolutely beautiful gallery.  It is made up of themed rooms that display the most beautiful products – all handcrafted, all based on traditional styles but again with a modern twist.  One room displays fabric, fabric made of cotton and silk and really exquisite patterns.  We are told that the gallery has been open for 20 years and that they employ all of the craftsmen who produce the work.  This gallery is very well located to benefit from the wealthy residents in Zamalek.  Definitely worth a visit – even just to admire the wonderful handcrafts.  http://alefgallery.com/

We leave the gallery and decide to walk down the street.  I’d read that there was a shop that sold handmade products from Siwa around the corner.  We had timed this with the end of school – clearly a private school.  Children emptied out onto the quiet street into waiting cars and mini buses.  Groups of children approached us trying out their English with “hello””how are you?” “I love you”.  We find the shop and take a look around.  Again another beautifully designed shop.  The walls are decorated with panels of rock salt mined from Siwa itself.  The shop has a range of lovely embroidered cotton tunics, shoes and handmade jewellery.  Children knock on the shop window to try and attract my attention.  We say our goodbyes and make our way to a Costa Coffee that we’d noticed earlier – again another opportunity to take a bathroom break in surroundings that you know will meet a minimum standard.  After tea and chocolate gateau we go out and find another taxi.  Here we meet Sami the taxi driver who we actually spend the rest of the day with.  We ask him to take us to the Abdeen Pottery in El Fostat village, Old Cairo.  I’ve got my bearings a little scewed but if I’m right we’re not far from Coptic Cairo.  Sami tells that we are in a local area, an area where tourists don’t come too often and that everyone in the neighbourhood looks out for each other.  As we drive into the Fostat village we can see that the style of the houses is different to what we’ve seen anywhere else.  The buildings look as though they would be more at home in a coastal village somewhere.  Many of the houses are decorated with tiles – very charming.  All seem to be in the business of making pottery as huge pots and jars are piled up in front of each house.  We are looking specifically one pottery that we read about in Cairo 360 – a what’s on guide for Cairo.

We are greeted by the brother of the owner of the pottery.  We are shown around the pottery and get to see the artisans at work.  One man does the hand painting, he is currently decorating tiles in a traditional Turkish design. 

We then go through to another room which is set up with several potters wheels and a couple of finishing benches.  We watch one artisan throwing tiny perfume pots.  These are made by piling up a tower of clay about 15 inches high and then working the top section into a small perfume bottle.  We have several of these bottles at home already though the contain holy oil from the church and not perfume. 

We are then taken to an artisan who is cutting patterns out of clay lanterns which are then left to dry before firing in the kiln. 

We are then left to browse the products which are displayed in various parts of the pottery.  We select 4 pieces to buy – a tile and a ceramic plate decorated in a Turkish design and a tables protector for a teapot and a soap dish.  We don’t ask the prices of anything – Peter goes to pay.  We say goodbye and are back in the taxi with Sami.  I ask Peter how much it cost for the products and he told me 200le.  This was way over the true value of it.  They knew we were looking for suppliers of handcrafted items and yet they still overcharged us – perhaps Peter should have haggled a bit – after all he is Egytian!  

As we leave Fostat village we stop at the Amr ibn aas mosque to take a few photos. Sami asks us if we would like to see a crystal factory.  We didn’t have anything else planned so we agreed and then left it to Sami to drive us there.  I think I was expecting to be taken to another small workshop where everything is made by hand.  I could see that the area we were approaching was getting more and more industrial.  One and a half hours later we arrived at the factory of Crystal Asfour one of the worlds largest crystal making factories.  This particular branch employs 28,000 people – there is another factory in Cairo which is even bigger.  I wasn’t sure what type of place we were coming to.  As we walked into the building we walked up some steps and then found ourselves in a massive showroom adorned with crystal from floor to ceiling.  There must have been hundreds of chandeliers hanging from the ceiling – some so huge they could only be designed for large hotels or palaces.  We spent about forty five minutes walking around looking at the crystal – I’m not actually a fan of crystal and the only thing that I bought was a crystal bracelet.  Peter tells me that when he went to pay he was given a discount – without asking!  Excellent! 

It was now about 7.30 and it had already turned dark ages ago.  We were now going to visit Peter’s Uncle Samaan in Ain Shams – Sami takes us there.  We have been with Sami for half a day and we are charged 100le – Peter gives him 120le.  When we arrive in the street Uncle Samaan is already waiting for us on the street.  After introductions we are taken to their flat on the first floor of an apartment block.  The wall between their flat and the neighbours is smeared with the red brown bloody handprints.  This Islamic custom is carried out as a form of celebration  for weddings, new baby, graduation, new car.  A lamb is usually brought to the door of the house/flat and slaughtered - either by the butcher or the woman of the house.  Blood is imprinted on the doorstep or doors or near to the entrance of a house and is a sign of protection for whatever change has happened.  

Uncle Samaan and his family have a lovely apartment, decorated in bright blue with carefully co-ordinated sofa’s and drapes.  The walls are adorned with Christian pictures and statues of Mary sit in display cabinets and on sideboards.  I am introduced to his wife Agabi and daughters Monica and Veronica.  Monica is at university studying German and English so she temporarily takes over from Peter’s translation duties.  We talk about lots of things.  We talk about the traffic in Cairo and how taxi’s are a law untothemselves.  They tell me that both Samaan and Monica go by taxi everywhere – Samaan because he is a lawyer and needs to get to different parts of the city quickly and Monica because it is unsafe for her on public transport.  I ask why it is unsafe for her.  Agabi tells me that since the revolution, some boys think they are given the right to behave how they want to.  On public transport they grab at girls and make inappropriate comments – it isn’t safe for girls to go on public transport in Cairo.  Freedom they tell me, for some people means freedom to behave badly - I recall this isn't the first time I have heard this comment.  I tell Monica that in England it can also sometimes be unsafe for women travelling alone – I tell her about the pink taxi’s for women only – maybe they need  pink buses for women only in Cairo.

It isn’t long before we are invited to eat.  Agabi apologies that she hasn’t cooked a home meal for us but she was unsure when we would be visiting.  She brings out a selection of bread, cheeses, fried chicken and salad. It was exactly what we needed.  Samaan left to pick up some cola from the shop below.  I noticed that everytime he popped out of the flat the door was locked immediately after him.  I got the sense that this was a family that didn’t feel too safe at home but I didn’t want to ask why.  It is now 10.00pm and it is time for us to go.  We say goodbye as we leave we are told that we must visit again and next time a special meal will be prepared for us.  Uncle Samaan walks us down and waits with us until we find a taxi.  We arrive back at the hotel exhausted.  Tomorrow is our last day so we pack and then go to bed.