I’m woken at around 6.00am by the collective sound of a thousand cars beeping.  Again there is a thick layer of smog floating over the river Nile.  Peter is still asleep so I make an attempt to start writing up the blog.  It’s almost impossible to keep up with on a daily basis.  I decide to just write manual notes and then will type it all up when I get a chance – more than likely when I get home to England.  I download some of the photo’s I’ve taken so far just in case anything happens to the camera when we’re out and about.

We had said that we would meet Abdul for breakfast but decided just to have a cup of tea in one of the hotel’s café’s.  It’s midday before we go out to see Abdul.  Our first appointment of the day is over in Nasr City – an hour or so outside of central Cairo.  We had arranged to meet with a supplier of copper lanterns.  The journey there was horrendous – the traffic in the suburbs of Cairo is just as bad as central Cairo.  We had to phone our contact a couple of times once in Nasr City to find the office.  We did eventually find it and was met outside by the owner of the company.  Although they didn’t have a show room they had arranged to bring a selection of lanterns to their office for us to look at along with some mother of pearl inlaid mirrors.  We took photos and we were very pleased with the quality of the lanterns.  We were invited to drink tea and we had the opportunity to ask a range of questions first hand.  We asked about the packing, the shipping, the timescales etc. 

We didn’t stay long – very short time compared to the length of the journey there.  We now had to face that same journey back to central Cairo.  We skirt past City Stars – a fantastic shopping mall I had previously visited with my friend Jane who lives in Luxor.  City Stars is huge - almost a city within a city!                   http://www.citystars.com.eg/citystars/index.asp

Back in central Cairo we ask Abdul to drop us at the Khan el Khalili.  This is one of my favourite places in Cairo and where I could easily spend days wandering around it’s maze of alleyways and ancient bazaars.  It was known as the Turkish Bazaar during the Ottoman period – now generally know as Khan.  http://www.touregypt.net/khan.htm    http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Khan_el-Khalili

The ancient Islamic architecture gives you a real sense of another time a time when the merchants from afar used to come and pedal their wares.  My guide book tells me that “The souq dates back to 1382, when Emir Djaharks el-Khalili built a big caravanserai (or khan) right here.  A caravanseri was a sort of hotel for traders, and usually the focal point for economic activity for any surrounding area. This caravanserai is still there, you just ask for the narrow street of Sikka Khan el-Khalili and Badestan.”

My fondest memory of the Khan el Khalili was during my trip with my friend Jane.  I love the novels of Naguib Mahfouz and had recently read Zuqak al Midak which was based in the Khan.  We decided to go and seek out the alley where this story took place.  We had great fun with map in one hand and limited Arabic between us trying to find this elusive place.  Eventually we found it.  I was shocked.  The alley was tiny.  At the end of the short alley stones steps took us up past entrances to a large house divided into flats.  It didn’t match what I had imagined the alley to look like.  So many characters with so many trauma’s, hardships, love affairs, Kirsha’s café where men went to smoke shisha, listen to the story tellers – all taking place in this tiny little alleyway.  At the time of this particular visit there still stood a little coffee shop called Kirsha’s.  The coffee shop had no more than 6 small tables where locals came to drink tea and smoke shisha.  The wall was adorned with photo’s of Naguib Mahfouz himself.  We were told by the proprietor that Naguib Mahfouz used to sit in this very coffee shop to pen his stories.  Also on the wall is a rather imposing picture of a man dressed in traditional garb.  We asked who this was.  The proprietor told us that this was Kirsha himself, his own grandfather.  Experience tells me to take this story with a pinch of salt.  However, I really wanted to believe that I really was in Kirsha’s Café, the very one that Naguib Mahfouz wrote about and that we were experiencing a little bit of Egyptian history and culture.  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Naguib_Mahfouz     http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Midaq_Alley_(novel)

Back to today. Peter and sit in a coffee shop on the edge of the Khan – absolutely parched.  As soon as we sit down we have various pedlars approaching us with sun glasses, jewellery and scarves.  I show no interest but Peter purchases some jewellery for a 'very cheap price' (and also very cheap in quality) but all I can think is that Peter sees it as a benevolent act to help his fellow countrymen!

I ask Peter to investigate the toilets whilst he goes to pay.  He comes back and says he wouldn’t recommend the toilets so we leave and make our way to the Naguib Mahfouz Café where I know the toilets are absolutely immaculate. (This is not the cafe mentioned earlier in Zuqak al Midak) We order more tea.  I catch sight of one of the staff that I had my photograph taken with 3 years ago on my trip with Jane.  Great memories!

We venture forth again working our way through the bazaar sellers presenting their wares to us as we pass.  It’s almost like running the gauntlet – too scared to stop and look at any products or we might find ourselves trapped.  As we move to another area – a bit quieter, I stop to take some photographs.  2 men sit on  chairs outside a shop.  One who speaks very good English suggests a good spot for me to capture the picture I was after.  He moves his chair so I can get a good shot.  He then politely asks us to look at his hand blown glass – especially the Christmas decorations.  Now, this is a much better selling technique.  Why oh why doesn’t everyone else realise that the more aggressive you are the less likely people are to buy?

His name is Gabr and he tells us that he used to live in England.  He also had a friend who used to work in Harrods and that this friend used to import glass products to Harrods.  After we enter he brings out a big selection of glass decorations.  We had already been speaking to various other suppliers and manufacturers so knew what the prices were.  He wasn’t willing to give what we call a good price for a single purchase.  We told him we would be interested in purchasing a large number but we would have to negotiate on price.  He told us that he had a friend in America with a website of all his products.  If we looked at this and then told him what items we were interested in we could then discuss prices – either by fax or phone.  This seems a bit too long winded for me.  Without an email address the communication process can be very lengthy.  Add to that the difference in concept of time – we needed a speedier mode of working.  However, we have nice sample to take back to England and to help us decide whether this is something we should add to our range.  It is easy to feel a little deflated when you realise that business transactions can be such a long drawn out process.  Small enterprises like this could reach out to a wider range of customers if they utilised the internet and email.  But I also need to learn to accept other ways of working - regardless of how long they take.

We say our goodbyes.  This is a short trip to the Khan – only one and a half hours.  We phone Abdul who is still waiting for us and ask him to drive us to El Quba Garden – Garden of the Domes.  We are going to visit some of Peter's family.  The area is famous for having two residences previously belonging to King Farouk – one of palaces being the largest in Egypt.  We arrive at the flat and I leave Peter to pay Abdul.  Abdul asks for 300le which again is way over the going price.  We leave it until we get back to the hotel to discuss this further but I think we have already decided not to use Abdul again.

I am introduced to Peter’s mother’s sister, Akhlas and her husband Mourid.  Also Peter’s cousin Shareen who is married to Raymond and their daughter Molly and also cousin Christine.  Such a warm welcome.  We sit and talk and it isn’t long before we are invited to sit and eat dinner.  Again we are presented with very generous plates of food.  Very delicious and most welcome after such a busy day.  After dinner we move to one of the bedrooms to sit where there is air conditioning.  Molly attends a private French school and excitedly gets out her text books to show Peter.  Peter begins to read from the books and Molly takes great delight in correcting his French pronounciation.  Later Mourid brings through some photographs that had been taken in Garagos in the 1930’s.  He tells us this was part of a much bigger album that had contained photographs of local people in Garagos and how they lived at the time – how they dressed, where they worked and what they looked like.  Photographs were taken in profile and face forward - a bit like mug shots. I can imagine that if a study like this was done nowadays people would find it rather intrusive.   Mourid says that over the years he has given various bits of the album away and only these few pages remain.  This is a shame – Peter and I would love to have seen more.

I tell Mourid about an academic paper I came across on the internet.  It is a study that was done in 1999 on the impact of the conversion of Copts to Catholicism in Garagos.  The website only gives a synopsis of the paper but it can be purchased in full.  However, it is written in French.  Mourid who used to work for the French Embassy in Cairo before retiring speaks fluent French and said that he would be interested in seeing the paper and between them all they would be happy to translate it.  Time moved quickly.  Its 9.00pm and Raymond needs to leave for Hurgada – a 7 hour drive from Cairo.  He tells us that as soon as he arrives he will start work without any sleep.  This already is becoming a common theme where well educated men are leaving their families to go and work on the Red Sea coast where tourism is booming.  This must be so difficult for the family.

We spend the rest of the evening chatting and we laugh as Molly continues to try and deliver a French lesson to Peter.  At 11.00pm we also say our goodbyes.  We are told that next time we must stay with them in their home and not stay in a hotel.  We go out to the street to find a taxi and it’s only minutes before we find one.  Now we may have already decided not to use Abdul again but I think after this particular journey I can certainly appreciate what a safe driver he is.  I think we just climbed into the Taxi from Hell!  Peter is very good at striking up conversation with people but the driver didn’t speak – just grunted responses.  He drove like an absolute lunatic and after routing around on the backseat discovered that there weren’t any seatbelts in the back.  He drive at high speed in very congested traffic, weaving and dodging other cars, beeping his horn at every opportunity.  This can only be described as a white knuckle ride.  I kept praying that soon I would catch sight of the Cairo Tower and would then be confident that this ordeal would shortly be over.  We hit some congestion in and around Tahrir Square where I thought if we crash at least it will be at a lower speed.  As we approached Dokki via one of the bridges I could see how heaving the city was.  It seemed busier at midnight than it did during the day – both with pedestrians and traffic.

We eventually arrived back – in one piece thankfully.  Peter and I sat on the balcony (well I’m more half in and half out of the room).  We watch the busy metropolis come to life and try to think about what the following day will bring.

What a day!  It started at 4.30am – we had already packed for Cairo and now had one hour to get ready before Bob came to pick us up for the airport.  All done – at 5.30 Bob arrives and we make the 15 minute journey to the airport.  We say our goodbyes to Bob who will be leaving Luxor later this day to start his new business venture in Hurghada.  We wish him the very best. 

We check in – everything is on time and we board a rather packed plane to Cairo.  This is my fifth trip to Cairo and in the past have flown on rather spacious planes that usually had many empty seats.  Our original flight had been cancelled and changed to an hour later (which was better) but it seems that the luxury of flying on half empty planes is over.

After a short wait in the lounge we board the plane.  The safety instructionsare relayed in both Arabic and English and the plane takes off.  As the plane increases in altitude we can see the landscape below change immediately from the green irrigated land to the soft undulating sandstone terrain.  Dried up river beds snake along the valley floor and the repeating scene of the desert below feels hypnotic .  We follow the River Nile north towards Cairo.

It’s a nice short flight to Cairo – 1 hour.  We begin to feel a drop in altitude.  As I look out of the window the terrain below begins to change again.  Instead of the instant change from green irrigated land to desert, the view below goes immediately from desert to densely populated metropolis.  Tower blocks poke out through a thick layer of smog.  (always more visible in Cairo in the early morning when the temperature is a little lower).  It’s only once in Cairo that you realize the source of all the smog  – the traffic here is like nothing else on earth.  I remember the first time I came to Cairo on an organized trip – our tour guide told us “We don’t have rush hour in Cairo – we have rush day”.

Abdul is waiting for us as arranged.  It has been 3 and a bit years since we were in Cairo and the same since we saw Abdul.  Peter and I were in Cairo to get married – that’s another story!

As we drove from the airport to downtown Cairo, Abdul asked us if we noticed anything different.  Looking out of the car window at the broad tree-lined freeway everything seemed quite familiar.  As we drive through affluent Heliopolis we pass Baron Empain’s Hindu style Palace - it’s unusual architecture still looks out of place – but also perfectly at home.  http://curious-places.blogspot.com/2011/03/baron-empain-palace-cairo-egypt.html   

I couldn’t think what Abdul was referring to.

“No pictures of Mubarak!” says Peter.  That’s right, Mubarak’s face used to be on hoardings all along the airport road.  I wonder what other changes we will notice during our trip. 

 I can feel how much cooler it is in Cairo than Luxor – by cooler I mean 27 degrees instead of the 40 in Luxor.

We drive through Ramsis, Tahrir, over the Kasr e Nile bridge where the Egyptian revolution first began.  T shirts saying “Free Egypt” “I love Egypt” “25^th January, Tahrir Square” line the roadside railings.  All seems peaceful now.

We arrive at the Sheraton and check in.  It will be 45 minutes before the room is ready so we decide to head straight out to our first appointment of the trip, to the Mamluk Glass Factory next to Qaitbay Mosque.  We were to phone Kamal before we set off which we did.  He wasn’t in the factory so we would pick him up on the way.  Off we set with Abdul.  The traffic in Cairo is notorious.  There is an order to the road system but also what appears to be absolute chaos – cars cutting across each other within centimetres to spare.  It can be quite a terrifying experience for first timers in Cairo.  At first the constant beeping of horns can be interpreted as a ‘telling off’ – much like we’d use car horns at home.  However, the horns are a subsystem – a language between drivers (and pedestrians) that interspersed with various hand gestures is completely understood here.

We pull off the freeway into a short dusty side street along Cairo’s Eastern Cemetery or City of the Dead.  (The cemeteries are yet another story for another day).  Peter phones Kamal and we meet him at the bottom of the street and then proceed onto the factory.

I think the word factory conjures up an up an image of a large industrial unit.  The Mamluk Glass Factory is a small enterprise but none the less a very productive one.  Kamal takes us in.  The walls are lined with shelves full of various glass products – not an inch of space goes unused. 

The factory is no longer than 10 metres and about 3 metres wide.  At the bottom is a furnace and one of the glass blowers at work.  However much I had been relishing the cooler temperatures of Cairo it all went to pot upon entering the factory – the heat from the furnace was incredible.  The worker had just two electric fans to keep the temperature bearable!  We watch with great interest at the skill deployed to produce a glass jar with a water spout with a twist of glass relief around its body.  I‘m invited by the craftsman to have a go at blowing some glass. I’m handed the metal tube that has a blob of molten glass on the end.  As I blow into the tube it is turned for me (it weighs a ton!) and a large glass balloon is produced.  Certainly nothing usable so it is knocked off the end of the tube to be melted back and used again.   By now my face felt like it had melted.  Any benefit of the cooler Cairo climate and Abdul’s air conditioned car was now truly lost!

Kamal invites us to drink tea outside.  Kamal tells us that this is the fifth generation of his family to have this factory.  A picture of his father blowing glass hangs over the factory entrance.  Kamal brings us a selection of books and magazines that have articles about the glass factory – one of only five in Cairo.  As we drink tea and look through the books I read an article that says Kamal is an engineer.  I point out this section of the article to him and he says he works as an engineer in the morning and comes to the factory in the afternoon.  He says it needs his generation to maintain the family tradition or the business and the skills will be lost forever.  All of his family work in the workshop – all also university educated.  The females in the family sort the glass and decorate the finished pieces and the men are involved in all other aspects of the business.  I ask Kamal where the glass comes from.  He tells us it comes from the Zabaleen.  Zabaleen translates directly as Garbage Collectors.  They are a large Christian community living in the foothills of Maqattam in Cairo.  They go out into the city collecting all manner of garbage which they bring back to their homes and sort by type, ready to sell to recycling companies.  Peter and I visited the church of St Samaan on a previous trip to Cairo and drove through the area where the Zabaleen live.  We can talk about this another time as this visit left quite an impact on us.  You can find out more information about this fascinating community through Google and also a very good (award winning) docu/film called Garbage Dreams.  http://www.garbagedreams.com/

A little later we are joined by Kamal’s father Hassan, a fine figure of a man with an imposing presence.  We shake hands and Mr Hassan offers us further drinks.  Someone goes to fetch coca cola. 

Peter talks about the Garagos pottery and how the business has been affected by lack of tourism.  Kamal tells us that since the uprising the government say that the glass factory isn’t in a suitable place for tourists to come.  He says this isn’t the case.  The area is safe and being one if Cairo’s oldest areas should be considered as a key tourist destination.  The Qaitbey Mosque itself is 700 years old.  They feel that the government don’t support local businesses such as this even though they are traditional trades in danger of being lost.

We have another look around at the products.  There is such a good range here and we tell Kamal that we would initially be interested in purchasing some hand blown Christmas decorations.  We don’t discuss price here.  It’s not the time or place.  We ask to purchase one of the glass hand painted Christmas decorations but Kamal will accept no money – we must take it as a gift.  .

We say our goodbyes and Abdul takes us back to the hotel to finish checking in and to freshen up. We are given a room on the 17^th floor of the Sheraton.  We have amazing views over the city and the river Nile.  The island (Gezira) sits in the middle of the Nile.  Directly in front of us Cairo Tower located on Gezira seems like a stones throw away.  I can’t venture very far out onto the balcony before vertigo begins to set in.  But I can’t resist straining my body from the patio doors to look at the amazing view below and across Cairo.  The noise of the beeping is relentless but fades down to background noise after a period of adjustment.

We freshen up and go out to Abdul who is still waiting for us.  He is one of the taxi drivers for the Sheraton and business is bad so we know he will still be available for us.  We drive over onto the island and head over to leafy Zamalek.  This is home to some of the foreign embassy’s and also several private schools.  Zamalek is like a little oasis compared to the rest of the city and the wealth of it’s residents is quite apparent.  Tree lined streets and high walls provide privacy to large colonial style villas, a legacy of the French and British occupations.  http://www.touregypt.net/featurestories/zamalek.htm

We head off first to a great bookshop called Diwan.  It’s a must visit shop when I’m in Cairo and have picked up a good selection of Naguib Mafhouz books and Yousef Chahine films.  We also search for a couple of the books that Kamal showed us earlier as one of them although in Arabic had a feature on the Garagos pottery.  We don’t find the books we want but staff suggest we try the Cairo University bookshop – which we do.  We find at least one of the books on our list so go away happy.  We then go in search of a gallery called Alef.  I came across this gallery on the internet before we left home and it sells a fantastic selection of handcrafted items – clearly to the wealthy residents on Zamalek!  I don’t have the address with me and after driving around for a while we decide to leave it for another day.

We invite Abdul to join us for ice cream at Groppi’s in downtown Cairo.  After Peter and I go married three and a half years ago in Cairo we went to celebrate in Groppi’s before leaving for Alexandria for our honeymoon.  Abdul was with us then.  He had been an absolute star in driving us everywhere we needed to go to get permissions from one ministry, official stamps from another.  Also driving us out to Heliopolis to get permissions from the office of theCoptic Catholic Patriarch. We hadn’t know at the time we needed this permission as we already had permissions from the priest in Garagos and the priest in Luxor – what a palaver that was!  It delayed the marriage (ceremony is the wrong word) for a day but we got there in the end with the help of Abdul.

http://www.alshindagah.com/Shindagah78/eng/Groppi.htm

 Here the three of us were - sitting in Groppi’s three and a half years later.  We all asked the question – where does time go?  We had ice cream and drank tea.  Abdul phoned his wife and son Mohammed and put them on to speak to us.  Again we agreed time goes by so quickly.  Abdul invites to his house for dinner.  It is my birthday today and we had planned to eat out in a nice restaurant downtown but it seemed rude to refuse.  We accepted the invitation an after trying a few more bookshops we set off to Abduls home the other side of Imbaba in Warak.

Imbaba had seen violent clashes between Muslims and Christians in May this year.  http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-middle-east-13325448 Imbaba and Warak are local neighbourhoods (as Peter describes it).  He means areas where tourists don’t usually venture.  I vaguely recollect this journey from last time we came to have dinner with Abdul and his family.  I wouldn’t feel comfortable taking photographs in this kind of area – it seems almost voyeuristic and I’m sure wouldn’t be well received by the local people.

We turn into some tight alleyways, go past small shops that sell items ranging from spare parts for cars to live poultry.  We arrive at Abdul’s flat and are greeted by his wife.  I remember her telling me that she is 'quite high up' in the Ministry of Agriculture.  This is apparent upon entering the flat which is clearly the home of Cairo’s middle classes.  Their sons Mohammed and Mahmoud aren’t at home – they are currently working but Mohammed phones and tells us he hopes to catch up with us before we leave Cairo.  We are invited to the dining table where plates upon plates of food are brought to the table.  A large plate of roasted duck, another of roasted chicken.  A large tourine of soup, a bowl of rice, a plate of bread, a dish of sliced,roasted potatoes in a tomato sauce.

I struggle to eat in the heat.  My appetite decreases when it’s hot and we’ve just been to Groppi’s for ice cream.  I am given a bowl of soup, a duck leg and a chicken breast.  Shortly after my plate is piled high with rice, potatoes and bread and yet more meat.  I have to keep insisting that I can’t eat any more but we make a good attempt at it.

We retire to the living room and fresh mangoes are brought in with tea.  Again discussions are had about the revolution and how the country is in a terrible state. (The conversation is in Arabic and Peter translates). Mahmoud has put in an application for a visa to America. The cost of living has increased and it’s no longer safe to walk the streets. It seems that it is everyone’s dream to leave Egypt and it’s current chaotic state.  After a while we make a move.  It’s 9.00pm and Abdul drives us back to the Sheraton.  As we go through Imbaba we see a fight outside one of the coffee shops and we also clearly see a man wielding a knife.  It’s a bit of a shock to see this first hand but this is now normal as there is no longer any significant police presence on the steets.

We arrive back at the hotel and ask Abdul to wait whilst Peter goes to fetch some small gifts we brought over for them – an England mug for the men and some Belgian chocolates for Mrs Abdul.  Small gifts but with so many family to buy for we have to prioritise.

I stay in the hotel room whilst Peter takes the gifts out to Abdul and also pay him for his driving services for the day.  When Peter comes back he has an odd look on his face.  I ask him what is wrong and he tells me he is a bit taken aback.  I ask him at what and he tells me his is shocked at the amount of money Abdul has charged for driving us for the day.  We know what the going rate is.  Peter has colleagues who arrange drivers for tourists through travel agencies and also friends who own tourists cars.  A days hire for a car in Cairo is about 150le.  We had had Abdul for around 12 hours so counted that as 2 days so expected him to charge around 300le.  He had asked Peter for 600le.  Peter had paid it but he felt that Abdul had taken advantage of us.  We had used Abdul on 2 previous trips to Cairo and money had never been a problem. – his prices had always been fair. After a bit of deliberation we decided to use Abdul the following day but to see what his costs would be.

We sit inside the suite with the balcony door open.  It’s 10.00pm and Cairo hasn’t even begun to come alive yet.  The traffic is still incessant (and the beeping of the cars) and there is a hive of activity along the water front.  Café’s are heaving and steams of people stand along the railings on the bridges that cross the Nile.  Tourist boats sail up and down and the next shift of street sellers pedal their wares.  I read in the in-flight magazine with Egyptair that Cairo is ranked number 3 in the world in the table of 24 hour cities!  I’m exhausted! 

 

 

Well it’s now Friday morning.  It’s 7.30am and I’m sitting on the hotel balcony overlooking the view that never fails to take my breath away. 

I think today will be a relaxing day.  I’ll sit by the pool, take some photo’s or video’s and maybe pen a bit more for the blog.  Peter is going to Egyptair and also to the Vodafone shop to buy a wireless dongle to save us making the trip to Snack Time to upload the blog.  Later we’ll pack for Cairo.

So yesterdays plans are moved over to today.  After a lovely breakfast in the hotel, Peter goes to do some errands – he was also going to pick up my Chinese parasol from the flat in Luxor – I'm not great in the heat and it's hot hot hot!  I stay within the confines of the hotel.  The temperature is more than I can bare and the swimming pool is calling me.  For now I’m sitting in the shade of the restaurant terrace trying to update the blog – a summary of our visit so far.  This blogging is really hard work – I wish writing would come to me more easily.  I think when I get back home I’m going to invest in some voice recognition software as this may be a little better.  Besides, as a touch typist I’m finding working a netbook an absolute nightmare!

It doesn’t take long before the battery on the netbook dies.  It’s also way too hot for me even in the shade of the terrace so I take refuge back in the hotel room under the air conditioning.  

Peter and I had planned to go to Snack Time at lunch time as they serve a nice Panini and provide free wifi.  I would usually forget all of the usual day to day trappings of technology whilst away from home but I wanted to upload some of the blog as it was written. 

I tried to phone Peter from the hotel but couldn’t get a signal.  I decided to start walking with the hope that I would pick up a signal along the way.  What started out as a short trip to Snack Time ended as something else.  As I ventured forth out of the hotel I was faced with the onslaught of “Tax Tax” “Caleche Caleche” (the taxi and horse and carriage drivers).  Whereas before a short dismissive hand wave would easily impress upon them that I wasn’t interested – this didn’t seem to be working now.   The carriage drivers were particularly persistent, one following me down the street and eventually making quite offensive comments.  I have never experienced this in Luxor before – the direct offensiveness that is.  I’m told later that the drop in police presence has been a green light to some carriage drivers (and felucca men) to behave as they wish.    I understand the desperation for business but being offensive to tourists isn’t going to help increase trade!

My god I had forgotten how hard that walk is in the midday heat!  By the time I get to Luxor Temple I was dying of thirst and the heat was getting to me.  I sought refuge in the shade of a tree at Hamees café.  I ordered a water and checked for a signal on my phone again.  No signal, but I also remembered that I didn’t have any money with me either.  I asked one of the staff if they had a phone I could borrow.  I was told that if it was to an Egyptian phone – yes, if it was to an English phone – no.  Well Peter’s phone is English. What a dilemma.  Peter doesn’t know where I am and I can’t contact him and I can’t pay for the water.  I checked my phone for a signal again – nothing.  I checked my phone for any Egyptian phone numbers and had one called Peter Garagos – I thought this may be an old phone of his mother’s so was prepared to ask for any willing translators to help explain my dilemma and to ask them to phone Peter.  Luckily Peter answered!  He was on his way.

We made it to Snack Time.  Nice and air conditioned, free wifi and a nice view of Luxor Temple and the Theban Mountains.  4 hours and a stream of snacks later we left the café – first blog uploaded and friends invited to Facebook. 

 

We decided to take a stroll through the Souk and call  in and see a couple of friends.  Firstly to one of my favourite shops – Aladdins Cave –and Aladdins Cave it truly is.  This is one of several shops owned by the Uncle of Bob's Uncle, Badir.  He has had this shop in his family for several generations.  The shop houses a truly eclectic mix of copperware, mother of pearl pieces such as chess boards, jewellery boxes and mirrors.  It has a selection of Pharaonic style pieces, a wide range of rugs at a price to suit every pocket and best of all piles of antique pieces such as old copper coffee pots – I have bought 2 of these on previous visits. Badir gives us an update on the attack on the Saudi Arabian Embassy.  Some Egyptians had recently travelled to Mecca for the Haaj.  They returned saying that they had been treated badly by the Saudi Arabians, luggage being lost, they had been kept in areas that weren’t nice. (I’m trying to repeat this verbatim).  Once back in Cairo they decided to show their dissatisfaction at the way they had been treated by attacking the Saudi Arabian Embassy.  He tells us that a volcano has erupted since the revolution – now everyone protests about everything!

 

 

A couple of minutes later we come across another old friend Yousef.  Again we are invited into the back of his shop to drink tea.  Peter has known Yousef for many years – like Peter a science teacher but also with several shops selling cotton products.  He works in the morning at the school and comes to the shop in the Souk in the afternoon.

Now if ever there was an engaging story teller – Yousef is the man.  He sits cross legged on the floor in front of us and begins to tell us of his concerns for his country and particularly for the Coptic Christians who apparently are leaving the country in droves since the revolution began.  He tells us that 300,000 have left the country so far through fear of continuing persecution.  I suspect this number is greatly exaggerated but get the sense that this is what he truly believes.  He tells us that Luxor has become lawless – no police, no army but most Egyptians he knows are carrying guns.  Politics and religion was discussed for some time.  Yousef portrayed a sense of hopelessness for the country.  Peter and I managed to steer the conversation away to less contentious subjects.  Among these topics were parapsychology, undiscovered pharaonic treasures, Yousef’s  idea to import English chocolate into Egypt and solar energy.  I would struggle to capture even the essence of the conversation we had with Yousef.  He said himself that people would either consider him very intelligent – or crazy.  I would suggest both – not one or the other.  He harbours a strong belief in a number of conspiracy theories, but however incredulous they may sound – we may go back in years to come and tell Yousef – he was right!  Another hour and half had gone by.  We said our goodbyes and said we would see him the following week. 

We decided to go to Egyptair to see if we could change our return flight from Cairo to an earlier one.  On our way there we came across Bob outside his jewellery shop.  Bob invited us into the shop, introduced me to his father and offered us a drink – we asked for and received coca cola.  Peter and Bob talked about computers and mobile phones.  Bob had bought a top of the range laptop in Cairo for a very good price and shared the number of the shop with Peter.  Peter isn't currently interested in buying a new laptop but I think the conversation was more about sharing contacts, building the network on which all Egyptians exist.  

 One of the children from the family came in with a piece of freshly baked bread from the church, which was shared amongst us.  Bob invited Peter and I to go to a new coffee shop in Karnak which we did.  Before we left Bob’s father presented me with a beautiful pair of silver earrings with turquoise stones and Peter with a silver ankh and chain.  We were quite overwhelmed by this generosity.  Bob’s father said it was a gift to first a first time visitor to his shop, though we suspect that not all first time visitors are treated so generously.

Bob drove us to the coffee shop.  We drank mint tea, Bob smoked shisha.  Bob tells us that business in the shop in Luxor is so bad he has rented a shop in Hurghada that will sell leather goods.  He will leave Luxor on Saturday morning after dropping us the airport for our Cairo trip.  The rental on hotel shops is very expensive and nothing is guaranteed but he feels he needs to take the chance. 

Before we knew it, it was midnight and time to go back to the hotel.  Maybe we’ll get to Egyptair tomorrow?

Today more people come to say hello. Conversations drift towards the uprising.  Many feel despondent and feel the country has no leadership and is becoming more and more lawless.  “Egyptians don’t know what freedom is – they see it as an excuse for bad behaviour and taking the law into their own hands”.

Peter’s mother and sister Margreet are preparing a special meal for us – one of their chickens and a variety of vegetables from the land. Sara and Susanna are a delight and entertain us with the usual antics of two and a half year olds.  

Throughout the day several members of the family come to us to express their concern about us going to Cairo at the weekend.  We had planned our trip to avoid being there on Friday when most protests take place. The week before we left for Luxor protestors had tried to tear down the security wall of the Israeli Embassy, resulting in the Israeli Ambassador leaving the country. We also heard this morning on one of the Egyptian news channels that there had been an attack on the Saudi Arabian Embassy in Cairo. However, we have a carefully planned trip and will travel by taxi instead of the metro.  We have made arrangements for Abdul to pick us up from the airport and be our driver throughout our visit.  Abdul was born and bred in Cairo, is an ex policeman and someone who knows the City like the back of his hand (or as much as anyone can).  We had spoken to Abdul and his son Mohamed before leaving the UK and they told us everything is OK in Cairo - the odd protest but these can be avoided if you have your bearings right. Despite our reassurances, little can be said to put Peter's family's minds at rest - I just hope they don't catch today's news.

We return to the hotel later that evening.  I had intentions to write some more on the blog but was too exhausted.  It will have to wait until tomorrow.

It’s Tuesday and we start the morning with a fantastic breakfast. We both start with a glass of kirkaday (hibiscus juice). Peter has meat, cheese and salad with a good helping of Egyptian fuul – fava beans flavoured with cumin, lemon juice and tomato puree. I have melon and pomegranate seeds followed by an omelette and tameya (falaffal) with tahini. This is all washed down by copious amounts of tea!

We spend the day by the pool – well I did. Peter was busy doing errands and going to the bank. However, Peter can't usually walk very far in Luxor without being greeting by friends, family, acquaintances. I know when he says he'll be an hour he'll be several.

Anyway, it’s nice to spend a bit of time shaking off work and trying to acclimatise to the heat. It’s 38 degrees today – way too hot for my liking. I lay under the shade of a parasol and swim in the pool to keep refreshed. Every one sitting by the pool is able to get a lounger in the immediate area – nobody has to locate themselves further down on the pontoon. Nobody has to queue for a drink at the pool bar. The pool staff are very attentive, ensuring that those of us who don’t want to be in the sun are protected by the parasol at all times. The numbers are clearly low in the hotel – and if it’s low here it will be low everywhere in Luxor. This is very sad to see.

Later that evening Peter’s father comes for us with Andre – the brother of Ehab (Peter’s brother in law) to take us to Garagos. We have packed enough for a few days and our hand luggage bags are filled with colouring books and bottles of whiskey – the latter always welcomed and shared generously at family get togethers.

We head out of Luxor along the dusty airport road which is lined with flowering hedges of bourganvillea and jasmine. Peter’s father and Andre give updates on events in the village. We turn off the airport road and start following a road that takes us North of Luxor. We cross several small branches of the Nile which are encased in rows of date palms – many of them have self- seeded in the shallow edges of the canals themselves. Every so often we’ll hear the ‘phutting’ of mechanical water pumps, forcing water from the canals into the irrigation channels that are etched like veins across the agricultural land. The further we get out of Luxor, the narrower the road gets. Egyptian drivers whether in rural backwaters of upper Egypt or the metropolis that is Cairo have a ‘need to speed’. Andre slows down only to skirt around a pot hole or negotiate passing another car or the occasional dok dok (a cross between a scooter and a Reliant Robin).

We pass mud brick houses, very simple dwellings. People of all ages sit clustered together in the shade. Some straight on the bare earth outside – some sit on the traditional palm seating which often doubles up as a bed. On some nights it’s far more comfortable to sleep outside. Washing hangs from rope washing lines strung between date palms and dogs bark in the distance.

After crossing the train track we arrive in Garagos. As we drive into the village we pass rows of local shops – small shacks providing a range of essential items and services. Although only 25km from Luxor many of the villagers haven’t travelled outside of Garagos – especially the women. Local produce is grown on the extensive farm land in and surrounding the village and most families will keep livestock such as chickens. We approached the family home down a network of tight alleyways. The road once ashfelt is now encrusted in years worth of dust and resembles a dirt track rather than a modern road.

As soon as we arrive at the house we are deluged with a huge wave of family members coming to the house to say hello. Huge smiles, beautiful and handsome faces with warm, welcoming handshakes (four kisses from closer family members). I never fail to be taken by the way children come to the house and shake the hand of everyone like little grown ups. The mother of Nasira brought 2 dozen eggs – I’m told it’s traditional to bring gifts like this for visitors who have travelled from afar. Peter tells me afterwards that the mother of Nasira is very old – she had walked from her house with the eggs but couldn’t make it up the step into the house. The lady is referred to as the Mother of Nasira as a mark of respect – Nasira being the name of her eldest son. I’m not sure at what point a woman is no longer referred to her by her name – I’ll ask Peter later.

Soon after we arrive Margreet arrives with the 2 year old twins Sara and Susanna. They have grown so much in 9 months. It isn’t long before we are asked if we are hungry. Peter’s mother has been preparing a meal for us and regardless of whether we are hungry or not we must accept the offer of hospitality and eat.

Although a large house with good ventilation, it isn’t long before the heat exaggerates my existing exhaustion. We are given a room on the first floor and after a shower we retire for the night. The heat of the night was tortuous. The ceiling fan seemed to recirculate hot air and cockerels across the village seemed to have no concept of night or day. Time was marked at 4.30am by the voice of the muezzin calling to prayer from the minaret in the mosque less than 20 yards away. I think of the air conditioning in our hotel room.

I love being back in Garagos. Nonetheless we may need to schedule our visits in winter when the evenings are cooler.