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.

 

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.

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.