Blog Feedback From John

I have never met or spoken to John.   A friend (two or three times removed) of a travel friend that I met at the Bamboo Nest in northern Thailand –

Feedback and support make the blogging effort worthwhile.

An excerpt from one of our email conversations…..

 

Byron,

Need to revise my take on your posts…not just heroin…..more like f’n BLACK TAR heroin for travel junkies-check for your posts twice a day-like a junkie waiting for my next fix-addicted to the rich details-from the cracked windshield to the facial features of the innkeeper-even without photos-the imagination fills in the voids and creates images to go with your comments-are you a historian or anthropologist? You blog is light years better than just about any other travel blog I regularly follow-once again you made me laugh with your Canadian comments……………..

Kom Ombo. 05/12/16 8:00 AM.

Kom Ombo

A rose at 4 AM and then stayed awake to watch the dawn of the day. Went top deck just as dawn was breaking and met the Australian solo traveler, Phil, that I have been eating with at my assigned dining room table.

After several hours of cruising down the Nile we stopped at Kom Umbo to tour the temple there. It is not Egyptian as much Greco- Roman. This is the temple where on the way upriver several days ago the ship arrived late and I was unable to purchase an entrance ticket.

Skirted a few touts, bearable touting, as I walked around the temple which had been protected for centuries by silt deposited by the flooding of the Nile. The temple is unique in that it honors and worships two separate gods – one a crocodile god, the other a falcon god. Crocodiles were very prevalent in this stretch of the Nile prior to the building of the Aswan High Dam.

Departed 10:00 AM

Wiki says:

The Temple of Kom Ombo is an unusual double temple in the town of Kom Ombo in Aswan Governorate, Upper Egypt. It was constructed during the Ptolemaic dynasty, 180–47 BC.[1] Some additions to it were later made during the Roman period. The building is unique because its ‘double’ design meant that there were courts, halls, sanctuaries and rooms duplicated for two sets of gods.[2] The southern half of the temple was dedicated to the crocodile god Sobek, god of fertility and creator of the world with Hathor and Khonsu.[2] Meanwhile, the northern part of the temple was dedicated to the falcon god Haroeris, also known as Horus the Elder, along “with Tasenetnofret (the Good Sister, a special form of Hathor or Tefnet/Tefnut[3]) and Panebtawy (Lord of the Two Lands).”[2] The temple is atypical because everything is perfectly symmetrical along the main axis.

The temple was started by Ptolemy VI Philometor (180–145 BC) at the beginning of his reign and added to by other Ptolemys, most notably Ptolemy XIII (51–47 BC), who built the inner and outer hypostyle halls. The scene on the inner face of the rear wall of the temple is of particular interest, and “probably represents a set of surgical instruments.”[2]

Much of the temple has been destroyed by the Nile, earthquakes, and later builders who used its stones for other projects. Some of the reliefs inside were defaced by Copts who once used the temple as a church. All the temples buildings in the southern part of the plateau were cleared of debris and restored by Jacques de Morgan in 1893.[2]

A few of the three hundred crocodile mummies discovered in the vicinity are displayed in The Crocodile Museum.

 
Took some good pics at the temple. Now nearing 1500 photos taken. Having problems uploading pics to WordPress for inclusion in blog for two reasons : poor cell reception in remote stretches of the river, away from population centers and (2) the photos are not decompressed. Need jpeg conversion app to reduce a large pixel photo to a less dense resolution. Burning up data allotment uploading to WordPress server.

Onward, downriver. Next stop – where the girl in the blue dress that lost the pencil will be touting. We will see if she is there.

Police Escort Convoy

It’s A Convoy!! May 10, 2016

Yesterday, I awoke at 4:00 AM to a blaring beep beep beep which I thought was my phone alarm, which I had set so I could catch sunrise on the Nile.  It turned out to be the ship’s fire alarm. I stayed awake and read, as dawn breaks around 4:50.

Today, I rose at 2:15 AM

Met the “handler” or the man that got me off the ship and into the van to Abu Simbel and back on the boat 10 hours later.

Left in a van with 3 rows of seats, 3 people to a row to a security checkpoint south of town. There were 3 busses, about 15 vans and four cars in the police escorted convoy. saw the police trucks at departure. There were three or four vehicles escorting the convoy.
At 4:00 AM wet set off for Abu Simbel, 280 km air miles or 300 Km by road south of Aswan and only 40 km north of the border with Sudan, home of the Nubians. The Nubians are noticeably darker than the Egyptians of Cairo. When the Aswan High Dam (funded by the Soviet Unioi in 1958) was built between 1960-1970, the resulting Lake Nasser flooded the Nile homeland of 120,000 Nubians. 50,000 were located to Kom Umbo and provided housing and farming land irrigated by water from Lake Nasser. Numerous Nubians reside in the poverty stricken areas of south Aswan.

 

Wiki says, in part:
The Abu Simbel temples are two massive rock temples at Abu Simbel (أبو سمبل in Arabic), a village in Nubia, southern Egypt, near the border with Sudan. They are situated on the western bank of Lake Nasser, about 230 km southwest of Aswan (about 300 km by road). The complex is part of the UNESCO World Heritage Site known as the “Nubian Monuments,”[1] which run from Abu Simbel downriver to Philae (near Aswan). The twin temples were originally carved out of the mountainside during the reign of Pharaoh Ramesses II in the 13th century BC, as a lasting monument to himself and his queen Nefertari, to commemorate his victory at the Battle of Kadesh. Their huge external rock relief figures have become iconic.

 

The complex was relocated in its entirety in 1968, on an artificial hill made from a domed structure, high above the Aswan High Dam reservoir. The relocation of the temples was necessary to prevent their being submerged during the creation of Lake Nasser, the massive artificial water reservoir formed after the building of the Aswan High Dam on the Nile River.

notes made while riding in the van:

Good seat in van. Rear row. Lots of space behind seat – usually for luggage. Easy in out through rear double doors. Like small commuter airplane – tight no legroom.

70 mph, nice paved road but bouncy. Hard to type on iPad. Large steel electrical towers with 20 sets of wires are parallel to road.

Cannot see police escorts now. Saw leaving.

One way 3 hrs 15 min.

Dawn 4:50 sunshine by 6:00 AM.

Music, Bose earbuds, ipod, on shuffle for variety.

Drinking the OJ from Ali.

6:15 AM passed small oasis. All else sand rock no vegetation.

All aboard asleep except the driver.

Sign – speed limit 90 kph or 55 mph. Going 70 mph. Hard to type. Bouncy.

Barren, rocky sandy landscape dotted with small volcanic hills of decomposed basalt lava extrusions about 100-200 feet high. Heavily decomposed, they look like small cinder cones, with the weathered rock sloping at the angle of repose. From a distance of several miles, it looks like hundreds of pyramids dotting the landscape.

No plants. Nothing but rock and sand.

Ship’s box lunch nothing but read, jelly, sugar juice, bananna.  Ate the bananna.

 

Inet dx: All Good

5/11/16, 4PM

Think I now have it figured out.  I can now use my iPhone to access map apps, access the inet, skype, upload pics, download info, etc.  Again, without Moro’s assistanc and friendship, I would be fucked.

While at Abu Simbal today, 5/11/16, after a quick call to my unbelievable friend Moro, he bought me 7 gigs of data for my phone.  I am set.  Many thanks and three cheers for Moro.  Rah, rah, rah!!!

image

One of the problems was the settings on my phone (you need to be an Apple engineer to understand the functions of all the settings and their ramifications  (remember an iPhone is many times more powerful than the computers aboard the Apollo missions to the moon) but I still own AAPL stock and love their products.

I was using my iPhone as a hotspot to my iPad.  I would shoot pics with my new Sony mirrorless camera (25 megapixel per photo) then using a little dongle device, transfer the pics from the camera SIM card (64gb) to the iPad, which immediately recognized them as new and started uploading them, via the phone, to my web hosted icloud account.  The data allotment on my phone went to zero in no time transferring hundreds of high resolution pics to icloud.  When the data allotment went to zero on my Egyptian SIM card,  I was stranded with no inet and could not use the net to research solutions. I was forced to use the trickle inet at the hotel or on the ship.   I could not use skype, because that is via the web.  I was handcuffed.  I could make and receive calls in Egypt since phone usage (minutes) is different than data (mb or gb) and I had plenty of phone minutes, also thanks to Moro.  There is more to the story, but will leave it at that.

So, I am now revising all previous posts as time allows.  Adding pics, correcting errors, adding background info pulled from the web.

 

A similar thing happened last walkabout, which is why I received a $450.00 phone bill from tMobile after taking pics in Turkey and Nepal which were uploading to icloud via tMobile roaming – before I purchased a Nepali SIM card.

Such are the trials and tribulations of travel.

image

Yesterday I was at Abu Simbel, on Lake Nasser, 30 miles north of Sudan.  Have now traveled overland all of the Nile from Cairo to Abu Simbel.  Wiil finish the length of the Nile when I go with Moro to Alexandria next week.

For A Pencil

Yesterday, May 9,  2016, an hour and a half after the ship’s posted arrival time, midday at the midpoint of the cruise between Luxor and Aswan, we tied up at Edfu, on the West Bank. A short distance away is the Temple of Horus and I feel a little guilty for not disembarking and bargaining for a caleche for a short visit, as my guidebook says it is one of the best preserved ancient sites in Egypt.  I will visit on the downstream cruise in several days.

The Temple of Horus was begun in 237 BC by Ptolemy III and opened in 176 BC.

The boatload of tourists disembarked. I had a beer, took a shower and hit the top deck for a dip. It was midday, hot, and I had the upper deck to myself. I relaxed in the solitude of the 2.5 meter by 5 meter pool. By the time I had enough time in the pool, the tourists started returning to the boat. Alone on the top deck I watched over the starboard railing as caleche after caleche (horse carriage) dropped off tourists and they ran the gauntlet of touts that were selling water, tour books about Horus, cigarettes, etc. I watched and knew I had made the correct decision. When the boat stops on the ride back north in several days, I will give Temple of Horus a go, but without a guide.

I watched as a young tout, a girl about 9 years old, unkept and wearing long soiled blue dress, tried to get the attention of the stream of returning tourists.

image

Look closely and you can see the girl in the blue dress.

Focusing on her hand gestures, a rapid tapping of her mouth and ears, I suddenly realized she was deaf and mute. I thought about her future. This probably WAS her future – begging shoreside every time a cruise boat tied up and the tourists poured out for the one hour visit to the Temple of Horus and then returned to five star luxury for a buffet dinner.

A european couple from the cruise ship were returning from the temple tour and both politely refused her pleas to buy whatever it was she was selling – it looked like small purse sized packs of kleenex, an item I witnessed repeatedly being hawked on the train from Cairo (think TP). The couple came aboard and must have gone straight to their stateroom, for soon the man reappeared and disembarked down the gangplank.  He handed the girl a small black plastic bag.  She gestured for money……money for food….. by rubbing her fingers together and then repeatedly touching her mouth. I see the gestures frequently, often made by children or old women. The man refused her pleas and returned up the gangway. I watched as she opened the plastic bag fumbled with several pencils and then thumbed through a small paper book – it could have been a small coloring book or a blank note pad.

She ran up the riverbank steps, past the line of caleches and across the street. As she was running towards some buildings and past several men, a pencil dropped from the black bag. She darted for the pencil and then I watched, aghast, as a man in his 40’s pushed the little girl rudely aside with his forearm, snatched the pencil and quickly placed it in his gallibaya pocket. She did not protest; how could she?  Accepting her loss, she turned and ran away quickly, clutching the black bag to her chest.

La, la, la (No,no,no) I softly murmured.

 

 

Note: text revised 5/11/16, correcting several errors, now that I have access to inet.

Note: (originally written before I got the fast inet):

In this environment with little or no inet, it is extremely difficult to write the way I like, with historical info that is a copy/cut/paste from the web, researching additional supporting info, history, etc.  Also, being unable to upload pics greatly diminishes, in my opinion, my posts compared to earlier travel posts on fishbike53walkabout.blogspot.com.

I cannot even get my iPhone to download data via the cellular network. I believe, but have been unable to confirm, that it is related to my SIM card. I think I need to buy additional data download packet, but have been unable to find anyone that speaks technical english. I cannot connect to any browsers or access mapping capabilities with my phone and even if I could, the connection, I believe, would break constantly. Only once in two weeks have I seen a download speed >2 mbps and that was for 30 seconds at 2.2 mbps. Normal download speeds, using the speedtest app has been in the range of < 0.03 mbps. It is similar to attempting to fill a bathtub with a faucet that only drips!!!

La shoe qwah! May 9, 2016

 

It was dawn, before sunrise, and I was somewhere south of Luxor on the water. Within two minutes of awakening I was on the top deck. Only a few early rising Japanese were able to outdo me. Light was good so took some pics of life along the Nile before the intense midday sun washed out the contrast and color.

Yesterday, just after lunch, my first meal aboard, I noticed that the small room refer was not operational. Wanting to keep my beer, water, pomegranate and orange juice cold, I went to the desk. They would send someone up to assess the problem. Five minutes later there was a soft tap tap on my door. Upon opening the door, I encountered three staff members. One in a uniform, two in maintenance work clothes.

They entered and I immediately noticed that one of the maintenance workers had in his right hand a 16 ounce framing hammer!! A fucking framing hammer to fix a inoperable mini refrigerator? No ohm meter, no tool belt, no tool box or tool bag. Just a fucking framing hammer!!

They moved the cabinet out from the wall and checked the plug, exactly what I first checked. Then they stood and talked, all three, back and forth, for three or four minutes. I wish I understood arabic, as I could not fathom why it would take four minutes to discuss what to do next. Simple solution – replace it with one that is working from an empty room and take the broken one to the maintenance shop aboard for the ship’s electrician to diagnose and repair. What were they discussing for so long? Then they abruptly left, leaving the cabin door open. Not a word was said to me. I closed the cabin door and 10 minutes later they returned and replaced the refer with one that was working. Problem solved, just as I thought.

This morning after breakfast I moved the mini sofa around 90 degrees, opened the large window/door, took off my shirt, and sat down to watch the constantly changing landscape roll away before me, distant from the chaos of Luxor and the aggressive touts, the incessant cacophony of horns, constantly dodging cars, motorbikes, donkey carts and horse carriages. Away from the trash, horse shit and unending attempts to get my attention and money.

The verdant banks of the Nile were passing before me, the distant barren rocky hills, the soft breeze rustling the window coverings. I took out my maps and books on Egypt. Alone, quiet but for the soft splash of the bow wake and the occasional distant braying of a donkey ashore, peacefully secure in the cocoon of my room.

On walkabout. Time for some Mozart…….

We passed through two sets of locks at two dams that were less than 2 km apart. The lift was about 15 feet on the first lock and much less on the second. The locks were  enough for two cruise ships to raise in the same lift.

Went to the desk to talk about getting the inet connection. Another gent, french, was also inquiring. I listened as the desk attendant assured him that the signal was strong, fast, consistent. He asked in the desk attendant in english several times and in several ways. Always the answer was “Yes, does not stop. Very good. No problem.”

I signed the voucher for 90 Egyptian for 24 hours, handed over the iPad and the secret password was entered. I sat down and tested the connection with Speedtest, an invaluable app when traveling. Download speed was the best I have seen in Egypt, >2mbps. So, I sat down and started to upload. The connection broke. Back to the desk to get the secret password reentered. They will not give it to me. This time I was successful getting “All Aboard” uploaded, but it was slow – the speed had dropped. Then the connection broke. The frenchman was also already at the desk, asking for his money back. I was assured by the manager that once the ship stopped, the signal would be strong and secure. We shall see, but I would guess it will be about the same. Will try pics upload.

Such is much of Egypt. Thank goodness I met Moro – friendly, helpful, honest, a friend I can trust. His only agenda is friendship.

I reflected back on my two visits to Luang Prabang in the north of the Lao P.D.R. No pressure, fair prices, no haggling, safe, friendly. The world is a big place.

Last PM, after running the gauntlet from the Sarah to Venus, I lamented to Jimmy about the incessant barrage of touts. He taught me an arabic word, I’m not sure of the spelling in english, but phonetically it is “la shoe qwah.” It easily translates to “no”. It can be spoken softly, between friends or with increasing volume as the situation demands.

I tried using it on an incessant tout. “la shoe qwah.” He continued to harass me. Again, a little louder and more forcefully, “la shoe qwah.” He persisted. “LA SHOE QWAW.” He departed and I thought “I cannot forget this word.”

Now moored ashore, the time for “Good inet”, per the desk manager. Speedtesr report: .01 mbps down and .03 mbps up. Thought so..

I feel like a blog Nazi (vs. the soup Nazi on Seinfield).

“No pictures for you.”

“la shoe qwah.”
“la shoe qwah.”
“LA SHOE QWAH”

All Aboard

I realize that the people of Egypt are poor, and that I am rich, very rich to almost everyone I have interacted with during my sojourn in Egypt. I have been thankful every day. More thoughts about poverty in Egypt in a blog to come, inshallah.

Upon boarding the Princess Sarah (rated a “luxury” cruise ship, the highest class on the Nile) I was greeted by a man I will call Mohamed. He was the man that booked the cruise for Abdoul, the owner at the Venus Hotel. I surrendered my passport at the front desk for photocopying and looked around. Not a 5 star by western standards, but by Egyptian standards. There are 95 passengers aboard.

My backpack (left the daysack at Venus with all the unneeded crap) was on the floor at the front desk. After stowing my passport, I intentionally reached as though I was going to carry the backpack to my room – just to watch the porter jump at the thought of not getting his tip. I chuckled to myself at how swiftly he jumped. “I just be uh toyin’ with ya, son.”

The backpack was heavier than I planned, since I brought along my own water and vodka, being a spendthrift and refusing to pay $1.60 for a bottle of water or $4.50 a drink aboard when I can have Jimmy or Ali at Venus buy water in a shop for $0.40, and then I can give them $0.50 baksheesh and everyone comes out ahead. If I try to buy a bottle of water in the same store as Jimmy or Ali, I get charged $1.50 for the same water. A beer on the boat, $4.00. Jimmy bought me several for $1.20.

After my backpack was placed in my room, Mohamed said to make myself comfortable, settle in, refresh myself and then meet him in the bar. I smiled, nodded yes, said “Sure, OK.” I closed the door, gave the room a quick look around, put the ‘Do Not Disturb ‘ sign on the door handle and bolted straight for the stairs to the top deck via the door at the end of the hallway. I was not visible from the bar where Mohamed was sitting patiently, expectantly. Again, I chuckled to myself and wondered how long he would sit in the bar and wait for me and then how long it would take him to find me. I knew why he wanted to talk to me.

The Sarah was moored adjacent to another boat that was fast to the shore, so from the starboard side of the deck there was an unobstructed view of the entire river, the West Bank and the Valleys of the Queens and Kings. From the upper deck you can clearly see Theban Peak, the pyramid shaped mountain that is thought to have added a sacred relevance to the burial sites. The great pyramids of Giza preceded the burials at Valley of the Kings and doubtless there is a connection, as Theban looks almost perfectly symetrical in one dimention fromthe distance.

Past the small pool and rows of sun chairs, I moved to the starboard stern railing and watched the feluccas, ferries and other boats plying the mighty Nile at midday. The 62 year old man with a ponytail was playing hide and seek. Find me. I chuckled again at the thought of him looking for me and saying to himself “Where is that fucker?”

There was considerable flotsam, jetsam and paper trash in the river. When the river rises I bet it is full of crap since the banks of all of the interconnected irrigation canals are garbage dumps, like in the US before passage of the EPA and the environmental movement that began in the late 60’s/early 70’s. We take environmental stewardship pretty seriously now in the US but it was not always the case. Egypt is still too poor to care and many waterways are full or trash, especially around Giza.

After about 15 minutes Mohamed finally found me. We made eye contact. “The gig is up.” Sixty feet away he sat down at a table under an umbrella. I was tempted to do the same at the stern and see if he would come closer, but thought I had played with him enough. I walked over to him and stood, in the power position, as he sat. It was rude but I already knew what was coming.

“This tour, that temple, yada, yada, yada. English guide, 4 other Americans, a small personal group. $35.00. Not like the other large groups on the cruise (mostly Japanese. More about them later, as I have 5 days to dissect them and their behaviors) temples very ancient and beautiful.”

I asked how much a horse carriage would be if I did not want a guided tour. “Very expensive, very hard.” I told him I had been all over Luxor in carriages and that I would be just fine, thank you. He again said “very difficult.” I thought “perfect, that is what I like.” Realizing he was loosing the sale he said “If guided tour price is not good, I am willing……” I smiled and said “Maybe tomorrow, insha -allah.”

After several guided tours I found the unescorted wandering at the Dendura Temple most memorable.  It is difficult to concentrate and fully understand what the guide is saying while simultaneously focusing visually on the item being described. It takes too much brain power with a guide. Anyway, been there, done that. I will go solo. It will be more challenging and memorable if I do the “travelers dance” with another carriage driver, or just stay aboard and relax.

After lunch, I ran the gauntlet of touts the four short blocks from the Sarah east to Venus, crossing over the Avenue of Sphinxes, recently discovered and being excavated. The ancient road, 2.5 km long, connects the Temples of Luxor and Karnak (the second largest pharaonic monument in Egypt after the great pyramids of Giza). Buried for centuries, the avenue is being brought back life by demolishing the numerous buildings, homes, churches and sacred mosques that were built above the avenue, then removing hundreds of thousands of tons of rubble that has accumulated 30 feet deep above the avenue.  I have some great pics of the thousands of defaced sphinxes that line the entire route on both sides. It must have been spectacular.

At Venus, I had Ali buy me two 1.5 liter bottles of fresh squeezed orange juice for about $2.00 USD each. Ali is about 14 and the nephew of Abdoul. His father, the older brother of Abdoul, died; I did not ask how or when. Ali speaks very little english and is the general errand boy around the hotel for Abdoul. I then sent Jimmy, another relative of Abdoul, to buy ½ kilo of limes and lemons. Next on the list was canned carbonated pomegranate juice, but Ali did not understand. He followed as I walked to a store to show him what I wanted, 6 cans. If I bought them, $1.00 or 10 Egyptian pounds each. He can buy 3 cans for 10 pounds.

As we were walking back to Venus an argument broke out 10 feet from the door to Venus. An old man with a horse and carriage had parked on the street outside the photographer’s studio next to Venus. Rapidly the situation became heated, very heated. People stopped, gathered and stared. In less than a minute there were dozens people gawking in the crowd. I stood safely on the doorstep of Venus and watched. A woman got involved – she was an Orthodox Christian as was the studio owner. The old man, sitting in his buggy, was screaming and the studio owner was screaming. Soon ten people were screaming at each other. I wondered how it would turn out, but I had no idea about the issue or what was being said.

Abdoul, tall, confident, always smiling – the benefactor/mentor/surrogate father of Ali and the caretaker/friend/negotiator for abackpackandadaysack intervened like an experienced , mature statesman. Men tried to pull the horse away by the halter. The horse would not budge without the old man’s command from the reigns. I watched as Abdoul gently touched several men on the shoulder, the arm and once even on the butt. Slowly the yelling and tension subsided.. Abdoul continued his diplomatic efforts. Eventually, the conflict was resolved and the crowd dispersed.

I watched and thought about the United States. Someone would have thrown a punch, pulled a knife or fired a gun; but now all those involved in the argument were smiling.

I sat in the hotel lobby as Abdoul entered. “What was that about, please tell me.”

The Christian studio owner did not like having the horse parked on the doorstep of his studio, leaving piles of smelly horse shit and a big puddle of horse piss. The owners of the carriages never clean up the shit; none of them do anywhere in Luxor. You must constantly watch where you walk. This the reason everyone takes off their shoes upon entering a home in second and third world countries. Horse, donkey, sheep, goat, pig, chicken, dog shit is ubiquitos.

Wish I had the inet to up load pics. Even in remote areas of Nepal I could up load pics. Someday soon I will, inshallah.