the train to Aswan, Ramses II, horses and hashish

After moving out of my room in Cairo, I had several hours before my night train to Aswan. I spent the time hanging out with a guy named Marcus from Australia who told me that he took 14 months off of work to travel last year. If anyone can travel for 14 months in a year, it’s the Aussies…I also spent some time talking with a family of four (kids 9 & 11) from Denver who were exactly 6 months into a one year trip around the world. Really interesting people, and their kids are seeing more before puberty than most people do in a lifetime.

Giza train station

Magdy drove me to the train station in Giza, but due to the high-speed, bad-road jam of the previous day, his car was sick and died just as we crossed the Nile into Giza. Magdy flagged another cab and threw my big bag into the back. An argument between them with many incarnations of “Allah will punish you” ensued – apparently over the “local” price that Magdy demanded to deliver me to my train. My driver tried to cut his losses by pulling over for two large women – telling me to put my bag on the roof of the car. With nothing but gravity to keep it there, I firmly declined, and prepared to get out and find my way through the dark and chaos. The driver relented while saying many bad things to me (I think), and a few minutes later, I was at the station.

GPS - snaking down the Nile

I shared my sleeper car cabin with an Egyptian tour guide named Abdul. He was taking a group from Hong Kong to Aswan, and explained that he could make a lot of money there selling add-ons, such as Felucca rides, and side tours. My driver Magdy had foreshadowed the conversation to come when he reversed his “I love Obama” from the previous day to “Obama no good” due to the news of the 30,000 additional troops being sent to Afghanistan. Abdul was fine for the first hour, but when the name “George W Bush” came out of his mouth, if was followed by an hour of American trash talk, conspiracy theories (9/11 was financed by America, H1N1 was created in an American laboratory, Kennedy was assassinated by the government, etc.). He may be right or wrong, but because I know he doesn’t know, it was just tiresome. I decided to read a book.

feluccas in front of Elephantine Island

the souk (market) in Aswan

Aswan is a beautiful and (relatively) peaceful change from Cairo. The Nile is narrow, and felucca boats and cruise ships dodge each other going up and down the Nile and back and forth to Elephantine Island. The Corniche is the street and walkway along the river, and if not for the constant offers of felucca and horse carriage rides, it would be really pleasant.

Ramses II

After debating the time and expense, I joined the 3am convoy of mini-vans and busses to Abu Simbel where the southern temple of Ramses II is located. The temple was moved to its present location in the 1960’s when the dam that created Lake Nasser was built, as the original location is now underwater. They really did a masterful job, and the temple and its iconic statues are as impressive and I could imagine.

Ramses II temple, Abu Simbel

The inside of the temple is even more impressive, with colorfully painted carvings and hieroglyphics throughout several chambers. This place was buried under the sand until it was rediscovered in the 1800's. The names and dates scratched into the statues shows that graffiti isn't just a modern thing, and in fact my book tells me that the defacing goes all the way back to the Greeks.

150 y/o graffiti

Our mini-van decided it was a one-way trip, so after a lot of sitting in the sun, our driver herded us on to an empty tour bus, and after a short delay, we were on our way. What I’ve found here is that things don’t always go as planned, but I have yet to be stranded or abandoned. We’ll see if the boat that I’ll be taking down the Nile over the next three days suffers from the same fate as my car in Cairo or the van in Abu Simbel. I don’t see any lifeboats attached…

Entrance to the Aswan souk & a horse that needs more food

My last story from Aswan involves another horse and another bad boy who owns the horse. I went down to walk along the Corniche last night to grab a few pictures as the sun was going down. I had the usual hassles by boatmen for felucca rides, but was able to ignore most of them. After a couple of hours though, I was exhausted from the banter, and sought a quiet bench to relax and watch the scene. After just a couple of minutes, I was set upon by a horse carriage driver. "What you want? You want beer? You want hashish? Nubian hashish is very good. I take you for ride 10 pounds ($2) - no more - no backshish." I said no no no, but after considering walking back through the gauntlet of felucca captains, I said - okay - take me to my hotel.

feluccas at sunset in Aswan

I got into the buggy after checking to be sure that I wasn't going to be abusing one of the lame and emaciated horses that I had seen. I had scolded a driver earlier for the poor condition of his horse, but this one looked healthy. So I get in, and off we go - in the wrong direction. He's whipping this poor horse, and I'm asking him to stop, but we keep going on south while my hotel is in the north end of the city. He pulls off the main highway and right and right into a seriously dark alley. I didn't feel in danger, but when he stopped and got off, I was not exactly comfortable either. He disappears into the darkness, coming back 5 minutes later with a big lit joint in his mouth. Obviously, he needed to recharge before he could take me all the way to my hotel.

bad Nubian hashish smoking buggy driver

Eventually, we got close to my hotel, and I told him to pull over. As I got out, I gave him 10 pounds (not that he deserved it, but I wasn't going to make a scene for $2). He then demanded 20 pounds, saying that 10 pounds was one way and we went two ways. After explaining to him that one of those ways was his idea he got pretty agitated. I said I would get the police to sort it out, and the next thing I knew, he was whipping his poor horse back into action.

I vow to stay away from horses (& camels and small boats and random taxis) for the rest of my trip. The scoundrels that run them seem to be the worst (or maybe just the most desperate) that Egypt has to offer.

After getting back to my hotel, I went for dinner at my favorite nearby restaurant. They remembered me from before, and treated me very well. I needed that.