This is such an awesome concept! Where can I buy one?

Manjusri

Mañjuśrī (文殊 Ch. Wen Shu, Jp. Monju) also written Manjushri, is a bodhisattva. A disciple of the historical Buddha Shakyamuni, he represents wisdom, intelligence and realization, and after Avalokitesvara is probably the most popular bodhisattva.

So why am I writing about him? It's because, while reading about him I discovered the following fascinating snippet: According to legend, Jurchen leader and founder of the Qing Dynasty Nurhaci believed himself to be a reincarnation of Manjusri. He thus banned the name "Jurchen" and renamed his race the Manchus.

The Lion Dance

I was at lunch at Lau Pa Sat this afternoon. Just as I was finishing up, there was a loud clanging of cymbals and banging of drums - the unmistakable sounds of a Lion Dance. I've been wanting to photograph a Lion Dance for the longest time, but am inevitably camera-less when I do see one. I was with Va, who, not being very familiar with the Chinese culture, asked me a million questions about it. Most of which I didn't have the answer to, shame on me. So I decided to come back to office and do my research.



Lion dance (舞獅; wǔshī) is a form of traditional dance in Chinese culture, in which performers mimic the lion's movements in a cloak of lion costume.

The lion is traditionally regarded as a guardian creature in Chinese culture. It is featured in Buddhist lore, being the mount of Manjusri (see next posting). The dance is symbolic of the people's prosperity and peace. Until the early twentieth century there existed professional lion dance troupes but the dance is now mostly performed by enthusiasts.

A long time ago in China, a fierce creature called the Nian appeared, which terrified the villagers. No one could fight the Nian, so in despair the villagers asked the lion to help. The lion attacked the Nian and injured it, so the Nian vowed to take revenge. When the Nian did return, the lion was unable to help, so the people constructed an imitation lion out of bamboo and cloth. Two men operated the lion while the rest of the people banged their pots and pans. When the Nian saw the lion and heard the commotion it ran away. The Villagers carried on with this tradition every year to scare away evil. Lion dance is thus seen as cleansing one's property or business of any evil or bad spirits for the forthcoming year.

The lion costume may be operated by a single dancer, who springs about while energetically moving and shaking the head and operating the jaws, or by a pair of dancers, forming the back and fore legs of the beast. The use of a pair of dancers is seen perfected in the exhibitions of Chinese acrobats, with the two dancers forming as a team the motions of a single animal as they move between platforms of varying elevations. The dance is traditionally accompanied by gongs, drums and firecrackers, representing the descent of good luck, and is usually performed in the Chinese New Year period.

The "Sleeping Lion" dance (Suai Si) consists of steps and movements that imitate a sleepy lion. The lion walks around and gets sleepy and stumbles waking himself up for a bit. Finally, the lion gives in to his sleepiness and falls asleep. Bothered by a flea, he then wakes up, scratches himself, falls back asleep, etc. These various movements continue until the lion finally wakes up for good and then grooms himself. Eventually, he realizes he is hungry and then the "lion eating" (choi chiang) dance begins.

Traditionally, the lion eats lettuce or bok choy but often times when the dance is performed in front of a crowd, the lion has been known to improvise and eat all sorts of things including baby strollers (!).

ph34r my l33t skillz

D00d, 1f u c4n r34d th15 kewl 5tuph, u r3411y d0n'7 n33d t0 xn0w t1h5.

Following up on my previous entry, here's something I noticed in today's 'State Times'.

I refer to the letter, 'The beauty and threat of Singlish' (ST, Feb 16), by Mr Tan Wei Min.

I agree with the writer that Singlish is not a separate language altogether. In its purest form, a separate language would have to share no common history with the language it is being compared to. An example would be English and Chinese; they are quite different in both script and speech with no overtly discernible common history.

Singlish clearly does not qualify under that description, for it is rooted in the tongues of Singapore's various communities, in more ways than one.

Describing it as a dialect of English, however, might not be entirely accurate either. It is possible to speak in Singlish without uttering a single word of English - for example, 'Wah lau eh, macham gu niang ah!'

This being the case, can it still be 'an alternative form of an established language'?

However, this is a secondary concern. Of greater significance is that there are actually two forms of code-switching - one possibly invidious, but the other probably of benefit. The invidious form of code-switching would be the effect of having an inadequate grasp of the English language. This form of code-switching, whether to Mandarin, Singlish or any other language, is probably a legitimate cause of concern and should impel us to teach better English or teach English better.

The other form of code-switching is, however, a blessing. No matter how proficient you are in
English, there will always be some things that are better said in Mandarin or Singlish. Perhaps the emotional equivalent is absent for the speaker or listener when it is said in English, or perhaps some aspect of meaning is lost in translation.

As an example of the former, ask any Singaporean who has been abroad for a long time and stumbles upon a group of people in a Starbucks outlet sounding the unmistakable strains of Singlish. The use of Singlish in such a context evokes an emotional response that, I daresay, would be absent if the group had been speaking perfect and flawless English replete with an accent that most Westerners would understand.

As for definitional meaning, while I am most comfortable with the English language, I feel that some things can be adequately expressed only in Singlish, and some things better said in Mandarin than English as well. I have often faltered when trying to describe an Ah Beng to a non-Singaporean. After all, a Beng is not a 'hooligan' or a 'delinquent' or a 'ruffian' or... You get my point.

This is not the consequence of not appreciating the richness of the Oxford English Dictionary but, rather, recognising the limitations inherent in any language and, for that matter, all
languages. After all, there are always moments in life that are truly ineffable.

Switching tongues out of necessity need not always be an urgent matter to deal with, and sometimes out of necessity we can but hold our tongues.

Wahlau eh! A lot of long words there. But anyway, it kind of serves to reinforce the beauty and expressiveness of Singlish which I pointed out earlier.

PS: The Singlish example in the letter means, "Wow! (or similar exclamation) the dude is like a lady!". Well, more or less. It seemed to fit the Aerosmith song pretty well.

The Art of the 'Lah'

I had the most ear-tearing-out-able experience today. Coming up with me in the lift this afternoon was a tall German guy. He was accompanied by a couple of his local Chinese colleagues, and in his attempt to fit in and sound cool and act like a localised expat, he was liberally peppering his speech with the word 'Lah'.

Ok, that's not too bad - people who know me know that I do it too; but it wasn't the fact that he was doing it, it was the way he did it that made me want to plug some parsley into my ears. Examples:

• I think lah, that he should ask for a transfer lah.
• Are you going up to the 18th floor also lah?

All this in a thick German accent. And two women he was with were lapping it up, undoubtedly impressed by how hard an 'angmoh' was trying to fit in here and speak Singlish (Singaporean English).

All of which irritated me (and my delicate ears) to no end. Having spent a substantial amount of time in this country and having worked (and played) with countless Singaporeans, I have done some small amount of research on the word 'Lah' (and its many cousins) and their usage in contemporary Singlish.

I present: "The Art of the 'Lah'".

Singlish is a curious mix of English, Malay, Mandarin Chinese and Hokkien. With an English base, it borrows words liberally from all of these languages, adds in the Chinese (lack of) grammar, all rendered in a lovely Singaporean twang. The beauty of Singlish lies in its brevity. When we would normally say, 'Have you eaten your meal yet?', locals here say, 'Got makan onnot?', resulting in a grand saving of 3 syllables. Or better still, 'Are you sure it is possible?' becomes an elegant 'Can meh?'.

Not going into details, there are 4 'words' which are most expressive. These (of which 'lah' is the most common by far) serve to add nuances and punctuation to the brief Singlish sentences.

• 'Lah' - a statement of assertion or encouragement. For example, "Ok lah, enough of standing downstairs, let's go upstairs!"
• 'Leh' - expressing irritation or impatience. For example, "I press press press, still the lift never come down leh!"
• 'Mah' - somewhat explanatory. For example, "Naturally the lift will not come down, you never pressed the correct button mah..."
• 'Meh' - an enquiry, or 'are you sure?'. For example, "Wrong button meh? You sure or not?"

All combined together, and with the addition of some nice interjections, they produce a beautiful symphony of pleasing sounds:

"Ok lah, enough of standing downstairs, let's go upstairs!". "Aiyoh, I press press press, still the lift never come down leh!". "Alamak, naturally the lift will not come down, you never pressed the correct button mah...". "Wrong button meh? You sure or not?"

Aah.

And that, my friends, is the Art of the 'Lah'.

Average Eye

My sis has her own blog up - you can see it here. 100 points for guessing the meaning behind the name :)

So much money, none for me...

My company just doubled its profits this year to over 2 billion dollars. Sadly I won't be seeing a cent of it. It sucks being on contract.

Egypt Reloaded

Jonathan visited Egypt over the last 2 weeks as well. He's compiled a large set of photographs and his own travelogue at his website. It's good reading.

The rest of his writings are very very funny as well. Especially TLG: The Latecomer's Guide.

My new project

Ever since I located this page: The most common Chinese characters, I've been planning to learn to read Chinese on my own. Most courses teach approximately 160 to 200 characters in a Level 1 course, over a period of about 2 months. That works out to 20-25 characters per week. And that's my target. By mid-April, I should be able to read (and understand!) the top 200 of these.

And by next week, I should cover the first 20:

1. 的 [de]
2. 一 [yī]
3. 是 [shì]
4. 不 [bù]
5. 了 [le]
6. 人 [rén]
7. 我 [wǒ]
8. 在 [zài]
9. 有 [yǒu]
10. 他 [tā]
11. 这 [zhè]
12. 中 [zhōng]
13. 大 [dà]
14. 来 [lái]
15. 上 [shàng]
16. 国 [guó]
17. 个 [gè]
18. 到 [dào]
19. 说 [shuō]
20. 们 [men]

Will keep you posted on my progress!

Q and A (aka Queer and Asinine)

Just finished reading Q and A by Vikas Swarup (of the Indian IFS, as we are frequently reminded) over the weekend. It was a quick read and quite unputdownable. Both, because it was such tripe that I couldn't wait to finish it and see if there was anything to salvage at the end. As it turned out, I'd wasted much money and much time that I could have spent on doing the dishes or re-stitching buttons on my shirts, or making paper boats out of the hundreds of newspapers we still have around the house.

Actually I must correct myself - it's eminently putdownable, as I will demonstrate. First the story.

Eighteen-year old Ram Mohammad Thomas (oh dear), an illiterate waiter in Asia's biggest slum in Mumbai wins the top prize of Rs. 1 billion on W3B - Who Will Win a Billion but is framed for cheating by the show's producers.

Authored by IFS officer Vikas Swarup, 'Q and A' is told in 12 chapters as Ram pleads his case as to how a lifetime of experience led to his miraculous win. In each chapter, Ram relates a slice of his amazing life that gave him wisdom - or the luck - to answer the questions.

Ok, the concept is so ridiculously far fetched, but I'd still have let that pass had the individual stories (12 of them, one for each question) been of any merit. The anecdotes don't flow. They are not related in any way in time and space, so the reader tends to get confused as to how old the characters are at each point. Because of this you can't relate to the Ram and Salim. Then the whole gimmick of introducing popular Indian personalities into the story, albeit with thinly veiled names (such as Sachin Malvankar, India's top cricketer) is childish and patronising. It also displays a lack of imagination. And what's with the gay theme pervading the book?

And the revelation at the end - "I am Gudiya!" is downright predictable and... words fail me.

In my opinion, he could have written a better book, had he linked the individual stories better using time and place better, and not a game show as the common thread. Not that that would have done very well either; another problem is his style, alternately abrupt and long winded, reads more like an amateurish essay/first draft than a published work. This badly needed an editor.

I don't have a picture of this book, as Amazon doesn't have it up yet, but I will post one up soon, so you can avoid it at your local bookstore.

I hear that film rights have been optioned by the UK's Film Four and a London theatre producer is keen to transform it into a musical. Eek! Jane Lawson, senior editor of the Doubleday Transworld publishers, said it was a "rollicking story" and "one of the most exciting". My foot!



Some more thoughts on this book (and the author). I hope I have put it down sufficiently.

Black - the movie

We watched Black on Sunday morning. Of late, we've started watching Hindi movies at the Sunday matinee slot at Bedok. Couple of reasons: it leaves our evenings free to go out with friends, and it costs less :)

Sa hates watching Hindi movies with me; while I normally enjoy the movies as escapism, she gets totally absorbed in them, and I tend to spoil her experience by whispering my comments to her about things I find ridiculous in the movie. Naturally these being Hindi movies, I have a LOT of comments, and naturally she gets very irritated.



Black shut me up, and I was quiet for the complete 2 hours and twenty minutes. Well, quiet except for the occasional sniffle; I can unashamedly say that I spent a fair amount of time alternately wiping the tears away from my eyes (discreetly, of course), and praising everything about the film: the concept, the execution, the acting, the technical excellence - everything was brilliant.

Amazing performances from Rani Mukherji (my favourite actress, but now I've realised she can act as well as look gorgeous), Amitabh Bachchan's best performance ever (and there have been some blinders in the past), and a revelation in the form of little Ayesha Kapoor.

I had a couple of small complaints about the movie though. One was in the way Michelle's environment was set up. Throughout the movie, I was not very clear where and in what time the movie was set - there were period costumes, old cars, Chaplin movies in old theatres, Hindi dialogues, English dialogues, British accents, Christian names... This had two effects on me - it tended to make the movie timeless and placeless, in the sense that the story could have happened anywhere and anytime. The director probably deliberately did this with the intention of focusing the audience's attention on the story and the characters. But it had the effect of niggling away at my brain throughout the movie.

The second complaint was Rani's Chaplin-like gait. That was quite silly I thought; I haven't seen any blind or deaf people walking awkwardly like that. But it's a minor thing, and didn't detract much from the movie itself.

You can read more thoughts (not mine) about the movie

Tourists on Sentosa

We did the tourist thing yesterday, and visited Sentosa with our guests. I did a sensible thing and bought a guided tour for the guests and entry tickets for us both - I figured this would save us a lot of controversy and laziness in deciding where to go.

Our tour took us to the Underwater World, Dolphin Lagoon, Cinemania, and the Musical Fountain. Having visited the first two countless times, we sat that out, and visited the beach. The water was cool and the sand was soft. We decided to come back here later, when we're more free, and can spend a day on the beach.



The Cinemania was great, we saw two 'movies', one a Grand Prix kind of FPS adventure, and the other a roller coaster ride through a child's bedroom.

The Musical Fountain, strangely, had a queue stretching at least a hundred metres. So we avoided it and instead went for a round-the-island tour on the monorail. Good fun.

Returned home around 11 pm, and crashed out.

Flowers at East Coast beach

Red lanterns for Chinese New Year

The world's tallest man

In today's "Today" newspaper, there was an article on the world's tallest man and his visit to Singapore. Here's a couple of lines from the article:

"The two men [Mr Muhammad Riyaz (2.34m) and Mr Azad Khan Mahsood (2.39m)] ... are touring the world before heading for London, where MrAzad is to supply updated information for his entry in the Guinness Book of World Records"

Um, "updated information"? What could have changed since his last update? I mean, he's in his 30s or 40s and his height shouldn't have changed in the past 15 years, is still Pakistani, still male, still alive.

They're tall, but not the tallest ever. Robert Wadlow, at 8' 11'', stood over 2" taller than me!

I took this photo a couple of years ago on Singapore's National Day, while waiting for the fireworks display to begin. The unconventional shape of the bridge and the reflected colours in the water attracted my attention, but now I just love the beautiful colour of the sky and the people walking along the bridge.

Spring Cleaning for Chinese New Year

It's the Chinese New Year on Wednesday, and Singapore will pretty much shut down between Tuesday afternoon and Thursday, and usher in the Year of the Rooster. Naturally most people have taken the Monday, Tuesday and Friday off as well, and are basking in the sun on some beach somewhere. The office is quiet and bus this morning wasn't as jam packed as it would normally be on a Monday morning.

So we're still in Singapore, and have spent the weekend stocking up on groceries, especially since Ku, Ar and Sh are visiting from Hongkong tonight.

Sa has spent all day today spring cleaning the house along with the maid. Most of the work will be concentrated in the kitchen, where we have to do some serious re-organisation. I'm a clean freak (well, as long as I don't see the dirt, it's ok), and will enjoy coming back to a freshly cleaned house this evening.

Anyway, the plan for the holiday is to visit the Zoo and the Night Safari, Sentosa, and the Jurong Bird Park. Miraculously, these attractions are open over the New Year period. We will also visit Chinatown (suprisingly my first time there during CNY in all these years in Singapore). It's sure to be quite spectacular. Will post photos from there soon.

Bizarre Elevator - (aka my attempt at poetry)

My friend Jon says:
"K is a poet,
and he didn't know-et"

"12th cafetaria" says the computerised voice of my elevator.
As we reach the 15th storey
Ellie (as we've named her) has obviously gone off her rocker.
Who's scrambled her memory?

"Storey cafetaria" she drones monotonously a while later -
(Not quite monotonously though,
She has this little lilt in her voice - love her or hate her)-
when we're on the 19th floor.

Something's clearly wrong, something's not quite right:
"Storey" doesn't equal "cafetaria"!
And it upsets me no end, and I've been awake all night -
I've been thinking about this mysteria.

For Ellie doesn't get this way often, something must have upset her
For her to go off her rocker thus -
Perhaps she's had just one too many rapid-button-presser
Summoning her (faster! faster!) to the 1st.

Whatever the case, she needs something to rewire her crossed circuits.
For mixed messages (to quote Bush)
Confuse the people, and there's definitely going to be no dearth
Of silly people who're going to press and push...

In the meantime it's going to be 19 floors of delirious hysteria
As we collapse in laughter
Listening to Ellie solemnly intone "3rd cafetaria" and then "5th cafetaria"
And on and on at every odd floor thereafter.

Fun in Hong Kong!

I was in Hong Kong earlier this week, and I'd been looking forward to this trip - if not for the pleasure of visiting a new country, then certainly for the joy of hearing the very unique 'Christian' names that Hongkongers adopt.

My interest in the modern HK name was piqued when I read about the Apple Daily (a noted and oft quoted HK newspaper), and heard names like Ankely Ip and Morrisson Leung. Neither is particularly bizarre, but they caught my attention. So when I got here, one of the first things I did was to pull up my company's staff directory and pore through it. It's conveniently also provided in an Excel format - that made my life easier.

I started through it, and passed over the normal names like Edith, Amy, John, Philip. Then I wandered into the vaguely literary/European flowery - with Grumman, Heymman, Pierre, Byron, Antonio, Portia and Edythe.

Then the truly bizarre - Benniff (inspired by Gigli of Ben Affleck and J Lo fame?), Area (might have been a large person, I don't know), Running (her surname wasn't Away, in case you're wondering), Be (not Bop, but Leung), a few food items - Futtucine, Maize, Water and Milk, weather related names - Wind (and its derivative Windy), Summer and Winter. Two vaguely chemical name popped up - Chloris (I'd hate to have a name which sounds like a toilet bowl cleaner) and Florine (white teeth!).

What about Lambo Wong - couldn't his parents spell the name of their favourite mercenary? We have to give the prize for least imagination to Joseph and Rosamund, who I assume in a fit of inspiration, gave their son the imaginative name of Joemund. I came across Unique, Novel, Example (yes really) and Choice. Valiant, Winsome and Braveheart. Perhaps these were qualities that optimistic parents desired from their offspring.

That certainly can't be said about Zero, who in conjunction with her last name Shum, is my winner for best full name. Decem Wun and Novem Chen were interesting names. If they had put in a"Ber" in between, they'd have been perfect dates. Another nice combination was Sting Yip, which I like to call a cause and effect name. Then there was Sominnie Wong, which reminded me of my Maths teacher's comments on my examination papers.

I'm not going to say anything about Pandora's box. I certainly haven't seen it.

Egypt: End of Travelogue

I stopped keeping notes at this point, so this travelogue ends here. You'll just have to use your imagination for the next 3 days :)

Egypt: Day 10 - Aswan Dam and Abu Simbel

Up early again! 6.30 am this time. We perform our usual morning ablutions and proceed for breakfast. Mr Nasser forces us to chat with him for a while, and we also meet the famous 'John Cairo', an Englishman who comes to Egypt in the autumn and winter seasons and plies his felucca down the Nile. Soon a darkish chap appears at the door and hauls us off to a van outside. We drive around Aswan a bit, picking up a few other passengers - a honeymooning English couple and a mysterious and very silent chap with a red bag. Then we drive on to Aswan airport, which as most airports is located away from the city. It's quite a nice building and pretty well kept. I guess it's unsurprising considering the number of tourists who must be coming here every day to visit Abu Simbel. On the way to the airport, we cross the old Aswan Dam. The road across the top is very narrow, just one lane each way [the dam was built in 1917 I think], and paved with bricks. It's a very harrowing and very bumpy couple of minutes across the dam. Soon we reach the airport at 8 am, and chance upon our good pals Tony and Julio there too. Their EgyptAir flight has been cancelled, and so we introduce them to the dark chap, and try and get them on our flight, which as we will soon realise is run by Air Memphis. This is beginning to sound better and better [not].

Aswan airport is also used as an Egyptian Air Force fighter base, and we see quite a few fighter aircraft landing on the runway, complete with the decelerating parachute behind. There's an interminable wait, during which we realise we're flying Air Memphis with another 100 or so people. Too late, we've paid up already. There another massive group of Aussie kids, who're busy dancing at the airport. Quite amusing to watch them. Finally, we walk out of the terminal towards the aircraft - I can't tell what it is but it's a single aisle 3 x 2 seater.

Egypt: Day 9 - Edfu and Aswan

Good morning. For once, we're up at 6 am and not feeling too bad about it. Must be the amount we slept last night. After packing our stuff, we go downstairs and rouse everyone. We don't feel too bad about it as there's a French couple who's also leaving together with us. After a quick breakfast, we're off to the station. The station is nearby so we walk it, and at 7.30, we're on and off. Egypt's a pretty small place we realise - there's a whole lot of people from yesterday's morning tour that we meet at the station. All are going to either Edfu or Aswan. We find two empty seats, and when the TC comes along, we buy two tickets to Edfu. 9 am, we're there.

The Temple of Horus

We take a cab to the Temple and purchase the tickets at the counter for a now predictable LE 20. Rather reluctantly we have to leave our backpacks at the security counter, and we go inside the Temple. It's big. Massive is the word. The Temple is dedicated to the god Horus - the son of Osiris [the original mummy], and Isis. Horus is the god of life and good things, Satya informs me. No wonder the size of this temple. Those ancient Egyptians had their priorities right! We sit at the temple for a while - we have time to kill. This temple again has 3 chambers, and the innermost has a pink granite sanctum sanctorum, which is exquisitely carved. Carving hieroglyphics into granite is no joke, and one can only marvel at the art and the skills of the masons and artists. There were two large granite statues of Horus in his falcon form outside the temple; only one remains now. Satya sits to the side and sketches it in his journal. About noonish, we leave and head back to the station. I buy a couple of apples for lunch and Satya buys 2 cheap tickets in the unreserved compartment to Aswan. No one can say we don't travel in style. It strikes me then that so far, we have travelled by bus, train, bicycle, minibus, felucca, balloon, taxi and horse carriage and will be flying in the next couple of days too. Cool.

So we land up in Aswan at 2 pm and on schedule. On the way out of the station, we spy a tourist office and walk in. The local tourist officer subtly convinces us take the trip to Abu Simbel, and thereby contribute to the local economy. We are convinced and promise to return after checking into a hotel. We walk down to the Rosewan Hotel and check into room number 206, after a short chat with the affable owner, a gentleman named Farouk Nasser. More on him later. After checking in, we return to the tourist centre and get ourselves booked on the next morning's tour of Abu Simbel with a local travel agency. Bye Bye USD 100. At the tourist centre, we meet a young man called Montnasser who takes us to the bank and to whom we pay the cash. Very nice chap, and he knows more about Hindi movies and gossip than the two of us together. But then that's probably no feat.

Back to the hotel, we start chatting with Mr Nasser. He used to be working on the Aswan High Dam project, in charge of HR. After retirement, he now runs this hotel and paints in his spare time. And what paintings! All abstract - very reminiscent of my art teacher back in primary school [Hi Mr Gajjar!]. Pretty incomprehensible, but strangely soothing. The main characters in his paintings are women, chickens and pharaonic symbols such as ankhs and eyes. I can't get the connection. The problem with showing too much interest in things in Egypt is that it is automatically assumed that you want to buy something. So it is with Nasser. He invites us to tea and to discuss his work. But we are by now hardened veterans of these tricks, and we postpone the session until the next evening.

Every city in Egypt that lies on the banks of the Nile has a Corniche running alongside the river, and Aswan is no exception. That evening, we walk down to the Corniche-el-Nil [aka Corneesh Road]. The view of the Nile here is probably the best in Egypt and as the sun sets, it is simply SPECTACULAR. Brilliant blue waters with stark brown hillocks behind and white feluccas sailing serenely down. This place seems to be the focal point of civilisation in this town. What people say about Aswan seems to be mostly true. People don't seem to hassle you here as much as other cities. There are a lot of shops along the main road, banks, travel agencies and jewellery shops being the majority. It's a pretty long and winding road - we end up pretty winded at the end, if you'll pardon the pun.

Nubian Museum

At the end of the Corniche is the road that leads to the Nubian Museum. We walk up and presently find ourselves in front of a large and pretty ostentatious building. Surprisingly, the building houses a very modern, spacious and well laid out display, but it lacks the warmth that the Cairo museum exudes. That being said, the content and layout of the Museum are very well conceived. And the toilets are great, as I soon discover. The museum covers the history of Egypt from prehistoric times to modern days. There's a wealth of information on the two dams, and the moving of the Temples at Abu Simbel and the Temple of Philae. By the time we're done, we're frozen, and our feet are aching. We trudge back to the Rosewan - it's time to sleep, we have another early departure tomorrow.

Egypt: Day 8 - Valley of the Kings and Queens

Balloon Ride over the West Bank

We're up at 4.30 am, and get ready and leave for the balloon ride. Amr [one of the guys whom we paid the money to] comes to our hotel and picks us up, and drives down to the Nile's bank. There we join a boatload of other people - mostly retirees and one couple on their honeymoon. We gather it's the guy's third marriage. The two of us feel very young and very out of place on that boat. A complimentary tea / coffee follows, and amidst some chatter we reach the West Bank. Two vans await us there and we climb in and get introduced to the two 'pilots' who are brothers; later one of them will fly the balloon for us. Flying a balloon is apparently quite a science, and factors like wind speeds and directions play a role in deciding when and where to take off from, if we do indeed take off. We drive around for a while, and the pilots let off small helium balloons periodically and wait and watch as they ascend to the clouds. Finally, we stop at one place, and the brothers announce that we will take off around 6.30 am.

The support crew of 10 or so then swings into action while the pilots flirt with the grandmas among the 14 of us. They [the support crew] get the balloon and the basket off the truck and on the ground and start inflating the balloon. Meanwhile, as the balloon gets ready, the younger brother, who has announced himself to be our pilot, briefs us on safety matters and how to stand when the balloon lands. At long last, the balloon is inflated, we are briefed and we climb into the basket. Up and away! It's a trifle tight in the basket, but with the view I'm getting, it's not a concern. The ride lasts about 50 minutes, during which we hover over the Temple of Ramesses III and the Colossi of Memnon, and rise to a height of a few hundred feet. The basket is unexpectedly stable and the whole balloon is manoeuvrable in ways I couldn't have imagined.

But all good things come to an end, and after an exhilarating hour, we are down again. The final segment of the 'ride' is a silly, but hilarious and entertaining song and dance routine performed by the crew. After another round of 'shay' [tea], we all get complimentary t-shirts and a papyrus certificate declaring that we did the balloon ride in Luxor. I'm blessed that my name is relatively easy to spell, and is printed pretty ok on the certificate. Satya's on the other hand is mauled.

Time is running short as we have our West Bank tour scheduled in the morning, so we rush back to the hotel, have a spot of breakfast, and join the waiting tour bus outside. There are about 30 of us in a minibus as we drive the long drive down to the new bridge over the Nile, cross the river and get to the West Bank. Deja view.

Valley of the Kings and Queens

The West Bank is divided into a few Valleys, most notable of which are KV [Valley of the Kings], QV [V. of the Queens], NV [V. of the Noblemen] and WV [V. of the Workers]. Each of the valleys is littered with tombs, built up over centuries. Apparently, there are no records of the locations of the tombs, and while building the tombs, it was quite common to cut into older tombs. At this point, the builders would then tangent off and continue in another direction or downwards. There is currently a large scale project on called the Theban Mapping Project [Thebes was the ancient name of Luxor]. This project has recently unearthed the largest tomb to be discovered so far - that of the sons of Ramesses II. We start off at QV, and visit the tombs of Queen Titi and her son [QV, despite its name, includes the tombs of Princes and Princesses too]. Nearby is the tomb of Neferteri, which is supposed to be the most beautiful tomb of all. We don't get an opportunity to go inside, as only 150 people are allowed in everyday, and the LE 100 tickets are sold out by 6.30 am. After that we visit KV, and enter the tombs of Ramesses IX, Amenophis IV and Seti II [the latter was a son of Ramesses II]. There were a few reasons for the selection of this area for the necropolis - it was away from the Nile [and therefore safe from flooding] and on high ground, the geology of the place meant that the tombs could be hidden quite easily from tomb robbers, and the fact that there was a pyramid-shaped peak nearby.

After KV and QV, we drive over to the Temple of Hatshepsut, the only female Pharaoh in ancient Egypt. The temple was built for her by her lover, a very famous architect called Senenmut, and was partially destroyed earlier this century as a result of an earthquake; it was later reconstructed. Finally we proceed to the Colossi of Memnon - 2 colossal statues that tower over the villages below. One of the two statues had a cavity in the centre and the wind used to make a moaning sound when it blew across the statues. To the Greeks who occupied Egypt, it sounded like a mythological character who cried upon the death of her son Memnon. The statues have been patched, but the name remains.

We meet an interesting chap on this trip, a Brit movie set designer who had worked on the original Star Wars trilogy. This chap's wife is Iranian, and he was one of the hostages in the '79 Iranian hostage crisis. He was released when it was discovered that his wife was Iranian. These days, every time his wife visits Iran, he visits Egypt, and studies heiroglyphics.

Return to Luxor city and have a late lunch at one of the small restaurants near the hotel, and go to the station to buy our tickets to Edfu the following morning. "Buy tickets on train! Buy tickets on train!", so we walk back to the hotel. Who should we meet on the way, but our trusty and overly affectionate limpet Mohammed. He urges us to join him for a tea. We relent, and after the tea and some small talk, we get back to the Sherif hotel, and decide to retire for the day. After all, it has been a terribly exciting and strenuous day today, and we have to wake up early - got a train to catch.

Egypt: Day 7 - Luxor and sailing down the Nile in a Felucca

I wake up at 7 and go and brush my teeth. Slept rather well I think. Not the same for Satya, he's a bit under the weather. Breakfast beckons and off we go downstairs to the Valley.

Luxor Temple and Museum

Damn. Our visit to the Valley is postponed until tomorrow, as the tour operator is full up today. So it looks like we'll have to do Karnak and the Luxor Temple today. We rent a couple of bicycles at LE 7 apiece [Made in China] and cycle up to the Luxor Temple. Luxor is actually the Western corruption of a local village's name - El Uqsur. Cheapos that we are, we skimp on the usual LE 20 admission fee and peep over the thigh high embankment wall into the courtyard and the temple. Walk around and try to see if there's any suitable [non-paying] way we can enter. But the Egyptians are also Asians and they have blocked off all these. We move on after taking a few photographs, towards the Luxor Museum. Having been prewarned that this museum is a scaled down version of the Cairo Museum, we pedal past it with nary a glance, and on to Karnak. On the way we pass a bookshop and find a dusty 1997 edition of the LP at the exorbitant price of LE 85. Forget it! Instead we each buy a copy of the "Atlas of Ancient Egypt" and I buy a small map of the Nile too.

Karnak

We cycle on and finally reach the Temple of Karnak. Hordes of tourists. We included of course. We park our bicycles in a small garden and enter the temple. This entrance is flanked by two rows of small sphinxes with rams' heads. With this fact in mind, the path leading to the entrance is called the Avenue of Ram-headed Sphinxes. The Temple is one of the biggest structures in Egypt, the big pyramids aside, and we spend a full 2 and a half hours looking around the place. It is BIG and filled with pillars and obelisks and statues. Apparently, when the temple was discovered, there was one particular room which contained as many as 800 statues of granite, bronze, basalt, marble and gold. And it was supposed to be a dumping ground for the older [obsolete?] statues. The temple was discovered in the early 19th century, and beautiful pictures exist today showing the tops of the tall obelisks peeking out from a pile of sand. All the sand has been excavated and the temple stands clear now. Signs of the excavation are all around. Graffiti belonging to the early archaeologists - names and dates - climb up pillars, and indicate the sand level at various point in time. Walking around the pillars, some of which still have their original colours is a deeply hypnotic feeling. The colours have withstood the test of time and nature and man, and their sapphire blues, emerald greens, ruby reds and amber yellows wink through years of grime and erosion, hinting at the splendour that must have greeted the worshippers. If only I had a time machine to go back to those days!

Looking at my watch, I'm brought back to today and now. We have an appointment with Mohammed for a felucca ride on the Nile. Run back to the Sherif Hotel rather hurriedly and enquire about a good place to have lunch. The recommendation - a joint called "Mish Mish". We walk there and enter a small restaurant, which in its heydays would have been the closest thing in Luxor to a western style restaurant - complete with knife and fork, and placemats too. Of course, the said heydays are long gone, and we find ourselves and three flies the sole diners in the place. Lunch is bread with tomatoes and white cream salad, babaghanoug. I have something called an eggplant bram, which is rice with a liquidy brinjal curry. Satya has the same in the okra flavour. Okra [ladysfinger] in this region are just about an inch long and there's no need to cut them. All in all the food's ok and cheap. We get back to the hotel by 3 pm.

Felucca Ride



Mohammed [the same chap who brought us to this hotel last night] calls in 5 minutes, and we walk the short walk to the riverside. There we meet up with a friend of his, a man called Hassan and bearing the grandiose title of 'boat-captain'. Literally we walk the plank and into the felucca. The felucca is a small sailboat, about 20m long and 5m wide. Making ourselves comfortable among the dirty cushions, we set sail into the Nile. There's no current and no wind to speak of, and so we drift slowly for 10 - 15 minutes. During this, we have a glass of tea and listen to some Bob Marley on the car stereo. Bob M is very big in Egypt, and more so in Luxor. There's a photo of him at the Sherif Hotel and I guess he's an icon to the local drug scene, of which Mohammed admits to being a part. Today he's just smoking Marlboros. We drift across to the West Bank and sit there for a suitable period, allowing the locals there to make a pitch for our $$. "Camel ride? Donkey ride? Horse ride?". The word 'La' works as well here as it does in Singapore. There it's punctuation, in Egypt it means 'No'. Satya rather nice-heartedly gives a small note to a child who gives him a flower. Big mistake. He's immediately swamped by six more kids and we have to shoo them off and retreat to the boat. We drift along a bit more. Sometime later, we witness a complex series of signals between Hassan and another boatman, and quickly find ourselves part of a convoy of feluccas, all headed for Banana Island. There's a tug tugging all of us along. 20 minutes later, we pull up at B.I. Climb out and walk around for a while in a banana plantation. Rather incongruous to find souvenir shops here, but we still enter and look around. Satya's dying to take more 'sunset on the Nile' photos and he reminds Mohd that it's approaching sundown, and the latter takes us somewhere beyond a fence of barbed wire, past a herd of cows and barking dogs and their owners and behind a sugarcane field, where we witness one of the most beautiful sunsets ever.

We return to the boat and with the aid of a strong wind, make it back to our starting point rather quickly. Alight from the felucca and baksheesh the captain and return to the hotel. It's 6 pm by now, and we have to run to catch the 7 pm sound and light show at Karnak. We mount our trusty "Made in China" steeds and gallop off towards the Karnak Temple. Reach there at 6.55 pm, and a minute after we buy the tickets, the show starts. It's a walk through the Temple again, this time accompanied by voices and music. Quite a decent show, though I fall asleep near the end. By then it's bitterly cold, and we don't have the luxury [Luxory? Haha] of our jackets. We cycle back to the hotel after the show, and book our places on the early morning balloon ride over Luxor. Bye bye $$. Then it's back to bed as we retire for the night. Another early day tomorrow. And I thought we had left those behind ...

Egypt: Day 6 - St. Kat to Cairo to Luxor

4.30 am. Brrrr. I drag Satya out of bed. This business of getting up at unearthly hours is getting to be a bad habit. We pack up all our gear and prepare for the cold outside - T-shirt, jeans, a jacket, a towel around my face and a cap. Satya says that all that's missing in the picture is an AK-47. We step out of the cabin. Not much difference in the temperature. It's black as ink out there, but the sky is cloudless and absolutely divine. I see more stars today than I've ever seen in my life, and that's no exaggeration. For the first time, I see the Milky Way stretch across the skies. Now I fully appreciate what we miss here in Singapore.

We walk down to the highway and are there at 5.15. The bus is supposed to come along that road sometime between 5.30 and 6.15 am. We generally hang around, walk about, stamp our feet. It must be at most 5 deg C here now. Slowly the skies lighten. The hills and peaks that surround us turn slowly from black to brown, red to orange. Finally their tips catch a bit of the 6 am sun, and turn orange-yellow. A wonderful sight. Equally wonderful, and more welcome is the sight of the Cairo bus. We jump up and down and wave our arms like madmen. In hindsight, I'm surprised the driver stopped, considering the way I looked. Still, the bus pulls over and we clamber in, grateful to get out of the cold. Long way to Cairo.

We alternate between watching a sleazy Arabic movie on TV, watching the scenery and reading or doing the crossword. The scenery is easily the most riveting - with the Gulf of Suez on the left and hilly land everywhere else. What a royal contrast - blue and golden brown. The landscape is mostly brown and hilly but for a few dusty bushes and some transmission towers and the black asphalt on the road. Roiling hot air rises from the streets ahead of us, and I manage to solve 19 Across, 23 Across and 2 Down. Time flies. As always, Satya is asleep, and I miss a tremendous photo opportunity of him with his mouth hanging open. Our passports and tickets are checked 4 - 5 times; "Indi! Gooooodd!".

12.30 pm - Midan Ramses, Cairo. We alight and walk over to the train station to buy our tickets to Luxor. To our dismay, we discover that the 10 pm train is sold out and the only tickets available at on the 2 pm train. This changes our plans just a little bit, so we buy the [very classy looking] tickets for the 2 pm train and walk over to platform 8. I buy a couple of cheese-sandwiches for sustenance. The train comes in a while. The seats allocated to us in Second Class are surprisingly plush and spacious. They even recline! Expected time of arrival in Luxor is 11 pm. I start reading "Ghost Story" and Satya starts writing. Over the next 9 hours, I finish 200 pages, we eat the sandwiches, numerous cups of tea and a couple of ta'amiyas. I even manage to catch a short nap. The countryside rushing by outside the window shows, meanwhile, shows exactly why Egypt is called the "Gift of the Nile". Earlier today, we saw stretches of desert and hills as far as they eye could see. This landscape, with green fields of paddy, vegetables and sugarcane is quite a contrast.

At 11.10 pm, we hit Luxor. Rather, Luxor hits us. As we walk out of the station, a million touts assail us. With our backpacks and tired faces, we are exactly what they are looking for. The touts surround us and flash small cards with hotel names scribbled on them. Fortunately, we remember a couple of good hotels from the LP, and we start walking towards one of them [they're all in the vicinity]. One of the touts, a young chap called Mohammad, perseveres and convinces us to stay in the Sherif Hotel. Decent place with hot showers and clean sheets. At LE 10 a night each, inclusive of breakfast, it's a steal! We check in a proceed to enjoy a complimentary "coffee turkiy" and a long chat with the owner. We decide to take a tour arranged by the hotel the next morning and pay the cash. Places to be covered are the West Bank.

Then, pleading tiredness, we climb up to our third floor room and after a long hot shower and an even more pleasurable shave, we hit the sheets. It's almost 2 am by now. And we are now exactly halfway through our trip.

Egypt: Day 5 - Mount Sinai and St. Katherine

It's 3.30 am. Finally decide to wake up and get moving. Hm... I seem to have pulled on a pair of pants, my jacket and a pair of socks sometime during the night. Cold + mosquitoes maketh not a good combination. Wash up as best as we can and pack up our gear and walk over to Hamada's room. Chap probably hates us thoroughly - this is the second time we're waking him up at an obscene hour. We pass him the keys and walk the kilometer to the highway. After a 15-20 minute wait, we catch a cab; he offers to take us to St. Katherine for LE 100. And we set off. 15 minutes in, he turns around and asks, "Driver gooood???" and we reply, "Yessss!!!". "Where you from? Indi? Ah! Indi gooodd!!!. Amitabh Bachchan????" Everybody here seems to like Indians, and I've developed new respect for the big B. When you get people from the farthest reaches of Egypt knowing your name and those of your movies...

Mt. Sinai

We reach St. Kat about 7.30 am. Wait until 8 or so to get our bags stowed in some guys's room. LE 3.00 baksheesh each. Then we walk to the back of the monastery and begin the climb up. During the climb we meet a huge number of tourists climbing back down. They seem to have reached here and done the climb at night and climbed back down in early morning, after watching the sunrise. The two of us seem to be the only people attempting the climb up at this time. The way up is a very long route. Just at the beginning we look us and see a small hut on the top of a nearby peak. That's our destination I think. As we climb on and on, we nearly give up a couple of times. But we persevere and reach the top after almost 2 hours. It is then that we realise that the hut that we had seen before the climb is on a different peak at a height of about half of where we are standing. The view from up here is awesome. And brown. The only trees we see are 3 cypress trees, one of which is supposed to be 5000 years old, which stand on a small plateau about 10 minutes down, known as Elijah's Basin. After about 10 minutes' rest and a few photographs, we head back down and take the second route down, known as the 3000 Steps of Repentance. These were laid by one of the monks at the Monastery a few hundred years ago in repentance. This route down is significantly faster, but harder on the knees and heels. And on the balance too. But we get back down in about an hour and 15 minutes, alive and in one piece.

At the top of Mt Sinai, after an exhausting 2 hour climb. The climb down was faster but harder on the knees. But the view and the thrill of standing up there were worth it.

Back down we discover that all our plans thereon have to be changed. One of the components in our travel plans - the bus from St. Katherine to Sharm-el-shaikh no longer plies the route. The only bus leaving this town is a bus to Cairo at 6.00 am. Which is tomorrow. And to compound our misery, our Bible, the Lonely Planet is missing. I search high and low and we're both massively depressed. Me more so, having been directly responsible for the loss. After an hour of searching and questioning people, we declare the book officially lost, and ourselves officially stranded in St. Kat, at least for the night. Yay. We take a cab to the village to try our luck and see what can be done. Get there and decide to eat something, not having eaten anything for almost 24 hours.

But first things first, we decided to try and locate the bus-stand from where we can get anywhere out of this place [I was about to write God-forsaken, but with Mt. Sinai standing sentinel, that's exactly what this place isn't]. Turns out that our information is correct, and that the only bus serving this town is the "Only one bus Katreen - Cairo tomorrow morning - sickoos". How about a taxi to Sharm? A few eager operators jump at us - LE 250. Nothing less and so nothing doing. Satya has the idea of returning to Cairo and taking a train to Luxor from there. That way we get there at almost the same time, save some money too, but get to see fewer places. Rather reluctantly, I agree and we decide to stay the night. We sit outside the "Restaurant for Friends" and munch moodily on 2 - 3 felafels and a Coke. Fairly tasty, but doesn't do Satya's stomach any good. I, of the metal plated stomach species pass the test unscathed, for now at least.

After lunch we walk into a souvenir shop to ask for directions and to change some cash. The owner's name is Mr. Shukri. 60+ year old man, who owns a villa in St. Kat and houses Alexandria. Has 2 kids in LA, and has visited 45 countries in his lifetime. He advises us to stay at the Al-Fayrouz hotel, which is a 10 minute walk away. Off we go, backpacks in tow. We quickly locate the hotel and discover that it is a large courtyard with a row of houses off on the right and a small room with a small and dismal "Reception" sign. Knock knock! Nobody's home, and the fact is borne out by a couple local young men. So we cross the road to the row of 5-star hotels. El Wady el Mah-something cost USD 50 per night for a double room, and Daniela village hotel cost USD 56. Whew! But as they say here in Singapore, boh-pian. So we choose the lesser of the two evils and ask the manager of the former for a room. He says that he does have a room, but if we're looking for something cheaper, he recommends the Zaituna camp, 5 km down the road. Which sounds like a good idea, except that the likelihood of getting a taxi at 5 am to get back to the village to catch the bus at 'sickoos' is not too high. We convey this fact to the hotel manager and he says, "Oh no problem! You can catch your bus down the road... Only one road to St. Kat, two ways and lots of accidents!" This piece of news has the curious effect of making us feel both good and scared at the same time. But we think it's pretty decent of the manager to give us this advice at the expense of his own business. We later decide he probably didn't want a couple of scruffy looking ruffians like us hanging around his establishment.

We decide to go to Zaituna. Crossing back to the other side of the road, we wait outside a phone booth where a be-gelbeyya'd gentleman is making a call. What has attracted us is the presence of a shiny new Toyota pickup outside. "Excuse me, can you give us a lift to Zaituna?". He says ok, and then I pop the stupid question, "How much? Bikem?" An opportunistic look crosses his face and he quotes LE 20. After negotiating down to 15, we get in and drive down to Zaituna, which is sited next to another 5-star hotel. The question arises, who in his right mind is going to stay in a 5-star hotel 5 km from anywhere, literally surrounded by nothing? The owner/caretaker of Zaituna, one Khaled comes over to us and says, "Only sleep, no food." After establishing that we can shower there, we check in. At the price of LE 30 per night, we are not too likely to complain.

We're shown to our room - a large dormitory that can take 17-18 persons at a pinch. And the two of us are the only people in the dorm. In the whole camp. Probably in a 5 km radius as well. The cabin is a concrete structure which has the windows boarded up with plywood and a patterned cloth ceiling. The sleeping area is a raised concrete slab on which the caretaker placed 2 mattresses, pillows and blankets. Water takes a couple of hours to heat up, and we have a pleasure of bathing in the ladies' shower, which is the only one which has hot water. About 7 pm, we decide to have dinner and begin to hope that the deserted hotel next door has some sort of restaurant. We repack our stuff and lock them to a wooden post, and walk over to the Morgenland hotel. A ten minute walk later we find the restaurant which is currently being patronised by a tour group. Buffet dinner, with rice, spaghetti, some dals, babaghanoug, etc etc, with some decent dessert at the end. Costs us LE 28 each, but we do it justice. The management literally chases us out. We walk back to our room and retire for the night. Early day ahead.

Now is know what 6 days of stubble feels like. It's not good.

Egypt: Day 4 - The Coloured Canyon

It's 6 am. Bitterly cold, we pull into Nuweiba port and take a cab to the City Beach Hotel, and after waking up the owner, Hamada, arrange for a hut on the beach. LE 20 per night - damn cheap. Nuweiba is famous for the Coloured Canyon, and we disturb Hamada again, and ask him how to get to this place. Ever the resourceful, Hamada says that he just 'happens to know' someone who has a jeep that he can rent out to us along with a driver and a guide. The price - 250 Pounds. Gasp! But we feel that we've come here all the way for this, and might as well do it. A good attitude, and one that will lighten our pockets considerably in the near future.

The Coloured Canyon

At 8.30 am, a battered jeep pulls into the Hotel courtyard with an equally battered old driver, Salaam, coaxing it along. Driver and the guide are a baap/beta double act - the latter's name is Firik [I think]. The coloured canyon is supposed to be about 120 km away, and the initial part of the journey is over a nice tar road for about 20-25 minutes. Then a dirt road - actually, that's unfair, it's more of a beaten track in the gravel. We think this should be about 10 minutes or so, but it turns out to be more than an hour of literally bouncing around in the quite dilapidated vehicle. Finally we pull up to the 'lip' of the canyon. Oh yes, we notice a section of our path bordered with barbed wire fences with signs saying "Danger - Mines", and showing 2 pictures. One of a normal man, and the second of a man with a wooden leg. Very quaint. Turns out that the entire Sinai peninsula was mined by the Israelis when they attacked Egypt and took this area over.

So we climb into the canyon and walk along the path an ancient river must have taken. The thought occurs to me, that a few millennia from now, people like us will descend into the Nile or the Ganges, and marvel at the beautiful rock formations that must exist even now. And we walk on. Walking, walking, crawling, climbing, walking along the canyon. We have a couple of adventurous moments when we have to squeeze ourselves under a large rock that's wedged itself along the way. I silently congratulate myself on my lack of girth. Along the way, there are very interesting rock formations in rich reds, yellows, greens and black. After more walking, we finally reach the end and climb back up to the top of the canyon, where the jeep along with Salaam await. We sit down for a few minutes under a shaded area with a strategically placed soft drink stall in front. But we resist the urge. Salaam asks again and again, "Canyon goooood????" and we reply, "Yessss!!!".

With a roar of dust and diesel [apologies to Dire Straits here), we drive back to CBH. Reach Nuweiba city at 2 and ask Salaam to drop us near a restaurant, named 'Dr. Sheesh Kabab's', and have a decent lunch of rice, babaghanoug, tahina, french fries and sauteed vegetables. I walk down to a nearby stall and buy a copy of the Egyptian Gazette. Quite a newspaper. More on that later. Post-lunch, we return to the Hotel where a now quite awake Hamada asks, "Canyon gooood???". And we reply, "Yessss!!!".

Our digs at CBH consists of a tiny hut right on the beachfront with two concrete platforms over which they spread a thin mattress and a sheet. We get into the hut and change into shorts. Time to hit the beach. The water is lovely and cool and unbelievably clear. It makes for a beautiful picture - deep blue sea, flanked by red-brown mountains. We walk along the water for an hour and return to the hut and sleep. At 4.00 pm. Wake up again at 10.30 with a strong sense of deja-vu. @#$@#$@%!!! We missed dinner again. Oh well. Sleep on...

Egypt: Day 3 - Around Cairo, and the Mysterious 2 Girls

G'morning mate! 7.15 am. We pack up and shower and have the usual MH breakfast of bread and cheese and butter and jam and coffee. Today's plan is to visit Islamic Cairo and the Heliopolis area, and we leave tonight for Nuweiba.

We leave our backpacks down at the reception and take a train from Sadat [the Metro station in Midan Tahrir] to Attaba, and walk towards yesterday's Mausoleum of Al Ghouri. Things look very different in the day and we get a bit lost. We ask a couple of chaps for directions. Strangely we get directions in Arabic, but by watching the hand motions we are able to locate the general area we want to go. Right next to the Mausoleum is a 'souq' [market] which was very active last night. But now it looks rather dead. Later we realise it's because today is Sunday, and it's quite early - 10 am only.

Islamic Cairo

We walk down the narrow road and after a while reach the Mosque of al-Mu'ayyad. The mosque itself is very old and is finished with a lot of wood inlaid with ivory. Badly maintained though. We climb up to the roof, where we are treated to a spectacular view of the surrounding ramshackle huts. Climb back down and continue our walk. I wander into a carpet shop with grandiose dreams of bringing back an Egyptian carpet to adorn my living room. In fact I even start negotiating with the owner in a mixture of English words and Arabic numbers. Then Satya brings me back to ground zero by asking, "Hey, you sure you want to lug that thing all over the place today, and all through Egypt???" Makes sense and I beat a hasty retreat. We walk on down to the Mosque of Sultan Hussain. This is beautiful! There are so many lovely carvings in wood and stone here, that I might just come back to Cairo to visit Islamic Cairo alone. The mosque has a serene mausoleum inside which is very eerie in the morning. The bottom part is dark, while the top glows a radiant golden with a couple of shafts of fresh sunlight peeping in through the air vents at the top. I suspect that the inside of the top of the dome is inlaid with gold or bronze, giving the colour I see. The whole mosque is so quiet as I pen my thoughts down - just the 2 of us along with about 6 - 7 other tourists and a couple of locals in an area the size of a cricket ground! I could sit here all day...

Instead, we move on to the next mosque - that of Qijmas-al-Ishaqi. There's no admission fee, unless we want to climb up to the minaret. There's also a guide here, a local chap, very personable and very smart. We later find out that he's an Economics undergrad at the local Cairo University. Takes us around the mosque and we climb up to the top, via a very rickety old spiral staircase, which groans under our weight. Still we make it up and back and after a short chat with Ahmed, leave for Midan Tahrir. We decide to take the minibus again and cram ourselves into a 10 seater bus that contains about 30 people. This place reminds me again and again of home... The narrow alleys and the smell that I remember from the Bismillah hotel and Radio hotel behind Camp Market in Pune.

Heliopolis

Search around in Tahrir for the bus to Nuweiba [we haven't bought the tickets as yet], and decide we'll go to Heliopolis first and then find the Sinai bus terminus later. Waiting for the bus, we buy a couple of 'buttas' [corn on the cob, roasted over a charcoal flame, and liberally smothered with lime and spices]. Take number 356 [yes, this is the airport bus that we so famously got screwed over on Day 1] and realise a while later that we don't know where to get off. We ask the driver and he can't understand Eenglees. A couple of girls look up at us and say, "Oh it's another 20-25 minutes more." So, clutching a 'butta' each, we walk to the back of the bus. The two girls follow and we get to chatting, and discover their names are Gigi and Rania. After a short while, a 3rd girl taps Satya on the shoulder and asks, "You wanted Heliopolis? This is it - you get off here." We get up, and the two original girls tell us, "Come with us if you want to see the Baron's palace, we're going there too." And about 5 minutes later, we alight and climb into a taxi [all 4 of us]. Another 5 minutes later, the taxi stops and there in front of us in all its ugly but adorable majesty is the Baron's Palace. Quite a spectacle, but it's been fenced off. As Rania explains, some people used to come here in the middle of the night and carry out strange rituals to the accompaniment of satanic music [the word 'Metallica' is mentioned here, ha!]. The place is modelled after Angkor Vat of Cambodia, and is covered with massive to small carvings of elephants, tigers, plants, flowers, and of course, the omnipresent Cairo dust. What is even more cool, is a rumour that the palace is built on a rotating platform that apparently could rotate one degree every day, so that the Baron had a different view each day of the year. Hmm..

Rania and Gigi are still with us. We take a couple of snaps. Our minds are now shouting, "Watch out!!! You're about to get screwed again!", and we're continuously assessing the likelihood that we *are* being taken for a ride of sorts. 50-50? 40-60? 60-40? Then they ask us when we return to Cairo after the rest of our trip, as they want to make us some home-cooked Egyptian food. By now, our alarm bells are screaming, and we try to make excuses to opt out. "We don't know when we're returning, perhaps on the 16th... Maybe on the 17th, but we're leaving for home on the 17th." Then they ask us for dinner that evening, but we need to get our Nuweiba tickets. Again they come to our rescue and we take a loooong walk to the bus terminal, and interpret for us as we buy the tickets for the night Superjet us to Nuweiba. After that they take us to a place where we can get a bus back to Tahrir. We exchange email addresses and get Gigi's phone number. And they leave. And we are left speechless and wondering *why* two people would go through all this trouble and expense [they paid for the cabs] to help a couple of strangers. If this is the real hospitality of the Egyptian, and not the nonsense we encountered on day 1, then I am going to return here for more. Today, we have had the pleasure of meeting three wonderful people, and it negates our experiences of Day 1.

We take the bus number 791 all the way from Sheraton to Tahrir, and have our usual shot of fruit juice there. We still have some time to kill so we walk over to the Cairo Tower for a spectacular night view from 60 storeys up [as the liftman proudly tells us - 60 storeys in 45 seconds. and 50 pt. for that nugget]. I fancy I can see the pyramids from up here. We return downstairs and head for a satisfying dinner at the Felfela Restaurant. We have Koshary, which is a mixture of rice, macaroni, chick peas and moong-dal, with a spicy tomato puree sauce. Very tasty. Top that off with a helping of Mahlabia, a dessert which is essentially vanilla custard. I call home and have a short chat with the parents. Mom reminds me that today's Diwali. After the call, Satya and I solemnly wish each other.

We then return to MH, collect our bags and walk to Sadat station and head to Ghamra. From there it's a longish cab ride to the Al Maaza bus station [aka Soberjed (Superjet!)]. We wait for an hour, and surprisingly, the bus leaves at 11 pm sharp. 7 hours to Nuweiba.

Happy Diwali!

Egypt: Day 2 - Memphis and Saqqara / Egyptian Museum

We get up very ambitiously at 7 am, with a view to seeing a sunrise on the Nile. Turns out the sun rises at 5.30 these days. I think sleep is more important. Still we walk down the Corniche-el-Nil behind the Hilton and cross one of the bridges to the other side and look around a bit.

Memphis and Saqqara

Our trip to Memphis and Saqqara is scheduled around 9.30 am. Magic Hotel has arranged for a taxi, and we pile in after breakfast and set off. Memphis used to be the capital of ancient Egypt, especially in the times of Ramesses II. Close by is the necropolis of Saqqara, where the oldest pyramid - Djoser's Step Pyramid - is located. Both of these are 25km from Cairo.

As we drive along the Nile, and later along an irrigation canal, it strikes Satya and me that Egypt is so much like India to look at. The countryside as we drive is scattered with green paddy and vegetable fields, small houses and huts with kids playing in the yard and mothers cooking, electric transmission poles, the obligatory canal on the side... It's amazing. The only thing that tells us that we're in Egypt is the presence of signs and the fact that all the signs are in Arabic.

So we reach Memphis. It's quite unbelievable that this was the capital of Egypt, and the centre of Egypt's culture for so many centuries. Now all that remains is a massive statue of Ramesses II, lying fallen in a building and a few statues mounted in a garden. Overall the scene was quite sad - the whole place was destroyed by floods and sand storms we're told. We tour around the fallen statue, now enclosed by a building which accommodates a steady stream of tourists. Walking around outside, I take a few photos, including one with a couple of 'Tourist Police'. For this I have to tip them 50 piastres each.

Saqqara is more fulfilling. We start off at the tombs of Mere-Ruka and the Pyramid of Titi. This latter monument gives the claustrophobic feeling of entering a pyramid, with its narrow and short and quite steep downward shaft. The bottom is quite bare, but the sarcophagus is still there, and the 'Pyramid Texts' that spell out the ancient Egyptian Book of the Dead line the walls. The effect is quite spectacular. At the time. We move on to Djoser's unique pyramid, the Step Pyramid, which was the first pyramid to be built, and at the time of its construction, was the biggest man-made structure on earth. This pyramid, was built by the brilliant architect Imhotep, and set the standards and practices for building pyramids in later centuries.

The Step Pyramid is unique in that it has a massive complex surrounding it. This is complete with a large entrance hall with 44 pillars, and a substantial number of false entrances. A lot of the walls are broken now, but the awe-inspiring effect of the size is undiminished. This hall - the Hypostyle Hall - opens into a large central courtyard, with a few rooms and altars on each. Apparently, every year, the Pharoah would re-enact his coronation with a ceremony in this courtyard, and he would sit on two thrones one after another symbolising his dominion over the regions of Upper and Lower Egypt [Lower Egypt consisted of the areas north of Memphis, and Upper Egypt consisted of areas south of Memphis. The areas were named thus because of their altitude, and obviously not their latitude].

Outside the courtyard we visit a few small tombs of some of the queens and children of the Pharoah and of the Pharoah Unas. The Pyramid of Djoser has one last novelty. As you look at the Pyramid, there's a small room in front which has 2 holes cut into its front wall. Peer into either and you come face to face with a life size image of Djoser himself. Quite eerie indeed...

Leaving this area, we walk around a little more and visit the tombs of Ptah-Hotep and his father who's name I forget. Along the way, I strike something with my toe and pick up a small fragment of plaster with some Egyptian hieroglyphics on it. Looks quite authentic, but I am naturally pessimistic. Can't be the real thing, but maybe it is, so I wrap it in a newspaper and slip it into my bag. We return to Magic Hotel, and take a short rest.

Later in the afternoon, about 2.00, we leave for the Egyptian Museum. This is a short walk from MH, and we take the opportunity to stop at the juice stall and quaff two tall cool ones, one mango and one ‘cocktail’. Feels divine in the heat. Then onto the Museum.

Egyptian Museum

LOTS of exhibits, but they're arranged in what strikes me as a very haphazard manner. Maybe it makes some sort of sense in a deeper way. We wander around for a while, and since the museum is due to close at 4.30, we take in the important exhibits first. Notably the Tutankhamen [Tut-Ankh-Amen] chamber, which contains the famous [and justifiably so] mask of Tut. This is the gold and blue mask that was placed on his mummy prior to closing the sarcophagus. There are also exhibited piles of ornaments which were wrapped together with the mummified body. This whole area is filled with gold this and gold that [ironically, silver was more expensive than gold at the time, I believe]. What really stings is the fact that there was so much treasure in the tomb of a rather minor and unimportant King. It is left to our imaginations to conceive of the untold treasures that have been stolen from the tombs of the really important pharaohs like Ramesses II, Seti I, Akhenaten.

I take a lot of photographs, and hope they will develop properly - flash photography is banned in the museum. I would really have loved to spend a whole day in this place, looks like we made a mistake in our timing... Damn.

We take our second walk along the Nile for the day, and take some interesting photos of the Nile at sunset. Then we return to MH, and take some more rest; our feet are killing us. Then dinner. Today's restaurant of choice is the El Taibi El Domiati. Place looks and feels [and tastes?] like an Indian roadside restaurant – good and oily food and very cheap. We have a salad made up of cheese, tomatoes, moong dal and some rather 'khatta' olives. Then there's the ubiquitous ta'amiya with some dishes such as rajma-like dish, fried brinjal, dal and french fries. Yes, it's a strange combination, I know. Very filling and only LE 8 for each of us!

Sufi Dance

Our next stop is the Sufi Dance. We take the Metro to Attaba station and walk [a long walk] to the Mausoleum of Al Ghouri, which is where the performance is held twice a week. To our disappointment, the place is full [we have to get there 2 hours early! It's that popular]. Dejected, we sit outside and look mournful enough for the doorkeeper to walk up and start chatting. He promises to let us in after a while, and is true to his word. We go in after about 30 minutes.

The dance itself is a truly transfixing spectacle. There is a dancer in the centre who whirls around in a circle for the entire duration of the performance, and a troupe of 5 other dancers with tambourines. These are ably supported by about 6 - 7 musicians with a variety of string, wind and more percussion instruments. And of course there's a singer. The songs and dances are all devotional, and what impresses me most is the look of utter devotion and bliss on the central dancer's face as he whirls. Occasionally he speeds up and twirls the one of the layers of skirts he's wearing above his head and then off in a blur of colour and tosses it to one of the surrounding dancers. In all, he whirls for over 20 minutes - and makes all of *us* dizzy!

Later in the night, we take a minibus back to MH and collapse into bed. End of Day 2. Highlight of the day - we learnt to read and write Arabic numerals. Very very useful, as now we can read bus and train numbers and prices in restaurants, so that people can't cheat us.

Egypt: Day 1 - Arrive in Cairo

Hmm... Toilets are called WCs. First thought that occurs to me standing in the queue at Immigration. Immigration is painless. Airport is not bad. We visit the loo [WC], not bad either, but we have to tip the kid there 25 piastres each for the unnecessary toilet paper. Collect our bags at the baggage collection, and check with the local SIA person about getting to the Downtown area. Nora [the aforementioned SIA rep] says, "Take the bus number 356 outside the airport, and then you can take a taxi from there to your hotel. But don't pay more than 2 - 3 pounds for the taxi, he's going to ask you for 5 times that."

But before we can get out, our baggage is opened and checked as we're leaving the airport - our first exposure to the Egyptian obsession with security. Nothing terribly really wrong with that I guess. We walk down outside the airport and start looking for the bus no. 356. "Big white bus with red and blue stripes", Nora had told us.

"Taxi, you want taxi? Downtown? Where you want to go?" This from a scruffy looking chap standing in front of a taxi that looks like it can scarcely drive out of the car park under its own steam. "No bus for 3 - 4 hours, last bus just left 5 minutes!"

Somehow we get to Midan Tahrir and walk into the Magic Hotel, which true to its name, seems to stay upright by magic. After climbing up 3 storeys with our backpack, and bemusedly passing dilapidated offices with lovely colonial names such as “Occidental-Egypt Geographical Society”, we step into the hotel and check in. Here I have to make a recommendation – if you’re in Cairo on a budget, this is the place to stay. Despite its rundown exterior, it’s warm and cosy, the toilets work and, as we discovered the following morning, the breakfast is yum.

Egypt: Day 0

Flight is at 11.30 pm. I'm at home from office at 6.30. After hurriedly completing my packing, I'm done by 8. Leave for the airport, and Vandana, Roy and Ravi are there to see me off. Meet Satyajit there. Check in and we're off. Pretty eventless flight. Satya and I are seated away from each other. Land at Dubai around 3 am local time, and wander around aimlessly for an hour. Take off again and land in Cairo finally.

It’s 7 am in Cairo. Well, looks like we're here after all...

Egypt: Travelogue (1999)

The following few posts are a travelogue I wrote about our backpacking trip to Egypt in 1999. We visited for 13 days, but I only kept notes for 10 of those. I finally got around to posting this article on my blog, after circulating it around for years in an MS Word format. I'll post some pictures eventually, once I get them scanned.