The Feet of Ramses

Up at the crack of dawn (again!!!) today for a massive sightseeing venture to the Valley of Kings (or the Vallée des Rois, as the French tourists say), et al.

From the outside, the 63 tombs (including King Tut’s) look like little more than hobbit holes. However, it is truly amazing to descend, by means of a graduated ramp, into the tomb and see the innumerable hieroglyphics and drawings adorning the passageways and antechambers. Ongoing excavation, restoration, and safety issues mean that the tombs are rotated in terms of being open to visitors, with the standard admission ticket allowing entrance to three tombs (for 80 Egyptian Pounds- by way of contrast, my dinner this evening cost 9 Egyptian Pounds per dish). But, all the tourists leave something behind in addition to the ridiculously steep entrance fees. I read somewhere that a person endows each tomb he or she visits with an average of 2.8 grams of sweat.

After the Valley of Kings I went to Deir-al-Bahri (the Temple of Hatshepsut, pronounced like Hot-Chicken-Soup), one of my favorite sites in Egypt (and reputably one of the hottest places on earth, just as the Dead Sea is the lowest place). Since it is just on the other side of the mountain from the Valley of Kings, I decided to forego the two mile car and bus route (with an electric train to bring you from the car parks to the site), and went over the mountain instead. While this was a bit more arduous route, I gained an incredible birds-eye view of the Temple (but didn’t have my camera, as they aren’t permitted in the Valley of Kings). However, since I descended the mountain behind the ticket gates (oops) I also got harangued by the Tourism Police, who thought I was trying to get in without buying a ticket.

The best part of the day, however, was definitely visiting The Ramesseum. My driver was horrified that I would spend 30 Egyptian Pounds on what he clearly felt is an insignificant and minor ruin, totally lacking in grandeur and interest. I didn’t dare tell him that I would have gladly paid double or triple that to see the Feet of Ramses II. I can’t help it- the English Major in me comes out at the oddest moments, and so I had to stand there, before two very bewildered Filipino tourists, devotedly reciting Shelley’s sonnet:

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shatter'd visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamp'd on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

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Part of trip: Egypt and Jordan (and who knows what else?)

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