Tombed out of my mind!

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While I wholly appreciate Egypt and its ancient culture and accomplishments, I have to say that I'm kind of sick of tombs. Maybe its the tour groups, maybe the temperature, maybe a combination of the two, but man, if I don't see another tomb for the rest of my life, I'd still die a happy, satisfied man. After the viewing the amazing feat at Abu Simbel, Nicola and I headed back into town. We had an early departure the following morning at 7am. We were going to make our way to Luxor, but first, we arranged to stop at 2 more sites along the way; Edfu and Komo Ombo. The fees to see all these sites really add up quickly. Both sites were impressive, of course, but repetitive. Besides, being told we only had a half an hour and hour, respectively, added to my angst.
After seeing both sites, we finally arrived in Luxor. It has the reputation of being the hassle capital of Egypt, meaning the hawkers and touts are in abundance here. That was not my definition of fun, but I had to see the Valley of the Kings and Queens, at the very least. Again, I chose a hotel according to the guidebook's recommendations. It had served me well so far. We got off the minibus at a central location near the hostel I chose. No sooner did we set foot on Luxor's soil were we then hounded by hoteleers (my word) offering an excellent place to stay. I asked him directions to my hotel and he actually obliged and offered me a paper brochure to his hotel. Another gentleman stated the hotel I chose was full, a common tactic among owners and their lackeys. We walked to our hotel and from the outside, it looked run down and dilapidated, but then again, so did most of the narrow streets of Luxor. We were traveling with a couple from Germany. The husband was a German physicist, the woman a doctor. They were headed out on a train to Cairo later the same evening and had asked us earlier if we would split a taxi to the Temple of Karnac. We agreed, but also wanted to eat, as we were all famished. The hotel owner was unsure if there would be a room available until later in the afternoon, so we left our things and headed to a restaurant down the street form the hotel.
We munched on a well deserved lunch and hailed a cab to the temple. The temple was huge, covering a vast area. It took us a good 2 hrs. to see almost everything. the heat was oppressive at this point. All I wanted to do was get back to the hotel and shower. We left the couple at the museum and headed back to the hotel. Unfortunately, no rooms were available, but we were offered a spot on the roof for 10 Egyptian pounds, which included breakfast and unlimited internet. Nicola was hesitant, but I was all up for it. We decided to take a look. The roof had a small bar and tables with chairs. It also had a large area with mattresses and pillows, anchored in the center by a small television. There were about 10 people up there, a group of Asians playing cards at a table, and some Americans reading and writing while seated on the floor mattresses. I was okay with staying here, especially since it would cost less than $2 US.
Nicola didn't exactly have to be coaxed, but I made it clear that this is where I wanted to stay. She reluctantly agreed, seeing as it was my first and last night in Luxor. I would be heading to Dahab the next evening, a grueling 16 hr. bus ride North. The rest of the afternoon, we lounged on the roof. I met a large group of students studying at the american University in Cairo. A majority of them were actually from the DC area, attending schools like George Mason and Georgetown. Most of the students were upperclassmen studying politics or business. It was a long way to come to meet people from my own town. Nicola fell asleep while I chatted with a few of them. I began talking tot he owner's brother, an Egyptian named Atta. He was friendly and offered me his whiskey and coke and some wine. We talked for the rest of the afternoon, as the sun gradually set over the city. I was invited to dinner by one of the girls from American University. I thankfully accepted, since it had been so long since lunch by this point. I also invited Atta, but he felt awkward, since he would be the only Egyptian. I told him that it would be okay because he was my guest. I could see however, how that would make him feel uncomfortable...20 Americans and 1 Egyptian having dinner together at a restaurant.
After a long ass wait destined to occur when trying to accomplish anything with 20 people, we finally headed out. Upon Atta's suggestion, a small group of us headed to Ali Baba's, a reataurant not too far from the hotel. It was located on the corner of a major intersection, with tables that overlooked the street. We all tried to squeeze into a large table, but unfortunately, Atta was the odd man out. He sat at a 2-person table next to us, alone. I invited him to pull up an extra chair, but he refused and sat at his own table. Nicola tried to coax him to sit with us, but everone else pretty much ignored him. i thought that was classless, as they chatted away by themselves. I got up and sat with Atta. He told me that he was okay sitting alone, but that just wasn't right and I had no interest in hearing the group's idle chatter. Atta seemed grateful for the gesture and I was happy to do it. I was somewhat aggravated that no one, besides Nicola, made an attempt to include Atta in the group. Atta and I chatted quite a bit. Although he was slightly drunk, our conversation triggered some introspective thoughts. We talked about the definition of a man, in the truest sense of the word; being responsible, patient, caring,...all the qualities that truly make a man, but that is lacking, especially in the West. The topic gave me reason to reflect on my own virtues and lack thereof. I realized that I could improve in all aspects of my own life.
We toasted several times, laughed heartily, and discussed seriously for a couple of hours. I wholly ignored, unintentionally, the conversations occuring next to us. Atta observed one of the girls at the table next to us and began criticizing her for speaking too much. In his opinion, she wanted to seem like she was above the group. "Why she talk so much?", he asked numerous times. I laughed at his comments. he was obviously drunk and letting off some steam. Nicola sat with us later on. She was obviously perturbed by the group. Atta made a few comments directed at her, but she took it lightly and defended herself well. Atta offered to pay for dinner, not a cheap sum. I told him that I would pay my way, but he looked at me with a serious stare, as if not letting him pay would offend him. I gave in and thanked him. It was an extremely nice gesture and one that showed the utmost respect for me as a person and as a man. I appreciated it deeply. After dinner, Atta wanted to take me to see the real Egypt. Confused at what he meant, he persuaded me to get another drink, without the group. By this time, it was late and I was extremely tired. I told him that I would get one more drink. We separated from the group, Atta and I walking down some unfamiliar streets. I didn't know what I was getting myself into and my own stereotypes and fears triggered some hesitation. However, I paid attention to what my inner self was telling me: no neck hairs raised, no goosebumps. I honestly did have a few doubts, as he was leading me behind dark back alleys and storefronts. Then again, the whole area was dark alleys and storefronts. On the way, he met aolder gentleman, maybe a poor homeless fella that he knew. It seemed as if Atta was collecting some money from him. He put his arm around him and was speaking Arabic. Was I witness to Atta collecting protection money? He chatted with him for quite a while. Eventually, Atta took him to a liquor store and bought him a bottle of whiskey. Later, Atta told me that he tried to help out the man because he was poor and in need. I was relieved.
Atta took me to a local hotel. We walked downstairs from the lobby and into a bar located in the basement. It was well lit with long, bright white bulbs, but smoky. The waitresses were pretty, heavy set women in clothing a size too small. Egyptian men sat across from each other at small tables and a bar was located behind a pillar on the left. It looked like a house's basement rec. room. We sat at a table next to a pillar. Atta greeted the women and called two over. He said something in Arabic, pointing to me. They smiled and introduced themselves, as I greeted them in Arabic. Surprised, they spoke to me in their language, but i told them that my Arabic was limited to basic greetings. From what i gathered, they were belly dancers. Atta wanted me to see them in action but that night was not the night for dancing. I was content to just drink my Stella and get back to the hotel. We sat for a while and chatted some more, smoking the occasional cigarette. Earlier, I had mentioned to Atta that I would buy a bottle of wine or liquor and drink with him on the roof. We left the underground bar and walked to the liquor store we had seen earlier. I purchased a bottle of Egyptian wine and we headed back to the hotel. We shared the bottle of wine and some conversation. The students from DC were up in full force, sitting in a circle on the roof. We joined them. By this point, I was dead tired and had an early start in a few hrs. later. I was headed to Dahab. Atta was in rare form, mocking some of the American girls, criticizing them in good fun. They didn't see it that way, but I was chuckling inside. What a night. I finally went to sleep and left a full beer Atta had ordered for me after finishing the bottle of wine. That same morning would bring me new adventures on the Sinai Peninsula.
I said my goodbyes to Atta, his brother, and Nicola a few hours later. I had so much fun with them, but it was time to move on to new people and places. I had prearranged a taxi to the bus station. A young couple was headed to Dahab as well, so i let them tag along with me. I was not looking forward to the estimated 16 hr. ride, though when asked, the ride could apparently last longer. Great, i thought. After loading our luggage onto the bus, we headed off on our journey. The 16 hr. bus ride became a 22 hr. bus ride. I slept on and off most of the way, chatting with other backpackers en route. On my journey, i met Aaron, a thin, bearded guy in his mid tweties from San Fran. He recently quit his job and decided to travel indefinitely. This green eyed monster called jealousy reared its ugly head yet again. We hit it off pretty quick. i also met another traveler, a Canadian living and working in Holland. His name escapes me, but his personality yelled "I'm ashamed of being Canadian!" Aaron and I detected self esteem issues. Aaron had actually hung out with him prior to the bus ride and he had the same impression.
It seemed like forever, but after a few stops, annoying hawkers and people trying to charge me to use the public restrooms, we finally arrived. Aaron didn't book a place to stay. Nor did I. I used the trusty guidebook and found a place near the water. He agreed to stay in the same cheap hotel. We took a cab into town and walked to our destination. Dahab was beautiful and a site for sore eyes. Open air eateries were lined up one after the other, right on the beach. Everey establishment on the beach was some sort of restaurant bar. Beach chairs and umbrellas lined the seaside in front of the restaurants. No building was above 3 stories. It had a definite small town feel with a beautiful boardwalk and hotels opposite the eateries on the other side. I was tired, but excited. We decided to chill on the beach all day. We secured our rooms. i paid about $8/night for a simple stone hut with double beds. Aaron did the same, about 2 doors down. We immediatley changed and headed straight for the boardwalk, about 25 yeards from our hotel. The most difficult part of the day was going to be what restaurant to lounge at. After a brief walk up and down, we chose one and seated our butts on beach chairs. It was time for beer, good food, and some sheesha.

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