We started less early this morning with a quiet drive crossing the Nile by bridge before picking up our tour guide on the west bank. Our first stop, Valley of the Kings, doesn’t allow photography. The tour guide tells us a bit of the history of the place and then sets us free to explore on our own. We only visit 3 tombs, in various states of decay as most are not open to the public. Bill seems to be bothered by the vultures hiding in them, but I’m enjoying looking at the differences between carved and painted figures. Our guide seems pleased that I am asking the correct questions – one of the tombs we visit is unfinished, but he left that out of the original talk.
Our next stop is the ever present tourist trap that exists on every tour in every country everywhere. This one is better than most (I am looking at you, giant grocery store in the middle of nowhere, China) in that there are actually some guys outside carving the types of things being sold inside. Bill had just said last night that he thought we should ask our tour guide if he knew a good place to buy alabaster, so I guess it will do. Not that what they are selling is actually made there, though it takes a few pointed questions to get a straight answer on that. Also, they served complimentary beverages. We picked up a few baubles we liked for probably more than we should have spent, but way less than they’d cost us state side. There seems to be some gift “custom” plied on tourists where they give you a gift and you elect to give them some amount of money. I totally stiffed the guy that handed me some stone charms and a rock sample while Bill was overly generous to the other guy for a couple of scarabs so we’ll just call that even.
Our next stop involves another lecture before being set free to wander on our own after a short ride (that is consistently referred to as “the Walt Disney”). We’re the first aboard, so obviously we’re the best target for a couple of kids selling resin cats and hideous beads. I respond to every polite question with “no” including “where are you from?” Bill is less firm and gets a lecture from one of the kids about how he’s poor and we’re rich and he can’t get a job or go to school so we have to give him money to keep his family from starving. When that doesn’t work, he heads out for easier targets. After snapping a few pictures and realizing that my camera battery is critically low on charge, we head back down. The same kid greets us again to discuss his dire circumstances and try to get us to buy stuff we don’t want. I told him the problem with his argument was that it assumed I have a heart. Bill asked him why he was wasting his time on us when we obviously weren’t going to give him anything and there were plenty of other people on the car he could be talking to instead. He stuck it out with us for the entire ride anyway and was pleasant conversation all the way back while trying every button to see which one might result in a little cash (did we have kids, if he was in America he would help our people, doesn’t he look like Obama, I am sure I’ve forgotten a few). I wished him the best of luck, but still didn’t give him anything besides the chance to practice his English.
The vultures on the west bank are not nearly as annoying. Some even take no for an answer in the Valley of Queens. We aren’t allowed to take cameras into here either, so I have no images to show why using archeological sites as munitions storage is a bad idea.
We had a late lunch that is actually quite good. Our tour guide joined us, so I figured it wasn’t going to be terrible or he’d have made himself scarce. We chatted about politics and religion in relaxed tones. He is a very likeable and knowledgeable young man whose services I highly recommend if you are going to be in the area. Let me know, I have his contact info.
Our last stop is the Colossi of Memnon and then it’s back to the hotel to pack and enjoy just a bit more luxury. Several more guests have arrived since we checked in two days ago. They may be up to 35 rooms at this point. It’s starting to feel crowded. We’re headed back to the airport.
Our next stop is the ever present tourist trap that exists on every tour in every country everywhere. This one is better than most (I am looking at you, giant grocery store in the middle of nowhere, China) in that there are actually some guys outside carving the types of things being sold inside. Bill had just said last night that he thought we should ask our tour guide if he knew a good place to buy alabaster, so I guess it will do. Not that what they are selling is actually made there, though it takes a few pointed questions to get a straight answer on that. Also, they served complimentary beverages. We picked up a few baubles we liked for probably more than we should have spent, but way less than they’d cost us state side. There seems to be some gift “custom” plied on tourists where they give you a gift and you elect to give them some amount of money. I totally stiffed the guy that handed me some stone charms and a rock sample while Bill was overly generous to the other guy for a couple of scarabs so we’ll just call that even.
Our next stop involves another lecture before being set free to wander on our own after a short ride (that is consistently referred to as “the Walt Disney”). We’re the first aboard, so obviously we’re the best target for a couple of kids selling resin cats and hideous beads. I respond to every polite question with “no” including “where are you from?” Bill is less firm and gets a lecture from one of the kids about how he’s poor and we’re rich and he can’t get a job or go to school so we have to give him money to keep his family from starving. When that doesn’t work, he heads out for easier targets. After snapping a few pictures and realizing that my camera battery is critically low on charge, we head back down. The same kid greets us again to discuss his dire circumstances and try to get us to buy stuff we don’t want. I told him the problem with his argument was that it assumed I have a heart. Bill asked him why he was wasting his time on us when we obviously weren’t going to give him anything and there were plenty of other people on the car he could be talking to instead. He stuck it out with us for the entire ride anyway and was pleasant conversation all the way back while trying every button to see which one might result in a little cash (did we have kids, if he was in America he would help our people, doesn’t he look like Obama, I am sure I’ve forgotten a few). I wished him the best of luck, but still didn’t give him anything besides the chance to practice his English.
The vultures on the west bank are not nearly as annoying. Some even take no for an answer in the Valley of Queens. We aren’t allowed to take cameras into here either, so I have no images to show why using archeological sites as munitions storage is a bad idea.
We had a late lunch that is actually quite good. Our tour guide joined us, so I figured it wasn’t going to be terrible or he’d have made himself scarce. We chatted about politics and religion in relaxed tones. He is a very likeable and knowledgeable young man whose services I highly recommend if you are going to be in the area. Let me know, I have his contact info.
Our last stop is the Colossi of Memnon and then it’s back to the hotel to pack and enjoy just a bit more luxury. Several more guests have arrived since we checked in two days ago. They may be up to 35 rooms at this point. It’s starting to feel crowded. We’re headed back to the airport.
No comments:
Post a Comment