In the Black

Travel is a series of ups and downs, as everyone who's ever left their home will know. It seems like most of our time in Africa has been in the red - more downs that ups. Egypt has been in the black.

We organized a felucca trip from Aswan to Edfu for us and 6 other travelers. It was supposed to be three days and three nights. On the first day we had been sailing for no more than 20 minutes when the top boom snapped, forcing us to stop at the northern limits of Aswan town to have it repaired. Our captain said, "Half an hour." Maybe he meant until lunch because the repairs took all day. Five hours later, we set sail again. A couple of hours later, at the twilit end of sunset, the boom snapped again. This time the repair did only take half an hour. We sailed long into the night under a 3/4 moon illuminating the tall sail which arced above us to the few visible stars, all of us wearing everything in our bags and swaddled in blankets against the cold. We spend the night tied up to the river bank near a large pack of dogs that were almost hoarse from barking - almost but not hoarse. I think I slept about three hours, huddled under blankets next to my shivering husband. Somehow, it had managed to be a good day.

The next day was hazy, misty and cold. We played games, chatted, laughed, ridiculed one another and our countries, ate hot food, sipped hot tea with lots of sugar, drank beers that were too cold to hold, and sang loudly and badly. Our second night was much warmer, and the third day was clear and sunny. I was able to remove my goretex jacket. Around noon the meuzzin began their Friday call to prayer and our captain announced that we were in Edfu. A day early. There was much confusion. How did three days three nights become two nights and three half days of sailing??? My bladder took precedence over any discussions and I, with the three other women de-boated in search of a bathroom. We were immediately surrounded by a group of boys insisting that a bathroom was "Thees way" and pointing in about five different directions. We followed for a while and then decided to ditch them and try our luck asking at one of the nearby flotels. One of the young boys grabbed inappropriately at our Austrian "tea maiden" who turned and punched him hard. Meanwhile, our crowd of followers was growing: carriage drivers offered us rides; taxi drivers offered us rides; Ahwa owners offered us tea and coffee and soda; vendors tried to sell us postcards and kalabiyas and water pipes. It was an immediate, graceless transition from relaxation to tout-filled travel. I was not happy. I wanted to stay on the Nile, even with the cold eating away at my joints and making me feel like a 60 year old arthritic woman.

Declining offers of carriages and taxis, we walked through Edfu to the Temple of Horus, an immense structure most of which is still standing. Carvings or gods and pharoahs and wives and hieroglyphics. Immense columns. Graffiti in Greek. A colorful painting of a woman with a skirt of blue stars on a ceiling. A carving of Isis giving birth to Horus. And masses of tourists giving me dirty looks for elbowing my way through their groups which had completely blocked all passage through the temple.

Back to the felucca for bags and to try to explain to our captain that we were not paying the last 200 pounds we owed because the trip was 2.5 days, 2 nights instead of 3 days 3 nights. Much confusion. Much tension. Much ickiness. But it all sorted itself out... I think.

Then on to the bus station, with a following band of boys and carriage drivers telling us it was "Thees way" and pointing in about five different directions. Eventually we discovered we had to walk across the river to the main road where we would hopefully flag down a bus at the police checkpoint. When we arrived at the checkpoint 4 hot kilometers later and asked about a bus to Luxor we were told, "Maybe" by an officer with a face crinkled in doubt. Astonishingly, a bus appeared after only about 20 minutes - and we were allowed to board. There were even seats. And a movie without sound - but it was "Air Force One" so sound wasn't necessary. We stopped for half an hour in a cafe somewhere and caught the beginning of the Africa Nations Cup final: Egypt vs. Cote d'Ivoire. We left and the score was 0-0.

The bus dropped us off somewhere near Luxor, on a dark street in the countryside. Bilge Pump Bob immediately ran off to check the score: still 0-0. A taxi appeared, as they tend to do, and the driver with attendant crowd of men asked us for a ridiculous price, as they tend to do. He also claimed to have heard of the hotel we were aiming for, and then proceeded to stop to ask for directions at least three times. We were growing more and more irritable, wanting to be watching the game and/or showering and/or eating. We found the hotel which amazingly had enough rooms for all 8 of us, rooms that were clean and affordable. Most importantly, there was a TV in the lobby - and the score was still 0-0. The game went to penalty kicks when the Egypt goalkeeper stopped not one but two balls, winning the game for Egypt. Oh the honking celebrations! The flag waving! The shouts of Masr! The mad, sober revelry! I can only imagine that all of Cairo was turned into one hootin' tootin' parking lot.

We found a restaurant for dinner which served $1.25 roast chicken and $2.00 berbekio (bbq) which was delicious. Then we all collapsed into our warm beds with comfortable pillows realizing that despite the downs of the previous few days, we were still in the black.