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Sunday 30th January After having such a hard time of it on the coast road, we had decided to cycle only as far as Safaga where we could get a bus into the Nile, rather than continuing south to Al Quesir. Although there are 3 roads from the Red Sea to the Nile, the Safaga road was the only one tourists are permitted to take and under no circumstances were we allowed to cycle it. Typically, after being told we had to take a bus by the police, the man in the ticket office told us 'no bikes'. Thankfully, an Egyptian guy who spoke English told us that if we waited for the bus to arrive we could probably sort something out with the driver. The first bus to arrive was one to Qena, the first town on the Nile. They agreed to take our bikes, but handled them very badly. We were especially angry when a young lad kicked them hard so that the door could close. Kate had to refrain from kicking him herself! The road wound up through the mountains of the Eastern Desert away from the sea towards the fertile Nile Valley. Had we been able to cycle, the road would have been tough but enjoyable as the desert was relatively clean and unscarred. Also the descent towards the Nile would have been incredible. The journey took about 2 hours (most of the time we were worrying if the bikes were okay) and the driver irritatingly insisted on dropping us well before the actual bus station, leaving us on a busy street, trying to find our bearings. As it was it wasn't too far and we were soon at the local train station. We had the choice of going to Luxor or Aswan. The police do not allow foreigners to stay in Qena as they believe it's too dangerous, and as soon as they realised we were there, they were very eager to find us a train out of there. Not wanting any more police hassle and having not enjoyed most of our riding in Egypt, we decided to go straight to Aswan where we could leave our bikes before visiting the rest of the sites by public transport. At the train station, there was an American couple, Christine and Charles, who were also being shepherded by police. They'd decided to go to Aswan too, so we set about getting tickets for the next possible train. Normally, foreigners are only allowed on particular tourist trains, but the police were so eager for us to leave, that after Kate having a big shouting match at the ticket office with a group of rude Egyptian men, in which the police had to intervene, we ended up getting tickets in 3rd class on the next 'locals' train. Luckily, there was a pair of strong cleaners willing to earn some 'baksheesh' for carrying our bikes across the tracks to the next platform before the train arrived at 7 o clock. The carriage we were on stank of toilets and unusual smells. We were forced to sit by the door between the carriages so that we could keep an eye on our bikes, which were receiving a lot of unwanted attention from shifty looking Egyptians. This meant that every few seconds, Paul was having to shut the door after someone had passed through to keep out the noise and the smell coming through the door. The aisle was constantly busy with people selling sugar cane, walking sticks, tea and nuts. What was also a little disconcerting was that the external door to the carriage had no catch so swung open for the whole journey. For fear of bikes and bags going 'walkies' (either out through the open door or in someone's roaming hands) we stayed awake for the whole journey. Let's just say that riding 3rd class in an Egyptian train is not a calm or comfortable option and an experience we never hope to have again, especially with our bikes - the journey lasted 4 and a half hours. It was nearly midnight when we emerged from Aswan station, tired and hungry. We went to a local pizza takeaway to grab a bite to eat and this was where we said goodbye to Christine and Charles, who were just hanging around before catching the 3.30am tourist police-convoyed bus to Abu Simbel. After eating our pizza in the park and donating some to a few cheeky local lads, we set off to find a hotel for the night. We went straight to the New Abu Simbel Hotel and luckily they had a free room even if it was only available for two nights. It was also only 15 Egyptian pounds. After sorting out our bikes and carrying the luggage to our room, we settled down exhausted and fell asleep. Monday 31st January We slept well, but Paul was abruptly woken in the morning by the need to go to the toilet. He discovered he had diarrhoea again. The shared bathroom we had was not that great and couldn't cater to Paul's needs so we decided we had to leave as soon as possible to find somewhere else to stay. When we went down to pay, the price which we had confirmed in Arabic the night before, had mysteriously gone up to 50 Egyptian pounds, far more than we would have agreed to pay for the room we had. We were very angry but no amount of arguing could make him change his story - that this was the price we had been told the night before. We quickly packed up and set off on our search only to find that this was school holidays and Aswan's peak season. Every hotel we tried was full and even if they had got spaces, the prices had gone right up. After checking out one hotel, we got chatting to a family from Cairo who spoke French. Whilst Kate entertained the rest of the family and had numerous photos taken, Paul went off with one of the men who eventually helped him find an available room. The room wasn't great and it was out of our budget but we felt we had no choice. The receptionist refused to believe we had cycled from England and then told us she had nowhere to put our bikes - and we could only stay for one night. Whilst Kate tried to reason with her, Paul went off again to try one last hotel. This time we were in luck. The Abu Shelib Hotel is a small, cheap but relatively clean place with friendly staff. We got ourselves a room overlooking the souq with ensuite and a great shower for 30 Egyptian pounds. This was just right and allowed Paul to spend the rest of the day trotting to and fro between the big double bed and the toilet! No food for him then. Even Kate only popped out for a few supplies and so both of us got some well-needed rest and read most of our latest books. Tuesday 1st February 4436.9miles, Aswan, Egypt Finally, we're back in a cafe writing the diary. This is an Egyptian teahouse and nothing like the places we've spent most of our diary writing time in earlier in the trip. Like in the rest of the Middle East, it's only frequented by men so Kate is a bit of an oddity here. We're in Aswan, the most southerly town in our journey in Egypt, at the northerly tip of Lake Nasser, and now at the beginning of our penultimate month. We're in the part of the bustling souq, where you can't walk 5metres without somebody demanding your attention - but if you keep it good humoured it's actually quite good fun. There are hundreds of stalls lining the dusty potholed streets, selling everything from touristy kitsch to herbs and spices, vegetables, fruit and carcasses of meat. There's a kaleidoscope of colours, with bright tie-dye clothes, scarves, 'gelabayas', sequined headpieces and brightly coloured jewellery. Again, battered old cars, skinny donkeys trailing their carts and traders fight for space in these cramped streets, and there's always one or two shoe-shiners determined to clean shoes, even our sandals! Despite the persistence of the traders, we feel relatively comfortable in this busy atmosphere. Maybe we're just starting to handle Egyptian life (but we've yet to sample Luxor, renowned for being Egypt's 'hassle capital'!). After a day of no food and lots of fluid, Paul's stomach seems to have settled today (fingers crossed!) so we're about to head out and explore the town. As it turned out, that evening we bumped into Jorg and Sonja again. They are the two German cyclists who we met briefly in Cairo and who were staying in our hotel. They had gone through the full permission application procedure for cycling down the Nile which had taken them a good week's worth of time and patience, waiting for the permission to be translated and the required detailed itinerary to be accepted. It seems that after one day's cycling and only 120km their passage by bicycle was stopped and they were forced by the police to continue south by public transport. In hindsight, we feel that we made a good decision in taking the Red Sea coast, although we were unable to cycle all the way. It's just such a shame that the police are making it so difficult for independent travellers. We agreed to meet up with them the next day for a trip out to the islands in the Nile. Wednesday 2nd February We enjoyed a late breakfast together and then set off on the ferry to Elephantine Island, home to two Nubian villages. This is where some of the Nubians from the Nile Valley were displaced to after the building of the first dam south of Aswan. The change in atmosphere from the hectic streets of Aswan to the relaxed villages was startling. The villages are delightfully bright, colourful and peaceful places with very narrow dusty streets and brightly painted mud brick houses. The villages are fringed with palm groves and lush green fields. We must have spent a couple of hours wandering around, getting lost in the maze of streets, taking in the atmosphere. The people we met round almost every single corner were predominantly women and children - the Nubian men are almost all 'felucca' captains, spending most of their time trying to pick up business on the Aswan side of the Nile. The women were all dressed in black and sat together in groups on the doorsteps of their houses. Some were tending to the goats and the chickens that ran frantically through the streets. Many of the children were speeding about on an assortment of bikes, always giggling away. Compared to the Egyptians, the Nubian people were far more friendly and laid-back. Their smiles didn't seem to hold any hidden agenda (as has sadly been the case with so many people in this country) and were quite contagious! After wandering around the island we visited the Ruins of Abu at the northern end. There was a small very basic museum and a jumble of ruins including two 'Nilometers' used to predict the success of the coming harvest. This didn't take long and afterwards we popped into the House of Captain J.J. who had been recommended to us for felucca trips. Over a complimentary cup of Nubian tea (the same as any other tea!) he gave us information about the trip we could take. It sounded good and the price was reasonable so we agreed to leave on one with him on Friday. All we needed to do was come back at 5pm the next day (Thursday) to meet the other passenger and pay a deposit. Unfortunately, Jorg and Sonja were heading off to Hurghada for two weeks diving so couldn't make it. We did try persuading them and nearly succeeded but the lure of the blue turquoise waters and sandy beaches was too much! On the other side of the island, after a bit of haggling, we managed to get a rowboat to take us across to Kitchener Island. The island was given to Lord Kitchener in the 1890's when he was Consul-General of Egypt and Commander of the Egyptian army. He was a bit of a plant buff and turned it into a botanical garden, importing plants from all over the world. On a quiet day, it must be really beautiful but on this particular day it was full with both western and Egyptian tourists and so the peaceful atmosphere was slightly spoiled. Across the river there were stunning views of feluccas sailing past, their huge white sails billowing in the wind, against a backdrop of large sandy mountains reaching right down to the water. As the sun went down, we sat on the roof of a ferry that brought us back to the mainland where we could get some food, having not eaten all day. It had been a pleasant day, far removed from the hassle of the last couple of weeks and it was nice to finally get to know Jorg and Sonja. It was back to business later that night, swotting flies and mosquitoes before settling down to sleep! Thursday 3rd February Jorg and Sonja had left early the next morning leaving us with no distractions from keeping us doing our chores. Most of the day was taken up either with Internet or shopping. We were honing our bargaining skills and bought Kate a new long sleeved top for Sudan, some flip flops for the boat (we couldn't subject our fellow passengers to Kate's smelly sandals!), some replacement earrings (if she loses these ones that's it!) and Paul got himself a cap (a balding head doesn't really appreciate the sun!). Our evening meeting with Captain J.J. was less than successful, as he never actually turned up! We ended up speaking to his brother who wasn't sure what was going on but promised us that J.J. would ring us that evening at 8 o'clock. At 8 o clock, we were sitting in our hotel, eating take away koshary. At 9 o'clock, we went up to bed; in fact captain J.J. never rang and we'd already paid our 60 Egyptian pounds deposit. Friday 4th February The next morning Paul was on the ferry to Elephantine Island at 8.00am to find out what was going on. It turned out that J.J. had forgotten to ring us but he had arranged for a friend of his to take us and two others out on his felucca starting at 12 o'clock that day. We were more than a little bit disappointed with the service and we hadn't even got onto the felucca yet. Luckily, we had packed our bags the night before and had already made arrangements with the hotel to leave our bikes and the rest of our bags whilst we were away. The two other people turned out to be Dave and David, both from the States and we were all met by Captain Ganja just after midday. This is when we found out that our boat was going to have twelve people not four! When we arrived at the boat, we proceeded to have arguments about where we were going, the price and purchase of drink and the cost of the transport at the other end. All of these things we had already agreed with Captain J.J. in advance. Not a good start. Slowly everyone else arrived. There were three more American lads, fresh out of high school called Ryan, Jeremy and Jimmy; Santi a cheeky lad from Argentina and Arthur and Sharon from South Africa. Unfortunately, Arthur and Sharon's friends who were to make up the twelve were both ill and couldn't make it. This did mean though that we had more space on the already cramped boat. Eventually, after having bought water, beer and some snacks, the boat set sail an hour and a half late. We were soon served falafel, salad and bread for lunch. How this would come close to serving twelve we don't know as it was hardly enough for the ten of us. The rest of the afternoon we chilled out, lying on the padded deck, watching the river flow past and taking in the scenery. We started to get to know everyone on the boat although the three lads and David spent much of their time smoking the naughty stuff in a cubbyhole in the bow of the boat. This in fact became a regular and annoying occurrence. We couldn't understand why they had come if all they were going to do was get stoned under the deck. Also, one of the lads who we nicknamed Piggy had no concept of sharing food and regularly piled his plate with more than double what anyone else had before taking seconds. The rest of us always finished a meal unsatisfied having not eaten enough. It sounds like we didn't really enjoy the felucca trip at all and to be honest, we were very disappointed with the organisation, the captain and the catering. We did though have a good time; Dave, Santi, Arthur and Sharon were really good fun and Kate and Sharon spent hours giggling away together. On both evenings, we moored on a bank, and collected firewood for an after-dinner fire. To do this on the first night, we had to climb a steep sandy bank which is where Paul found out through first hand experience how sharp elephant grass is. Oops! That night though, our little group was tired and left the boys and our crew to smoke around the fire while we sat on the boat, drank beer and chatted. Saturday 5th February Expecting the boat to leave at a reasonable time, we both got up pretty early the next morning and ended up being invited on board a neighbouring felucca for a morning cup of tea. Captain Sahid and Ramadan were far more conscientious than our captain and his assistant Ahmed who didn't surface until gone 10 o'clock, having smoked too much the night before! With our captain still sleeping and our little group awake we set about cleaning up the boat and getting it ready for a day's sailing. We had expected something a little different for the money we had paid and again were not impressed. It was another pleasant day on the water and we spent lots of time just snoozing, reading and chatting. At least one bit of the trip was as we'd expected. Palm trees lined the river, forming part of a green strip where we saw donkeys, cows, camels and dogs grazing or lazing in the sun. We saw very few people apart from a group of cheeky schoolboys who sang and chanted to us with demands for 'baksheesh'! We also saw scores of cruise ships go past; the MS Sudan was one of these. It's a little more expensive than our six pound fifty for two days felucca ride at over 800 euros a night! We moored up that night, just outside Kom Ombo. There were a group of Egyptians playing a game of football on the bank as we set about collecting wood. The fire was a little more successful that evening, although the captain's very limited repertoire of camp songs soon had the non-smokers in our midst heading for the cover of the boat where we entertained ourselves making shadow puppets on the canvas shelter and looking after Sharon's leg after she slipped over wearing socks...doh! Paul and Kate x
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Challoner's, Fasiledes, Amersham, Buckinghamshire