At 3:30am the ship’s night purser rang my cabin with a wakeup call for our 4am departure to our hot air balloon ride at dawn. Having had the opportunity on multiple mornings here in Egypt to be awoken by the amplification of the dawn prayers, I had no problem informing the kids when asked that dawn is indeed at roughly 4:45am. Our driver, I regret to inform you, picked us up and announced that we would be stopping to pick up 9 guests from another ship on our way. You can imagine my dismay and Livvy and Justin’s confusion at having the sanctity of our private transport violated by strangers, we were clearly not in Aiymen’s protection anymore. Not surprisingly this driver offered no warm morning greeting not Purel, clearly not half the man that Aiymen is. We decided to press on and smiled politely at the freeloaders as they gained access to the van. Within 20 minutes we had arrived at the port where we boarded small wooden scarf-draped motor boats that would carry us from the east bank of the Nile to the west. There were 10 boats docked one behind the other parallel to the dock so that you had to climb through one to get to the second and so on. Each boat had a table set with tea cups and saucers and a foil wrapped piece of heavily sweetened pound cake, this was referred to as “a light breakfast” by the guide. After only having to move boats 3 times, allowing Justin the opportunity to amass 6 pieces of cake (Livvy didn’t care for hers) and Justin felt it was only fair due to the inconvenience we’d been caused, we were off. Aboard the boat we were introduced to the balloon pilot who in fact wore a pilot’s starched white shirt with gold shoulder stripes below his flap jacket, likely acquired on eBay.egt. The pilot explained in heavily accented English that the balloon ride was “ahbas-ahlutely saehfe” and then proceeded to demonstrate the “eemeergehency lending pozitiohn” which was “veery veery eemporohrtant to avoideed dregging ov bah-loon in dezert and zen cresh.” Livvy thought this was hilarious and kept repeating, “This is so safe, totally safe, now here’s your emergency landing position.”
We then boarded a mini-van filled with American tourists on a senior citizen tour of Egypt. The kids chatted excitedly to the octogenarians, especially a lovely 85 year old gentleman from Boston who lives near Concord, MA where Chloe will be attending school in the fall. We arrived at the launch site from which the balloons would take off, which was perched beside a wheat field being harvested by local farmers with sicles in hand, and was strewn with beautifully wrapped bundles of wheat set out to dry in the quickly rising sun. The air field was strewn with 40 locals dressed in Sihnbad Balloons blue jumpsuits busy attending to 3 balloons laying on the earth and moving small pickup trucks with the baskets and enormous fans and tanks of helium into position. After the 6 guides sized the tourists up (literally and figuratively as the balloons need to be balanced by equal weight in each of the 4 compartments that hold roughly 4-5 people in each compartment) and some lengthy deliberations by the various guides as to who should be placed in which balloon based upon rudimentary weight estimations we were divided up into smaller groups of 5. Livvy, Justin and I were placed with Leo and Nathan, an adorable New York couple on the seniors tour who were dressed head to toe in their newly acquired Egyptian finery, and cracking non-stop La Cage au Folle style quips. “If we start to fall from the sky, you and your gorgeous children just hang on to me darling, I’m a fairy so I can fly. Oh haaah haaah haah!”
There was a mild wind but apparently even the slightest wind poses a severe danger for hot air ballooning so we were made to wait and wait and wait as the guides and balloon crews observed the weather and exchanged hand gestures and remarks. The sun rose and we watched as one balloon after another attempted to gain lift off and were elated when indeed the balloons began to fill the morning sky. There was a multicolored striped balloon that Leo spied and called out excitedly, “Look Nathan, a “pride” balloon!” We were individually carried pharaoh style (as if seated upright) into the balloon basket by the jumpsuit clad crew and when all were aboard the pilot began a complicated set of maneuvers involving terrifically hot blasts of helium and shouting wildly at the crew and driver of the pickup truck to which the balloon was chained. One of the crew unhooked us from the truck just as a gust of wind suddenly blew and immediately we were tipping over, the pilot began to shout “eemeergehency lending pozitiohn” “eemeergehency lending pozitiohn”, so we all crouched down into our positions. The crew managed to re-hook us to the pickup and righted the basket so no one fell out and the pilot already dripping with sweat gave the truck driver a tongue lashing that was to be admired. I don’t know what the driver had done but it was obviously very very bad. Quickly regaining his composure, the pilot shouted out more instructions and soon we were told “stend uhpe, stend uhpe” and suddenly we were floating above the ground. Apart from the sound of the intermittent helium blasts into the balloon, it was absolutely silent and stunning. We floated over the Valley of the Kings and could appreciate the majesty of the temples as well as the proximity of Nile and the desert. We floated deeper into the desert and the pilot announced, “veery veery wihindy so when we find saefe plece to lend, we lend, okay?” Everyone quickly nodded in agreement. After 25 minutes of serene beauty we descended into what can only be referred to as a pseudo-crash landing on the desert floor, utilizing our “ eemeergehency lending pozitiohn” twice more before setting permanently on the ground. We wondered how we would be found and returned to safety as we stood in the basket smiling nervously at one another surrounded by nothing but sand and sky, and then suddenly from the distance and seemingly out of nowhere, emerged a pickup truck filled with our blue-jumpsuited saviors. The passengers all began to clap spontaneously. The heroes leaped from the truck and ran toward the basket at full speed although it appeared to us as if in slow motion just like a re-enactment of the famous scene in the film “Backdraft” when the firemen storm the burning building. Half the men secured the balloon while the other half proceeded to rescue/lift the passengers out of the basket and onto the desert floor where we were then guided to the waiting mini-buses.
Elated and relieved we bid the crew farewell and tipped them handsomely before heading in our separate directions.
Next we headed to the Valley of the Kings where Walid, who by now was seriously getting on all of our nerves, was awaiting our arrival. We took an open air parking shuttle tram (think Disneyworld parking lot shuttle) from the entrance up the hill to where the tomb entrances are located. We waited in the shade while other guides explained the history of the various tombs and what to expect within to their guests and Walid chatted with a group of his friends. Guides are not allowed inside the tombs with tourists so they must wait outside while you visit which is why they are supposed to give you a full explanation and set up in the shaded area beforehand. We then entered 3 different tombs, 1 more impressive than the next, and Livvy and Justin played a game of “Eye Spy” in each tomb using the bright colors of the amazingly preserved hieroglyphics. We lost Walid twice as he jetted from friend to friend but luckily the other guides were very well informed and I was able to translate a particularly gifted French guide’s explanations for the kids. Having visited Tutankamen’s treasures at the museum in Cairo we decided to skip his rather tiny tomb (the Kings began building their tombs the moment they ascended to power, so the longer you reigned the more elaborate your tomb, Tut ruled for less than 10 years so his tomb is very small and rather unimpressive compared to Ramses the IV who ruled for more than 20 years for example). Justin wanted to walk through the market at the bottom of the hill before getting back in the car, so we did. He found a lovely alabaster box for Chloe and we enlisted Walid’s help to negotiate with the merchant. When the price got down to a reasonable level and I began to nod, Walid made an additional comment in Arabic of course to the merchant, who then politely said “La, La,” which means no, no. Walid then told us the deal was off and to walk away, so we did and all of a sudden Walid was surrounded by at least 20 of the merchants who were holding Walid hostage it appeared for some grave injustice he had committed and Walid began screaming at the top of his lungs what were obviously obscenities. The volume and fury escalated and I feared it would come to blows or knives, really. Soon the Tourist Police were summoned by another merchant and more shouting and spitting ensued with Walid still unable to free himself from the circling crowd of angry merchants. Walid was visibly out of control, bright red in the face and apparently scared, yet it appeared from our vantage point that he had been the wrong doer with whatever it was he had said to the merchant. Suddenly Walid was marched off by the Police and we were alone in the market.
The original merchant approached us slowly with a friend and told us not to worry that this was a joke and that our guide will be back. I replied that this was obviously not a joke and asked what happened. The friend told us that in this market they do not pay commission to guides and yet our guide was demanding a commission or we would not buy anything. It all made perfect sense. Walid had told us the deal was off but in fact the price for us had been agreed to, it was the price for him that was the problem. I paid the merchant the sum we had agreed upon before the rumble broke out and he gratefully accepted the cash and kept us company until the Police returned with Walid some 15 minutes later. Still red in the face and visibly agitated, Walid suggested we leave the market. The kids now understood what had transpired and seeing as they were pretty sick of Walid anyhow, Justin decided to have some fun and asked Walid what happened. Without missing a beat, Walid said that “Someone had insulted your mother and no one insults one of my guests and so I showed them who is in charge and how to treat tourists. Everything is fine now.” Justin pressed on, “What did he say?” toying with Walid. “uhmm, nothing to be repeated,” replied Walid and Justin glanced my way smiling and giving me the “yeah, I’ll bet” look.
We hopped in the van and headed to the Temple of Hatshepsut at El-Deir. It was very hot and there was a good climb required to make it to the temple from the entrance. Walid told us to go ahead and he would wait for us in the café. I feigned surprise and asked “Oh, are guides not allowed to enter this temple either?” to which Walid replied, “Oh no we are allowed, I can come with you if you like,” he relented, and I told him that would be just lovely. Justin gave me another big grin. We spent the afternoon by the pool on board and then at 6pm headed to Luxor town to see the temple of Luxor and visit the night market where I decided I would do my own negotiating. We met a lovely sculptor who was working on a refined and impressive granite sculpture of Ramses I. We’d seen nothing of this quality on our entire trip and Livvy, Justin and I all stopped to admire him as he chiseled away. We told him how beautiful his work was and he responded in perfect English that he appreciated the compliment and had traveled to 14 countries around the world to exhibit his work in galleries. I asked whether he had studied sculpture in Egypt and he said that he was self-taught, and that this was his passion from the age of 9. This was no ordinary street vendor. He seemed particularly enamored of Justin, and told us that his son was the same age and that he’d like to give Justin a gift for free and with no obligation as it was his pleasure to welcome us in his country and share his art with us. He took a black granite scarab and had Justin write his name in English, and then chiseled the hieroglyphic translation of Justin’s name onto the scarab. He then did the same for Livvy and was delighted when I asked to snap a few photos. I bought a beautiful alabaster dish from him and he insisted on chiseling my name on the back of it as well. Justin was so touched by this kind gesture from a stranger in a very strange land and as we said good bye and walked away he whispered to me, “Mom that was the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
We enjoyed dinner with the other passengers on the boat as for the first time, Walid did not come down to dinner. Justin and Livvy learned a 21 card trick from Ned the lovely Englishman and his wife Marcia who now live in Spain, and a cute toothpick trick from Robert and Franklin who live in New York. “They were really nice people didn’t you think Mom?”
And off to bed…
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