Egypt March 14: Temple of Edfu and Temple of Kom Ombo

Highlights of today’s visit are best described in pictures.

Spectacular carved pillars at The Temple of Edfu, southern Nile area where we sailed from Luxor during the night.

Ancient Egyptian women delivered their babies in an upright position using a kind of birthing chair, archaeologists have learned from this particular hieroglyph.

One religion after another, literally and figuratively. Image above was chiseled away by later invading Christians.

Ancient visitors to the temple stood opposite of the wall where Tarek now stands, and prayed out loud to the gods for some favor. A high priest, listening through a hidden tunnel below the grate above would respond. The faithful one, believing he had been spoken to by the Gods, would then pay an offering in an amount suggested by the gods.

History written on a storyboard. Above depicts treatment of locals by invading Persians who cut off an arm and fed it to lyons, then erased their faces from the story so the gods would not recognize them and allow their entry into the afterlife.

And here we end the story with the feeding of the lions!

In the afternoon we visited the Kom Ombo, unique because it houses two temples in one structure–the Temple of Sobek the ancient crocodile god, and the Temple of Harwer ( aka Horus), the falcon god. In ancient times sacred crocodiles basked in the sun near here.

Mummified remains of sacred crocodiles at the Crocodile Museum.

Talk about your wells! This deep, hand-built well measured the water level at the nearby Nile river. If the water was high it meant good irrigation for crops, thus plentiful crops, which required local citizens to pay higher offerings to the gods. This was the earliest form of taxation, an idea conceived by ancient Egyptians.

A word about the earth’s continually changing climate starts here where the banks of the Nile lapped the front door of the temple. In the past 3,000 years, it has retreated by nearly a kilometer. The Nile was also said to be several kilometers across in some locations. It is a fraction of that width currently.

Young “crocodile” in the making. I gave this sweet boy a dollar in return for his picture. He was on the street with his father and older brother learning how to aggressively sell trinkets to passerby tourists. He is 5 years old.

March 13, 2020 at The Valley of the Kings, and the Valley of the Queens

We march into and out of the tombs. Down, down, down to the end of the ramp and into the antechamber, past the death-defying shafts meant to deter trespassers and transport the sarcophagus. Along the walls the glyphs tell the stories of those buried within. Their remains have been removed long ago. Some here, some there—off to the parent country of their discoverer: England, US, Japan, Germany, and others. Archeological work is a never-ending, tedious, and continual process that unearths fresh discoveries every few months. Below I show some of their splendid discoveries.

Snakes are frequently depicted here. One task of the deceased is to battle snakes before entering the underworld.

It is quite an experience to place ones hand over a hieroglyph and trace the lines of the stone carver.

Lush gardens were thought to be present here. Above, the round darkened depressions are where ancient trees once stood. The remains of the trunk of one such tree still remains nearby, said to have been planted during the reign of Queen Nefertiti.

Interior of one burial chamber with entrance to another room. Many such rooms are present here.

3,500 year old paint still intact.

Some art work is beautifully preserved such as in this chamber.

Only after successfully overcoming the three-headed snake at right can the King (left) be allowed into the afterlife via the shaft to the burial chamber he stands upon.

On our way to enter the spectacular mortuary temple of Queen Hatshepsut. Temples were built to honor rulers, to honor gods, or to celebrate afterlife, as in the temple above, which contains chambers for high priests, embalmers, and others.

Our guide, Tarek, gives us a history lesson at the Valley of the Kings.

Spectacular statues adorn, or perhaps guard, the entrance to the mortuary temple.

Archaeological dig site at the mortuary temple. The excavated pieces have been unearthed in just the past 6 months, Tarek explains. It is now the job of archaeolgists to figure out what each piece represents, then try to put them all back together.

March 12, 2020

A strong wind sends very fine sand billowing through the air. The view from the deck of our small cruise ship–a boat that has seen better days–is murky. A sand storm. It looks like dense fog. It irritates our lungs, and burns our eyes and nostrils.

Meanwhile in far-away Cairo which we departed at 3:30 this morning, they have closed schools and businesses in anticipation of record-breaking rain–up to 300 centimeters forecast for today, this in a county that never exceeds 30 centimeters in a year.

Our guide for this part of the journey is Tarek. He is mild-mannered and funny. Wearing a light cotton sport coat and a white shirt he explains that he has never seen Luxor without sun. Today must be our day, and I am glad as I step into the tour van that I have brought along a thin scarf to cover my eyes and mouth. We are to visit the temples of Karnak and Luxor.

Our group assignment is to outmaneuver the numerous “crockodile alleys” where hawkers of every conceivable trinket employ us to part with any money we possess. The exercise is worth it, however, and for the next several hours Terak guides us through pillared stone ruins that leave us jaw-dropped and awe struck.

King Tutankhamen and his first wife, also his sister.

Hieroglyphic inscriptions tell the story of slave captives, a warning not to mess with the present ruler at Luxor. About 3,000 BC.

Wall at an Egyptian temple at Karnak, which later was held and renovated by Christians, still later by Muslims. Three architectural types expressed by their windows installed at different points in history, thousands of years apart.

Looking up toward the high-storied roof of one temple, remnants of vividly colored paint. These temples, sacred places built by generations of Egyptian rulers over thousands of years, must have been beautifully decorated.

The temples of Karnak and Luxor were linked by an avenue about 2 1/2 km long, lined on each side by 1,200 carved sphinx statues.

One of the most amazing feats of architectural splendor is the pillared temple at Luxor.

This handsome fellow is our security escort. He is armed with a fully automatic Ouzi-type weapon holstered under his jacket.

The Next Big Thing: Egypt 2020

It is March 11, I think. One so bleary-eyed can never be sure of the date after the long travel route here, the connections, security checks, the dog-sniffing security patrols, customs, immigration, baggage, meet the tour guide, and on and on. Same stuff, different country. Oh, and they have added a new stop, the health check, an infrared thermometer pointed at your forehead to pick out any would-be Coranovirus-Mary’s.

Our guide, Remon, is a young, handsome, very tall, slender gentleman. He is wearing a blue suit and wingtip shoes, a gold bracelet on his left hand. He has very lovely olive skin. As he introduces himself he welcomes us to Egypt and refers to us as ” very precious treasures”, our value is greatly increased because we had the remarkable courage (or stupidity as it were) to not cancel our travel plan in the midst of the worldwide pandemic unfolding as I write. Like it or not, we are here, about 20 in my group of precious people. Remon says early in his introduction to us ” I promise you to make you enjoy this trip”.

He provides the details of our itinerary as the bus wields its way through the dense Cairo traffic pattern–a mish-mash of converging vehicles that do not seem to observe any logical pattern whatsoever, therefore, updating my definition of “bad drivers”. Still, we arrive intact at our stately hotel where we work out the complicated instructions of the tipping protocol under Remon’s knowledgable tutelage: $1 per day per porter times 4 trips, same for the bus driver, $5 per day for him, etc. It seems a complicated scam, but overall a convenient way to work things out, assure everybody a cut, and get it over with.

Tomorrow we climb aboard the 4-day cruise down the Nile. For now, I am happy to place my weary eyes against my binoculars and search the landscape for birds, any birds that define this arid country. Below the view from my private balcony which includes a view of the Nile.

Saying Farewell

I sink into my seat and settle in for the taxi ride back to Noi Bai Airport for my destination home. Rested after a final night out on the town last evening, which consisted of Italian street food, Vietnamese coffee, and the smoke and light show of the Saturday night street performers. It is quite a spectacle and everybody shows up for this weekly bit of fun; grandmothers with infants in tow, teens smartly dressed as hand-holding couples or giggling bunches of tenage girls, all screaming at the stage, and waving flourescent glow-in-the-dark plastic tubes. It is an easy event to enjoy because they have closed off the street to traffic so the very large and boisterous crowd can relax.

I find myself a little sad at the prospect of leaving, a predicament that causes my thoughts to come into sharp focus. Here on the early morning ride the city is awakening to blue skies and more insidious humidity. Store fronts begin to open their doors and I can see motor bikes parked inside alongside store inventory safely off the street. We pass by the flower markets decked out in a mass array of color, past the army guards changing shift at the Ministry of Economics, over a massive steel bridge with repeating geometric arches and cables that provide a visual perspective making it appear endless. Then on to the main highway, a modern road, part of the former Ho Chi Minh Trail. They are burning rice fields today and smoke billows around the taxi in a low cloud.

My visit here has been such a rich cultural and personal journey I can hardly believe I arrived here just 3 weeks ago. It seems like years have passed, during which time this place has become part of me in a way few places do.

But friends and family are what always bring me back with a smile, and soon I will be home again, chattering endlessly of the things I could not describe here. I look forward to that. Thank you again for sharing this journey with me.

Addendum: At my first connection in the US, the Customs Agent says, “Welcome back to America”. His words touch me like nothing else can and i have to supress my tears. Home!

Big honkin jungle spiders!

Butterflies by the hundreds!

Ferns as big as my house!

Lizards and things.

More big honkin spiders!

Can you pick out the Walking Stick?

I Take Time for Nature

On my final sightseeing day I arrange for an overnight to Cuc Phuong National Park. To meet up with the tour I am required to be taken by motorbike to my lodging. Backup! What?? I reluctantly climb on the back of the motorbike, hold on to my driver who is holding on to my suitcase with one hand and his cell phone in the other, and before we head out I say to him “Just don’t kill me”. Of course, he laughs, thinking this is a joke.

Actually, the same thing occurred yesterday when my plans changed at the last minute, so I am a veteran on motorbike passengering now. In fact, the view is very different from the back seat. The ride feels slow, centrifugal force is non-existent, and I survived. Both times.

I am getting used to the ways of this country, honored to have been here for 3 whole weeks, and feeling meloncholy at the prospect of departing in 2 days.

I make the best of my day by visiting a few more temples, befriending people from Japan, and Latvia, and seeing some birds new to me, including 2 spectacular cranes. So I am all primed and ready to do some birding tomorrow, fueled this evening by a lovely dinner of fried spring rolls, rice, deep fried bamboo, potato wedges, sauteed bok choy, and chicken with vegetables, elegantly arranged on a platter for me by the wife of the owner of the Tam Coc Garden Homestay where I am spending the night.

The place is off the main road, down a few alleys, past a rice paddy or two, and at the end of a cement street of mostly poor homes. I venture off the Homestay grounds and quickly find myself the focal point of the neighborhood. One woman stops on her motorbike and attempts to sell me a massage, which I politely decline. A man eyes my binoculars and bursts into laughter, calls his wife to the porch and now they are both quite hysterical. I show him my bird field guide to assure him my binoculars are for watching birds, not for peeking into windows, but upon seeing the pages and pages of different birds he laughs even harder. I turn back to the street, embarrassed, and head back to the Homestay, all the while patiently reminding myself I am in a land I do not yet understand and who does not understand me.

Elena from Latvia communing with a water buffalo at Hoa Lu Temple. She and her handsome friend, Janis, have convinced me to put Latvia on my bucket list.

Stage for water puppet show.

Lovely, meditative pond.

View from Tam Coc Garden Homestay. In early morning, wild mountain goats are seen maneuvering the impossibly steep limestone karst cliffs seen in the background just above the rooftop.

Bits And Pieces

On things I find interesting here.

* In rural areas they bury their dead in the garden, in the fields, right next to the vegetable gardens or in the rice paddies.

* I have not met a Vietnamese person who understands the concept of conservation of natural resources, recycling, or why littering is unsightly to visitors. But they are all interested in this point of view.

* Birding here is not understood or practiced, but “ecotourism” is beginning to take shape here and there.

* Women visitors are addressed as madam. As in ” Would madam like coffee?”

* Shop owners live behind the storefront of their businesses. The ” back room” of the shop usually being the bedroom or living room. Some of these digs are very rough, some more elaborate. But everyone has a television, including the family we had built the house for.

* City planning is an unknown art in the Old Quarter of Hanoi, and bicycle shops are next to outdoor butchers, which are next to houses, which are next to an informal garbage dump, which is next to a community garden containing a family burial site, etc.

* In each financial transaction I have made, whether paying a hotel bill, making a purchase at a shop, purchasing a ticket to a show, or paying a restaurant tab, two or more people are involved–one to collect the money, another to observe or assist the first person. This appears to be more a cultural norm owing to the strong sense of community here rather than in place to avoid company losses. At one tourist shop, 4 women took and processed my payment together.

* There is Old Hanoi and across the river a newly emerging new Hanoi, replete with fancy homes, clean streets, and what appear to be nicely planned new neighborhoods under construction. Everywhere in the country that I have visited, new or old city, there is infrastructure being built or rebuilt, old buildings being removed, and new construction happening.

* If you should be so lucky to visit Old Hanoi, be sure to have some food at the place locally known as “Bun Cha Obama”, a noodle house where the First Family dined during the last year of his presidency. It would be akin to the Vietnamese president dining at Burger King. They are very proud of Buncha Obama’s, and yes, I did eat there. The bun cha is pretty good.

* At a park surrounding a popular lake in the old city, visitors who do not look Asian will be approached by young people with clip boards. Not to worry, they just want to practice their English by asking you a series of homework questions. Also used as learning tools are Youtube, American movies and music videos, and American TV shows. English is now taught in all schools here beginning at an early age.

* At the heart of Vietnamese economy is textile manufacturing, and one can observe rows of long buildings along the highway. Many Vietnamese leave their homes for months and years at a time to earn a living in the cities; leaving behind their small children whom they may see monthly or less often, depending on the distance. Often, both parents take such jobs, leaving droves of ” temporary orphan children” with other family members.

* Land for a small house here costs about $20k US and the construction and furnishing of a small home about $30-40k more. The bank might lend some of this, but most couples work and save the money for this, taking up to several years.

Would I return to Vietnam? Absolutely, yes!

No More Talk, Just Pictures

View from the window of my cabin as we cruise along Halong Bay in the Gulf of Tonkin.

Limestone cave tour of the largest cave in the area, Surprise Cave, where Vietnamese families hid during the Vietnam war.

At a floating oyster fishery, a woman seeds each oyster which will result in a pearl, 3-6 years from now depending on the size of pearl desired.

Oyster fishing boat.

It is too hot for me to occupy the cabin on the upper deck, so I was upgraded to a lower cabin with a jacuzzi bath. Ah shucks!

Moon over Halong Bay. Goodnight now.

Breakfast.

Early morning Tai Chi class.

Spring roll cooking class.

The cruise includes a little kayaking so I paddle around one of the limestone islands, tie up at a little beach, walk through a cave to the other side of the island, and find myself at a lovely private beach where I swim in the bath- temperature water, being mindful of any jellyfish about.

I am a pretty happy camper today!

Perhaps a little too happy? My young guide asks if I would like him to kiss me for this picture! I remind him I am old enough to be his grandmother.

Sunset over Tonkin. Back to Hanoi tomorrow.

Our last day on the boats turns out ominous clouds. I skip the planned island hike when it begins to rain and decide to sleep in.

My large bed is placed right up against the glass door. In early morning I arise to the sound of small fishing boats passing right by my bed at eye level. Awesome!

Lunch on my own back in Hanoi at, you guessed it, Kentucky Fried Chicken! Also here is Circle-K stores, Burger King, Popeye’s, and Domino’s Pizza. I am a little weary from eating so much rice, noodles, and goat meat by now. I order 2 pieces of fried chicken and a Pepsi. Cost: 38,000 dongs, or about $1.62. Then back to my hotel for the remainder of the day, Tomorrow to Ninh Minh ( pronounced ning ming) for a bike ride and temple visits.

Near the entrance to the Bai Dinh temple at Ninh Minh, the largest temple in Vietnam.

Bronze temple gong weighing 36 tons. It is rung once annually at a festival on the sixth day of the first lunar month.

Said to be the largest image of Budda in Vietnam.

Turtles are one of four sacred animals in Buddism and are said to be a symbol of good fortune.

Some 800 carved stone statues or “arhat” line the passageways of the temple. Each was carved in place, taking stoneworkers some 10 years to complete.

Not far from the temple we board sampans for a water cave tour. Where finally I see a couple of birds.

Interior of one of the caves.

Our boat drops us off at the prop of Skull Island, built for the recent remake of the movie “Kong”. By agreement with the Vietnam government, movie makers left the village intact to be used as a tourist attraction.

Back in Hanoi i discover soft serve coconut ice cream served in, well, a coconut! Cold and delicious.

Outside of Tran Quoc Pagoda, a Buddist temple build around 570, local people sell turtles. For a small fee you can purchase freedom for a turtle, which is then set free in the lake a few feet away. The concept is related to good karma. Our guide discourages us from participating in this, calling the practice an exploitation of Buddist philosophy, and explaining, “As soon as they let turtle go, they recapture it to resell”.

Groups of school children visit the resting place of Ho Chi Minh, their national hero.

Ornamental plantings at the Ho Chi Minh mausoleum, one of the few places in the city that is free of litter.

Another temple visited today, this one to honor Confucious.

Men play a game on a broad sidewalk court that uses a small ball kicked over a volleyball net with their feet. Viewed from our tour bus.

Today’s breakfast cook got creative with my egg order. Each day I order the same single egg. Each day it is presented differently.

About 20 small eateries dot each short street in Old Hanoi. As I become more familiar with the neighborhood, I venture farther from my hotel with each trip. Today I discovered a “bakery” and purchased this delight. Now, seated on my tiny plastic sidewalk chair, I am wondering exactly what I have ordered. Looks like pizza, tastes sweet, seems like cheese on top but cheese is rare here. Underneath the “cheese” is whole kernel corn, peppers and onions, and a delicate crust, probably made from rice flour…wheat is uncommon here. For 38,000 dong—about $1.40, it is a fulfilling late supper. I enjoy watching the busy nightlife on the street as traffic rushes by me.

And Now My Fun Begins

It is now my time. I might be leery about leaving my new place, the Hanoi Charm Hotel and Spa at 1b To Tich; not to be confused with The Charm Boutique Hotel & Spa at No 3 Hang Quat Str. To be sure I get to the right place, I have carefully written down the name and address of the hotel to show the cab driver. The ride, which is a short one, costs me 20,000 VND (Vietnamese dollars) which is about $2 US dollars as far as I can reckon. They greet me warmly at the hotel, as if I am a visiting dignitary–bowing, smiling, and offering me fresh pineapple and passion fruit juice upon my arrival. Then a lovely young Vietnamese woman sits me down at a table and explains the hotel policies, helps me choose tours for the balance of my stay, and answers all questions. I feel completely at home and very special, even before she shows me to my room where the queen -sized bed is bedecked in fresh rose petals arranged artistically.

After a short rest I head out on my own, courage and map in hand, and make my way down the narrow crowded streets, through the exhaustive heat that even the locals say is “too much warm here”, careful to recall landmarks so I can find my way home. I stop for iced coffee (another 20,000 dong), and purchase tickets to the water puppet show and the cultural theater, and shop for little gifts for you. There are so many interesting and inexpensive things to buy here it is hard to overcome the urge to buy more.

Tomorrow I head out to Halong Bay for the overnight cruise, then later in the week, another overnight to somewhere else, and a day trip to yet somewhere else. Where, I cannot say. I only know that all of this cost me less than $200 USD and I immediately jumped on board. I am destined to exhaust myself doing the tourist thing.

Easy to understand why this is named Charm Hotel.

On my own at dinner and wishing you were all here!

At the water puppet theater.

French architecture is prevalent in the Old Quarter of Hanoi.

It is Broiling Hot Today…

And so we try to stay out of the sun, which burns through our clothing. They have strung a tarp over the cement mixing area and we are happy enough with that for now. Yesterday it reached over 100 F in the sun, and today it is even hotter. We don’t contemplate what tomorrow will bring. I can only say we are a group sweat team and for once I am happy with having such a dull sense of smell. My nose is not completely on vacation, however, and I get whiffs here and there of the strong ammonia odor of my own boots, a combination of sweat, body salts, and who knows what else, which creates an aromatic arrangement that one team member describes as “stronger than straight-out rabid wolf piss.” Yet our sweat-combined efforts have completed the foundation, exterior walls, and one interior wall. A hard won, albeit small, new home for Huan, his parents, and soon- to- be new wife. They are beaming at the prospect, though they will have to finish the roof, plaster the walls, pour the floors, and install the windows and doors themselves. It may take them months but we have given them a worthy start. Meanwhile, we will depart today after cleaning up the site, dismantling the staging, and taking part in a short ceremony. Then the long bus ride back to Hanoi. I will be very sad to depart my teammates, now my good friends, whose comraderie I have been honored to share, and who each go separate ways– some straight home. Others, like myself, on an extended tour of the country.

I have arranged a week of R & R for myself consisting of a 3-day long boat cruise along Halong Bay, some hiking and kayaking, and sight seeing in Hanoi.

Thank you again for sharing my journey.

Exterior of the near completed two room home, with front porch.