Saharan Drive

Thom, Sari and I boarded a van that took us 185 miles south through the eastern Sahara to Abu Simbel, not far from the border with Sudan.  Min, Sari's guide for the day, knew how to get the desolation money shot

. . . but I think Sari threw him for a loop after they enjoyed a second cup of tea.  She told him to tell the driver to step on it!

After all, the journey requires a special permit from the Egyptian government because the desert bordering Lake Nasser lies in a high security zone.  It reminded me of the road trip my family made to Berlin in the early 60s.  If we hadn't reached the American zone by a certain time, East Germany would have sent the polizei to find us.

We stopped at the Mirage, or "Fake Lake" Cafe for a pee break.

Egyptian currency emphasizes a cultural hierarchy, with the Sphinx and the Pyramids on the higher denomination notes.  King Tut's royal mask appears on one pound coins while Cleopatra adorns 50 piasters.

Abu Simbel grace one-pound notes, now worth little more than a nickel.

Their valuation seems like an insult once you've seen the magnificence of the temple.

Valley of the Kings

We met our fellow travelers at the Colossi of Memnon, two statues on Luxor's west bank that had been visible from the ballon.

Although they're considerably smaller than the Colossus of Rhodes, they're still here after 3,400 years.  Imagine if Stephen Sondheim wrote their song!

Howard Carter discovered King Tut's tomb in the Valley of the Kings, our next stop.  The Egyptian Museum in Cairo displays the contents when they're not traveling the world to promote tourism.

But the tomb vacated by the 19-year-old Tut is hardly the most impressive.  Ahmed, our guide suggested we visit those of Ramsesses III, IV and  IX.  Rules prevented him from accompanying us inside.  Imagine the underground traffic jams in peak tourism season if tourists stopped for lectures.

If burrowing deep into a mountain didn't always deter tomb robbers (or archeologists!), it did preserve the wall paintings and hieroglyphics that pharaohs commissioned to decorate the final resting places of their sarcophagi.

It's hard to imagine how the artists created their colorful work using only oil lamps and mirrors to reflect sunlight illuminating the entrances.

 

Turbaned men bar entry to the tombs if you have a camera but no photo pass.  It cost almost as much as admission.

They also use their flashlights and lascivious giggles to solicit tips by pointing out Min, the god of reproduction, on the ceiling.