Friday, July 22, 2011

Hail Britannia


With months of extensive email correspondence our friend Scott and I nailed down a date and time to meet up in London for a drink and some dinner along with his sweety Laura. We would fly into Heathrow Airport early afternoon, take a train into the Green Park station which is near where they were staying, and meet at a certain pub about 6:PM. That seemed long enough for us to find a hotel by our usual method of random search considering we would be arriving into London about noon.

We exited the tube station at Green Park and discovered we were in the center of the Rodeo Drive of London making our search for a reasonably priced hotel near impossible. The temperature being on the warm side and the search with packs on backs not being very successful, we decided to have some lunch, and more importantly a cold beer. After our lunch, I left the bags with Sharon at the restaurant while I scouted the area for a hotel in our price range, hopefully without having to take a second mortgage out on the Phoenix house. 

The Bustamanta Mermaid at the Mermaid Hotel
Briskly walking the streets passing by the Bentley dealership and every posh designer label shop imaginable, I let my intuition take me into a pleasant little lane just south of Oxford Street. It was there I saw the small sign of the Mermaid Hotel hanging off the side of some tall lovely old buildings and directly below the sign a door leading upstairs above the restaurants below. Walking up the steep narrow stairway I came to the small office with a counter and stacks of luggage behind me. Then I heard a rapid succession of footsteps coming up the stairs. It was the desk clerk that quickly stepped into his post and asked how he could help me. I explained my need for a nice reasonably priced double room and he replied they only have one room for  one night though maybe other nights might be available if I check the desk the next morning. I asked the price and it was within budget plus it included breakfast. I secured the room, skipped down the stairs through the door out onto the quiet street with the room key in hand, went into another unmarked door off the street, up four flights of stairs, (half way up was a large Bustamante sculpture of a Mermaid behind glass) dropped off my daypack into the cute top level room and retreated back to the awaiting Sharon with the incredibly great news. I couldn't wait to show her the unmarked door from the street where our room was because it seemed so funny to find such a room in this area of the city that sported hotels way beyond our budget. 

Winding myself past the boutiques again realizing I had ventured quite away from the restaurant but it didn't matter much because we had a room where we earlier felt doomed. I found Sharon kicked back reading from her Kindle and I said " Pack up, we've got a room". I played up the situation walking back to the hotel and the long winding walk supported my gentle warnings. We finally arrived at the door and I exclaimed "this is it." We made our way upstairs past the large ceramic pastel colored Mermaid sculpture which Sharon immediately identified and thoroughly enjoyed, and after the four flights of stairs I opened the door to the room which was much larger and beautiful than she expected plus the room had a great view out into the cafe street scene below. 


Pubbing it up in London with friends Laura and Scott
Children violating the rules at the Lady Di Memorial
We got settled into our room and then readied ourselves to meet up with our friends from Arizona at the Aubry Pub near the American Embassy and only a few blocks from our room. We guessed at a turn onto Aubry Road, walked one block and I saw the profile of Laura in a long black coat on the corner among many others standing outside the pub. Being Friday afternoon, all the pubs are brimming with customers. Making sure it was Laura, we called out her name and she spun around with a wide grin on her face. It's always great to see a familiar face when traveling for so long. Soon Scott arrived and with the pub so full we decided to move down the road to another pub to begin our reunion. After a few pints of bitter we went to an Italian restaurant, met up with their very cute daughter Kayla and finished off the evening filling our bellies with pasta, great wine, and rousing conversation. Our friends were leaving the next day so we all said goodnight.

The following next few days Sharon and I toured the city by tourist bus (kind of silly but fun) and walked through the parks. One of our most favorite stops was at the Lady Diana memorial fountain in Hyde Park. It's a whimsical water feature that had a sign clearly stating No Wading or Swimming while hundreds of children (and their parents!) played gleefully running up through river like rushing waters behind the fence supporting the warning sign. I believe Lady Di wouldn't have it any other way. 

The elegant old Grand Hotel on the seafront in Brighton
The third day we packed up and took a train south to Brighton, a small seaside resort I first retreated to 29 years ago while avoiding the military draft for the ongoing conflict in Viet Nam. At the train station I inquired about a rental car and the information desk said it was just around the corner so we walked over to their office and reserved a car to be picked up in a couple days to tour the southwest area of England. While at the rental office we inquired about a bed and breakfast we could stay at and were pointed in the right direction towards the seafront. While living in Brighton, I remembered the Grand Hotel, a place known to comfort Oscar Wilde and his companion Bosie. At the time I couldn't have afforded to stay in such a beautiful place but I had dreamed some day I could so when we walked by this hotel we stopped in to inquire if they had rooms and at what cost. They did have a room left and the cost was surprisingly reasonable. So I was able to live out a dream in this fine historical inn on the seafront of Brighton.
It's delightfully silly how a stack of rocks attracts so many

Brighton was certainly fun and wonderful in a very British way but we needed to move on into the countryside because I wanted Sharon to experience a true bed and breakfast in a small village and also see Stonehenge. 

A beautiful day at the beach English style
We picked up our fine right-hand standard drive economy car and ventured along the southern coastline of Sussex towards the monoliths of Stonehenge. The day remained cloudy with light rain only allowing the sun to peak through a few seconds every hour while we threaded the narrow hedgerows connecting the country villages of southwest England. Unexpectedly we drove upon Stonehenge setting out in the middle of a lush green rounded off hill and pulled into the lightly attended parking area. From what I heard by others whom have visited this curiously placed stone formations before that there was developed around the site when in fact the stone circle was in a pleasant empty setting surrounded by rolling farmlands. I was delightfully surprised and photographed these world renown stone stacks feverishly. Finally the fun wore off and I jumped the low rope barrier and pushed over a fairly large stone. This brought about a choir of jeers from the other visitors. (not really..they loved it). The sun began to lower onto the foothills so it was the signal to now find a place to spend the night. I thought this time and place would be perfect to find a country pub that had accommodations for the evening. We drove north on a narrow farm road that bordered a military tank practice operations area for quite awhile until we saw a sign for pointing to a small village advertising a B&B. The winding road brought us to an old inn that had a note on the door to call this number for information. Sitting in the parking lot was a man that said just knock on the door loudly. We did and a rounded head of a man just out of the shower poked out of the window right above the door asking what we wanted. He stated his inn was full for the night but across the main road in other town there would be other B&B’s. So back in the car down the road to the main road turn across the main road onto another narrow hedgerow lined lane we drove until we came to the village of Market Lavington. Slowly navigating the main street of this town we spied a pub with an accommodations sign so we pulled over, parked, walked across the road, entered the pub and ordered a couple pints. After a couple long pulls off my glass while chatting it up with a couple of inquisitive locals, we inquired about a room for the night from the bartender and indeed they had and they also cooked up great English food from their restaurant in the next room. That night we were graciously served lovely traditional English dishes, went upstairs and slept wonderfully, got up early to photograph some of the town, had a full English breakfast and made our way back to Brighton after exploring more villages along the way.

My Brighton hideout in 1972
Returning to Brighton was much easier because I had more experience with the car and we took the motorway most of the route in lieu of the country roads. Arriving back to the seafront about six in the evening to find many of the B&B’s in town were full but our luck would bring us to the lovely little Modan B&B just down the street from the flat where I lived in 1972. The older couple were so typically proper British and thrilled we selected their place to stay. That evening after having great Indian food, we walked along the seafront out to the Brighton Pier to capture a bit of nostalgia dreaming how things were and how lucky I was today.

The next morning I pulled car up to the B&B, loaded the bags in the boot and drove to the rental car agency to drop off the car next to the rail station. We were a little concerned about making our flight to Ireland on time because threats of a labor work slow down were looming so we got to the rental office just before eight and the office didn’t open until nine. Fortunately a worker from the agency was sitting in his car in front of the office so we left the keys with him, grabbed our bags, hiked up to the train station, bought our tickets to Gatwick Airport, boarded the train as it pulled out five minutes later. The train pulled into the airport station. We walked into the airport (very convenient) and checked our luggage to Dublin at the Air Lingus counter. Within two hours we would be in the land of milk and Guinness.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

AmsterDamn!

Leaving a conservative neatly organized society of Luxembourg to the tongue in cheek silliness of Amsterdam is a lesson in opposites socially speaking. The dutch love their country from what I can glean in conversations both in and out of the Netherlands. I love these people for embracing diversity and tolerance though within the last few years of massive immigration their welcome mat has been worn thin.
It doesn't get much more fun than this

On the train we actually executed an advanced plan to exit the train station by turning left to locate a bicycle rental company so we could ride through the streets with our packs on our backs to search for a hotel. The plan worked flawlessly. Bicycles rule this city and for good reason. Most streets are extremely narrow, parking is a trick only the Dutch can make happen, and navigating up, over, and around the city maize seems impossible even for a seasoned traveler as myself. So we located the MacBike rental office, rented two common looking steeds, and off into the hinterland we did peddle. A word of warning when peddling in Amsterdam, it's residents take cycling very serious so bicycling without direction, purpose, and lack of control is not tolerated its citizens. Everyone from Dad riding with two kids, Grandma shopping, or the nattily dressed businessman ride with conviction with no monkeying around.

Within a half hour we found the very elegant Hotel Doelen, a small hotel on a quiet back street in the center of the city. We dismounted, locked our bikes to a building and toted our luggage into our room and then off to explore this ancient fascinating commerce port. Our destinations included the Rijksmuseum to see the Rembrandt works, the VanGogh Museum and ride by the Ann Frank house which we didn't go in because of the massive line around the building. Then we decided it was time to stop by a coffee house to sample some of the special coffee at the Jolly Joker. Our experience there was more than we both could have imaged so we retired to our hotel room for a few hours.

This ain't your Grandma's coffee but it is the richest kind
Amsterdam is very quaint just to stroll around and wander into a pub or a restaurant. Both of us had been dying for some Thai food for a long time so we decided on eating Thai food for the first evening meal and without disappointment. The spice, the coconut, and the textures satisfied our desires for one of our favorite cuisines. OK...we were not quite fully satisfied because the next nights dinner was again Thai food but at a different restaurant that was even better. Yes at times we can be very repetitious and boring though not having Thai for four months we needed our fix more than just once for such a long celibacy.



First Class Train from Amsterdam to Paris...very nice
After four days in Amsterdam we boarded our first class high speed train directly back to Paris so we could catch our flight to London. When I use three world cities in one sentence it makes me shiver with delight.  Our brief return to Paris allowed us to meet Kasia, the very charming daughter of the gentleman who was the owner of the apartment we rented in Paris on our previous stay. Lisa Wines arranged for us to meet at an Italian restaurant and then we went for a night cap drink at a corner cafe. We told Kasia we were going to Ireland and she insisted we contact her mother who has a 300 year old thatched roof cottage to rent in Kells south of Dublin. We promised we'd try to contact her but first we must see London and a portion of its surrounding country side.










Perfect Luxembourg





CURRENT PREFACE: After visiting many metropolis's throughout the world this postage stamp city and country stands out to be the front runner of all. It seems way too good to be true but our inquiry amongst it's residents held steadfast that Luxembourg has won our prestigious "Most Perfect City in the World" award. Would I want to immigrate to perfection? I don't think I could handle the pressure of living up to it's flawless surroundings so Bisbee don't worry, we aren't going anywhere but home.  

Down to the last day in Paris and a quick decision had to be made whether to go directly to the Netherlands to spend our entire five remaining days on the European continent or make a quick side-trip stopover somewhere on the way to wooden shoe land. Then I had a geographic recollection regarding a mini-country somewhere on the northern border of France called Luxembourg. I knew nothing about this little known or heard from nation and that alone was cause for their monarchy to welcome us upon our arrival.

The City Hotel with the train station on the left
Semi early Friday morning we sobbed as we said our goodbyes to best friend Lisa and arrived by bus at the Nord Est railway station. Crossing the wide boulevard of traffic and the even wider arrival area fronting the station we found the ticket office that is now known as the slowest service queue in rail history. I knew what train we needed and allowed for an hour to purchase the tickets, find the platform and have a cup of coffee. I didn’t allow for everyone in front of us to plan their complete summer holidays with each ticket agent. I could have used a ticket issuing vending machine but our country, the old backward USA do it our way, doesn’t adhere to the rest of the world’s latest embedded chip technology for credit cards which disallowed any hope of an alternate method to purchase tickets and left me standing in line anxiously waiting until ten minutes before my train was scheduled to leave. One of the three ticket windows opened for our service and we rushed up first asking if the saleswomen spoke English and she instantly referred us to the next clerk which was busy. I didn’t let a little communication issue stop me at this point to purchase two one way tickets to Luxembourg for the next train. Within five minutes we had our tickets, walked quickly out of the office into the boarding area, checked the platform location,  showed our ticket to the rail master and boarded the train with a couple minutes to spare. The only hang up was we were in the wrong car…yes it was a second class coach but our assigned seats were in another car so we just sat meekly in some random seats and fortunately no one claimed the seats for the three hour trip to Luxembourg.
Bridges and manicured gardens

There was a light rain when we stepped outside from the picturesque train station and though the King, the mayor, nor a large crowd of citizens gathered to formally welcome us, the genuine happiness in the faces of the general public was welcome enough. We walked around serveral blocks of streets for about 45 minutes scoping out hotel possibilities and decided on the City Hotel because it was close to the rail station and the penthouse corner room with a view of one of the main streets was great plus they provided a great breakfast included in the price of the room.

Every country could use one of these
Upon checking in I decided to query the elderly cheerful desk clerk about his country, which he was a native. “How are your politicians?” I asked. His reply was quick and direct. “They seem very honest and they work very hard”. I couldn’t believe this but his sincere answer without hesitation lead me to believe it was true. “I don’t really hear of Luxembourg getting involved in any wars, how can that be?” He smiled and said the country hasn’t been to war in 250 years except for that “German thing” which they didn’t have anything to do with and he doesn’t foresee anything in the near future.  When asked about hiking around the city, “We have many beautiful hiking trails through our city so it is not necessary to travel very far.” Is this utopia or what? It was getting late so we dropped off our bags in our beautiful room and walked through the ultra clean streets of the old part of the city. What we first encountered in the early evening light was truly as our desk said. Beautiful streets, walkways, pedestrian paths, and trails all around the city with views of many ancient buildings, incredible green landscapes, and very tasteful shops and restaurants populated the old city center plus everyone was really friendly and again our inquiry to everyone we meet seemed to be very happy to live in their country.  We wandered (got it right Lisa) into a large square where a large stage was set for an orchestra performance. There were small booths selling sausages, beer, and wine so we had a couple glasses of wine and within 15 minutes the youth brass orchestra began to play. The weekend music festival was put on by the "Ministry of Respect". Yes can you believe this country has such a governmental agency? This is what the US needs more than ever! The setting was storybook like and the musical performance was flawless.
The train station

We ate dinner at a restaurant recommended by our desk clerk for traditional Lux food. Sharon had the culturally recognized thick ham steak and I had a local fish. Both dishes satisfied our culinary desires and we slowly strolled back to our hotel along the quiet streets of our new favorite city.

The morning gray skies and low hanging clouds didn’t dissuade our desire for the urban hike on the trail we caught a glimpse of the night before. The river canyon cuts through the center of the city and provides a lengthy lush pedestrian pathway for visitors and residents enjoyment. A light drizzle put a gloss varnish on the stone steps leading down to the path making it very slippery. Once at the bottom, the manicured parkway lead us through the maze of trees, bushes, lush carpets of grass, and interesting historic homes and churches. The rain increased just after we ducked under cover of a small family entertainment spot featuring miniature golf . The rain drained from the last cloud and the sun made its début as we continued our hike under the high stone arches of the bridges above, threading the paths dividing the well organized gardens and eventually the path popped us out onto the winding narrow streets of the city routing us back into the central zone where again another music venue began as part of the weekend festival.  So incredibly beautiful this city was I couldn’t help wish that all city planners should be required to visit Luxembourg as example of how to make use of common areas in an urban environment.

The next morning we reluctantly boarded our train to Amsterdam leaving our beautiful City Hotel room and Luxembourg, a city so great they had to name it twice…Luxembourg Luxembourg. (sorry New York, you aren’t the only one)


Friday, July 1, 2011

French Wines




Nairobi International Airport compared to other international airports rates at the bottom of our travels. The wait area for flights is circa 1950 with a strong emphasis on bad duty free strip mall like shopping in a dimly lit aisle way. Our three hour wait seemed like it would never end after experiencing the 40 minute drive from our hotel to the airport on the rain soaked potholed construction wrecked streets. It was a definite sign for us to move on.

Lisa Wines guiding us from airport to apartment..isn't she cute!
Anticipation ran rampant through our veins to board our flight for Paris to meet our dear expiate friend Lisa Wines. Lisa has been very successful at reinventing herself as an international marketing instructor in Paris where she now calls home. Schools out for the summer and we get to have Lisa to pal around Paris for a week. While in Greece we communicated with her and she arranged for us to rent her friends apartment in the outer ring of Paris but close enough in the city to take the Metro or buses anywhere. She gave us the crash course on how to travel in and around Paris giving us the tools we needed to explore this incredible city.

Paris apartment..our bed on top
Our flight out of Nairobi first took us to Doha, Qatar where we switched planes and got to walk about the ultra modern sleek airport. Qatar was obviously not hurting for government funding for its infrastructure unlike the rest of the world. Within a couple hours we boarded our direct flight to Paris. Surprisingly both of us slept well on the plane and when we landed at the Charles De Galle Airport, deplaned, immigrated; bag retrieved and stepped into the international greeting area the wide smile of Lisa was a welcomed sight.  Quickly after our reunion Lisa guided us to the train and whisked into the center of Paris to our new home for a week. Stepping off the train we schlepped our bags to the apartment well not quite up to the apartment. First Lisa having to get up so early to meet us at the airport forgot the keys so Sharon and I sat across the street at the corner café and drank coffee, read books and munched on pastry until Lisa made the 45 minute round trip to her apartment to retrieve the keys.
Locks of Love... Paris affectionate tradition for fresh love

Before she left for the key retrieval she informed us on a personal matter that may affect our immediate occupation of the apartment. Her former boyfriend might be there because they share the same friendship with the apartment owner and the boyfriend being in a victim of an economic calamity, uses the apartment during it’s lull times to seek refuge from the boulevards.

The Bradley Museum...impressive indigenous art collection 
Lisa returned and I pointed out to her the window of the apartment opened while I wasn’t looking so there is a good chance someone is there.  After briefing me on the situation and what to expect when the door opens, I took the keys and hiked up the five flights of stairs to introduce myself and explain the situation. I unlocked the door and surprised the ex-boyfriend at the door and his female friend sitting at the dining table. After his assessment of the situation, he made a phone call to the apartment owner who admitted he forgot about our arrival. After hanging up he began to pace while repeating the situation as being  “very uncomfortable” and after short discussion and mutual understanding of each other’s dilemma, he kindly apologized and said the apartment would be clean ready for us within three hours. I returned to my timid awaiting posse at the corner cafe explaining the plan, grabbed our bags, hiked back up the stairs to the 4th floor and stored the bags in the apartment until later.

Now without the bags we could roam about freely and the first thing was to get some food at a bistro to stave off our 15 hour travel hunger. Lisa brought us to one of her favorite spots only a few blocks away. With sandwiches and salads quelling our appetites and organic (Bio) wines soothing our weary bodies, we began our first exploration of the sights of Paris. First came the Sacre Couer, a massive cathedral  capping one of the highest view points of Paris affording us a fantastic view of the city and our first view of the famous Eiffel Tower from Lisa’s secret spot. Like baby ducks following in line with the momma duck, we bounded down the hilltop to the fabric district and into the African neighborhood.
Painting in the Louvre depicting early cell phone user

The afternoon began to fall away so we returned to our now vacated apartment and settled in. The days following our arrival were packed with traditional sight seeing, aimless exploring, silly consumption of wine, watching movies, doing laundry, endless silly conversations, and confirming just how great it is to have such a wonderful friend. Our destinations were the usual Cathedral at Notre Dam, The Louvre, and the Eiffel Towner but the surprise museum was the Bradley Museum for indigenous cultures.

Our week went by so fast but the time had come for us to move on for a few days to explore the Benelux countries before returning to Paris so we can catch our flight to London tomorrow.

Our last day in Paris we entered a restaurant during the summer and left in the spring. During those imaginary months, we ate wonderful food, drank the organic wines, and sampled unique single malt whiskey. The sunny day turned cold and rainy and sitting in a warm dry café trading stories was the perfect last supper to commemorate our visit. 

Later that afternoon I had to make a decision as to where we would go the next morning. I have no science to this last minute selection of direction and if it didn’t serve me well I would search for another format but usually in every case my off the cuff choice works out. For months I’ve had Amsterdam on our schedule directly after Paris and I wanted to show Sharon the Reich and the Van Gogh museums but I felt there had to be something more….that’s when Luxembourg floated through my mind. Being such a small country, I always skipped by it and now I felt this was my opportunity to quickly take a peek at this funny little country for a couple days.  




Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Kenya the Beautiful



PLEASE NOTE: Because of the vastness of this country and the time we spent exploring I highly suggest clicking onto my "One the Road Again" images link (upper right side of the blog) in shutterfly to view the hundreds of photos to enhance the following read.

The Amboseli National Park with a spectacular view of Mount Kilimanjaro, Tanzania in the back ground
While in Greece I had booked a Kenya safari with the company F King Safaris and up until a week before our arrival into Nairobi the communication between us was excellent and Farid, the owner of the company assured me everything was taken care of. My last email to him requested he set up a hotel for us in Nairobi and have someone meet us at the airport to drive us to the hotel considering our flight landed at four in the morning. The last two requests went unanswered and I voiced my concern with Sharon regarding the silence before we left Cairo. When we arrived into Nairobi International Airport I was hoping someone would be there and that we had a hotel room. We felt if all else fails we would have to figure it out on the fly.

Stepping off the plane we followed the normal directional signs to immigration for visas on arrival, laid down the fifty US dollars, and proceeded to baggage still carrying the feeling of uncertainty about getting to a hotel or even a safari. Within a few minutes our bags arrived and there stood two young men with a sign bearing our name. We had no idea the Swahili word Nairobi means “cold”. Our naivety caught us off guard as we walked out of the airport into the cold rainy early dawn towards the car.

The Boulevard Hotel was an older design hotel but nice though I became concerned because once again our hotel had an armed guard and gates at the entrance. The difference in Nairobi verses Cairo was it was safe to walk anywhere during the daytime but everyone warned us we shouldn’t wonder around the city at night.
While checking into the hotel, our driver handed me his cell phone because his boss Farid wanted to make sure everything was satisfactory and made an appointment to meet with me to finalize the safari and collect payment. After settling in our room, we had breakfast in the hotel restaurant. Returning to our room we fell back to sleep catching up on the loss of sleep traveling all night from Cairo.

Sharon jumping it up with the Masai
Midday we awoke and made use of the internet to catch up on correspondence, watching the news, doing some laundry and most importantly to coordinate picking up my replacement credit cards at the FEDEX office where my bank had them sent and held for pickup . Both of us were quite content on arriving to Kenya. We noticed a big change in the people of Kenya verses where we just came from. Everyone smiled and was extremely friendly plus you could drink alcohol openly without the feeling of being scrutinized. A sense of relaxation was a welcoming feeling.

The next day we visited the National Museum around the corner from our hotel. This was a nicely laid out collection of tribal artifacts and stuffed examples of the game we were to expect to see on our safari. After touring the museum we had a very nice lunch at the café, afterwards we visited the snake and reptile exhibit set up in a zoo like design. All in all it was a fun interesting place to visit.

My FEDEX package hadn’t arrived yet into Nairobi so the next day we arranged for a driver to take us on a tour of the National Wildlife Refuge, a huge untouched mass of land brderng the airport. Here you can drive around in passenger cars to see giraffes, gazelles, zebras, wildebeests and many other animals and birds in their natural setting. It was like a mini introduction to our upcoming safari.  In the afternoon I researched online a place called “Hell’s Gate Park”. There you can rent mountain bikes and ride through the bush lands and take a hike into a canyon. This sounded just like what we needed so went down stairs to the lobby and arranged transportation to this park that was almost two hours out of Nairobi. Early the next day we took off to Hells Gate. The drive was interesting leaving Nairobi but the countryside of Kenya began to unfold as the miles past. The high mountain passes gave way to long views into the Rift Valley, a fertile sink spanning hundreds of miles.

We stopped at a small lodge and met a young man named Offin, that was going to be our guide. At first we refused this offer because we just wanted to ride but both our driver and the guide insisted we use the service. OK…..but reluctantly we agreed and were presented with our roughly maintained and modified mountain bikes. These are the type of bikes one would take to Burningman and not caring if they returned with you. We mounted our bikes and followed our guide onto the tarmac main road for about 6 kilometers and turned onto the dirt road leading up to the park.  Riding up to the park guardhouse we dismounted and figured out all the fees, got the tickets, hopped back on our bikes and began our bike trek through the mountainous grasslands. The nice part of this trip is we were out in the middle of nature with hardly anyone around, just us and the hundreds of zebras, gazelles and water buffaloes. With bikes you could ride up within 20 feet and closely observe the animals. We stopped at two large pinnacles, sat down as Offin explained in detail the sexual secrets of the Masi tribe. It was very painful at times to listen to the practices of these people. I’ll spare you the details of this conversation but if you are interested, ask Sharon.

We road for about 15 kilometers to a ranger station, left our bikes, then hiked through a gorge for a couple kilometers. The steep shear rock walls of the gorge reminded us of many canyons in Arizona but this one had steaming hot water cascading from a few fishers in the walls. The nice part about the hike was it wasn’t a weak nature walk because parts of this hike were a bit challenging for both of us. After hiking out of the canyon, we mounted our bikes but I discovered my rear tire lost half its air. Of course our guide didn’t have a pump let alone a repair kit. Offin switched bikes with me because he was much lighter than I and could ride the half inflated tire better than me. Within 20 minutes the tire was mostly flat and we still had quite away to go but he persevered and got to the ranger station where they had a pump. Inflated the tire and we road off towards the lodge. Once we got to the tarmac we stopped at a village and he had the tube replaced while Sharon shopped. I stood and observed the workings of the villagers. Kenyan merchants are a collection of entrepreneurial shops attached to each other forming long strip malls. The villages comprise of many small shops of crudely built plywood plastic and galvanized sheet steel all painted brightly with very clever names emblazoned on them. 

Returning to the lodge we gave back the bicycles, talked with our interesting guide for quite awhile, and then woke up our driver and got back to our hotel after eight that evening.

When we walked into our room I immediately checked our email hoping I would have news from FEDEX. I only had one more day before we were scheduled to leave Nairobi for safari and I wasn’t expected back to Nairobi for two weeks. Time was getting tight, the clock was ticking, and if we didn’t get the package getting money would be a very awkward process. I logged onto to the FEDEX site and bingo, my package arrived but was sent out on deliver while we were gone. The shipping instructions were clear “Hold for Pickup”. The last notation on the tracking matrix said they tried to deliver but the address was unclear and the package was waiting at the FEDEX agency’s office. Well at least the package was in Nairobi but let’s hope it was at the office because tomorrow was my last day in Nairobi.

The next morning I anxiously got out of bed and placed a call to the local FEDEX office.  FEDEX licenses their services through local agencies so calling them isn’t quite the same as in the states. On the internet there were horror stories about lost or delayed delivers in Kenya. I couldn’t get through to find out if they held the package and to confirm the address. Sharon and I left the hotel after breakfast and took a twenty-five dollar taxi ride out near the airport. Fortunately the building had the all-familiar red, white and blue graphics reading FEDEX.  Our driver pulled into the parking lot and I held my breath with hope of a package waiting addressed to me. The receptionist was busy with a couple others so I waited somewhat patiently until she recognized me and I introduced myself at the same time she reached to the side of her desk a presented the package. Hallelujah, to the end of this uncomfortable saga. At this point I must thank Matt and Ricci at National Bank of Arizona for transferring funds into Sharon’s account for temporary relief and getting my replacement cards to the other side of the world exactly on time.  

The same evening two representatives from F King’s Safaris came to our hotel to collect payment for the five-day safari in cash. I was a little apprehensive because the company owner originally requested payment in US Dollars to which I refused to do. I replied that VISA or Kenya Schillings, the local currency, could be the payment. He rescinded his original request and said local currency would be best.
Of the two gentlemen I met with, one was the moneyman and the other was introduced as Ali, our driver and guide. After the money was counted twice and a receipt was written, Ali said to be ready at the hotel by 7AM. I assured him we would be ready and excitedly went back up to our room to begin packing for the next morning. Things were coming together finally and that night I slept very soundly.

I came down stairs with our bags, paid our bill at the front -desk, and said our goodbyes to the staff of the Boulevard Hotel at breakfast. These people were so gentle, engaging, and friendly it was sad to leave. We left the restaurant waited under the entrance awning for Ali while the rain came down steadily. We took the rain as a good sign and within minutes our four- wheel drive Nissan safari van pulled up, Ali loaded our bags and off we went for our five-day expedition. Since I arranged for a private safari the van provided us a lot of space to stretch out. This was better than I imagined. As he navigated his way through the chaotic Nairobi traffic, Ali explained his 15 years experience as a safari guide and assured us that we would see many animals. The rain quickly subsided to clear blue skies as we turned from the highway into the Amboseli National Park and onward to check in and have lunch at the Amboseli Serena Lodge. Sharon and I didn’t know what to expect in the way of a lodge or food but when we arrived to the lodge our concerns were immediately wiped away. This lodge was not only beautiful on the outside but the room was incredible and the lunch seemed to be delivered from heaven. I couldn’t believe it except for the huge smile stretched across Sharon’s face assured me I wasn’t dreaming.

Ali instructed us that after lunch we would relax in our room until 4PM, then come to the lobby and we would go for a game drive for a couple hours. The drive was a beautiful eye opening experience of animal herds roaming in their natural habitats as the sun lowered in the sky and our anticipation of dinner at the lodge that evening.  The dinner served like the lunch was quasi buffet but the quality of this food was superb and with a bottle of South African wine, it was the perfect end to a great first day.

The game drive the next morning began at 6AM and we wound around the endless stretches of high grass and pockets of trees until 8:30AM when we would return, have breakfast and check out of the lodge and proceed to Tsavo West National Park with a stop over at Mzima Springs to view hippopotamus’ and crocodiles before checking into the Kilanguni Serena Lodge and have lunch. Once again we were totally surprised by the design of the lodge, this having a watering hole for the game at night just 50 yards from the open air restaurant. Again the food was delicious but we noticed that only two others were staying at this lodge. Questioning our waiter, he said we were traveling in low season and this resort doesn’t close like many others during off season.  During the rest of our trip we noticed how empty the hotels and restaurants were plus the better pricing made has made this an even better journey.


This time of year in Kenya is normally known for its rainy season but unfortunately Kenya has been experiencing a drought and the rains this time of year most likely won’t happen until the next rainy season in August. So the lack of rain is good for us on our trip but its rather devastating for the farmers in Kenya.

Driving around the parks looking for animals captures a wonderful beauty and if you’ve never done it you should treat yourself to this experience. Among the many animals we saw were, hundreds of elephants, herds of zebras, gazelles, impalas, dic dics, ostriches, wildebeests’, water buffaloes, lions, one leopard, baboons, giraffes, hippos and many others. The only animal we didn’t see was the Rhinoceros. We could have went to an area after the safari to see the Rhino but it wasn’t all that important to us.

One of the most beautiful moments of the trip  was the third morning as we skirted along the foothills of Mount Kilimanjaro the usually clouded mountain cleared and our view of the mountain with a strip of clouds midpoint accented with a herd of zebras in the foreground was an image I’ll never forget. Fortunately I captured the moment perfectly on camera.

After Tsavo West National Park we continued our safari to Tsavo East National Park and finally our trip ended on the Indian Ocean coastal city of Mombasa. 

The island city of Mombasa is a crowded smaller metropolis where we first had to stop and meet Mr. Farid of F King Safaris and then we would be dropped off at the arranged hotel for us in the area of Bamburi Beach. Pulling up to the company’s modest office, Mr. Farid greeted as we exited from the van, invited to have a seat across the desk from him and asked how was our safari. Both Sharon and I couldn’t have had a better experience. The expertise of Ali and the beauty of the parks and the lodges made for a perfect experience.

Soon we left and were dropped off at our hotel, The Bamburi Resort. At first we thought it was quaint with it’s thatched roofs and bamboo walls but soon the exotic luster wore off and the endless hiphop sounds from the bar along with the stagnant air had us packing our bags early the next morning. We walked only 100 yards down the road to the Bamburi Beach Hotel, a small change in name but a big difference in property. This hotel served us well with plenty of beach time until we moved onto the island of Lamu.

We arranged the travel to Lamu through the hotels travel department and found that it would be best to take the 35 minute flight and not take the eight to ten hour bus. I was all for that considering the condition of the roads in the area. Since it was still low season, we couldn’t fly from Mombasa to Lamu but had to take an hour and a half drive north to the Malindi airport. The agent booked our flights and a hotel called the Lamu Palace Hotel located right on the water and it had airconditioned rooms. The price was a little high but I had priced some other places and it seemed in line so we finalized the trip within two days we were landing on the island of  Manda and took a boat over to Lamu.

We walked down the steps from our 580 turbo prop plane off the tarmac and onto the grassy walk towards the small terminal under construction to the baggage claim metal rack under a large tree and waited for our bags to arrive via a push cart. Two young men were there to handle our bags and direct us to walk from the terminal on a dirt path to the jetty where our boat was waiting to deliver us across the mile wide waterway to the other jetty on the island of Lamu. Within five minutes we stepped across a couple boats and up upon the landing up a small flight of stairs to mix in with the hectic activity of the port.
Lamu has no cars except for a couple tractors and a half dozen motorbikes everything else is transported by donkey or human power. Our bags stayed on the boat to be delivered further down the sea wall while we were directed to the Lamu Palace Hotel, a colonial building with Moorish arches and a canvas awning extended out from the building used to cover the outside café. This was a great location to watch the busy activity of the town. There are only two main single lane thoroughfares in this town, the one that followed the sea wall and the other narrow walk way cutting through the center of the village.

Mercy, the hotel manager, met us at the main entrance to give us a warm welcome. This woman about my age and half my height was very gracious and accommodating. The hotel was as described only it was in need of a renovation to bring it up to what we would expect for the price of the room per night. Sharon went with Mercy upstairs to inspect the room before we checked in. Returning downstairs she said it was all right but not great. The room was very small and the bathroom even smaller but it had great air conditioning and free WiFi. Considering the temperature at the moment, cool air trumped other shortcomings. Later we went downstairs to the restaurant discovering the food was pretty good and the beer was cold. Taking a quick look around it appeared we were the only guests in this 22 room hotel.

Later in the afternoon, Mercy had arranged a tour of Lamu by a guide named Fahruk. The hour walk about had us winding through tight alley ways, stepping around trash and deep puddles. He told us much of the history centering upon the number of mosques of different ages and the leadership of the times. It was hard not to be put off by the raw garbage mounds scattered around the town. Most of these mounds were used as feeding areas for the donkeys and cats though occasionally I would see children looking through them looking for food or drink.. We returned to the hotel as the sun dropped below the horizon, cleaned up and had dinner that was included in our half board.

Once again traveling during the low season meant a bit more attention from the vendors, other than that it felt I was dropped into a pure culture for my examination. The next day we wanted to take a long walk to another town about 5 kilometers down the sea front. Most of the activity while we walked focused on the building or repairing of boats during low tide. The boats cocked off to one side on the sand gave access to repair holes, reinforce seals or repair rudders. We continued until the boat activity vanished and the clean open area of beach unfolded. At a point where the protected waters separated from the open deep water a large Moorish castle like private home stood alone nestled within the sand dunes. The whole view was dreamlike. The temperature and cool breeze allowed us to pause and take a swim. The calm water was a perfect temperature to float and let your mind drift. After an hour of soaking and sunning we began our walk back except this time we redirected ourselves to walk through the small village of Shela. This village was much cleaner, better maintained and the couple inns we visited were of a much better value. But moving is a hassle and we only had a couple more days before departing so we took the information for the next time we visit or someone else needs info. At one of the inns we decided to have some lunch under a vine-covered patio along side of a garden with a fountain. It was a quite a contrast from the activity in Lamu. After lunch we wound through the walkways of the village and out to the sea front and returned to our hotel.

The night before we arranged with Mercy for a boat excursion to a pricey resort called Manda Bay Resort located on the very tip of Manda Island.  We were told the resort wanted around $1,000.00 USD per night so Sharon and I decided we had best check this place out. We left Lamu the next morning about 10:AM, after the stormy weather passed, with Mercy, our skipper and his mate on board of “One Love”, a native Dhow boat. Because of the winds blowing into our bow the skipper fired up the outboard and made our way through the mangrove forests to Manda. The hour and a half run was smooth and rather uneventful but when the tall peaked roofs of the Manda Bay came into sight the view was quite beautiful. The resort is built upon the sandy beach encapsulated with lush landscaping. Our skipper read the reef line and we glided into the shore while the remaining guests of the resort getting ready to leave this paradise by skiff turned and photographed our native craft. I jumped from the boat, ran a shore and declared this beach in honor of the royal family. The shuttle motored by and the remaining gentleman walked over inquiring about the nature of our business in a friendly engaging manner. I introduced myself, Sharon and the others  saying I was curious about the resort. He introduced himself as Andy, one of the owners of the resort. With a most cordial invite he showed us to the bar and then had a lovely young girl Stephi (19, her family had been coming to the spot for several years and the families had become friends and so her summer job was arranged) take us on a tour of the property.  The cottages were tastefully rustic with all the modern fixtures and space of current resort standards. Most all the furniture was built at the property lending even more charm and comfort. 

After the tour we ended in the dining room and Andy asked us to join them and their staff for lunch.  Stephaney filled us in on the time when lunch would be served and suggested we relax and take a swim in the ocean. I ordered one more Captain Morgan and tonic off to the beach for an hour of floating and paddling in the perfect water then sitting in the shade taking in the view.

Lunch was called out and we all served ourselves from a delicious buffet of fresh green salad, grilled curried fish, and rice. White wine was served to compliment the offerings. The conversation was a lively discussion about world issues, local island problems and the reasons we all love where we live.

The afternoon drifted away and our boat needed to set sail soon before our light disappeared and or the threat of a storm on the horizon would catch us. We all thanked Andy for his generous hospitality and time, boarded our “yacht” to head home to Lamu.

Later Sharon and I walked down the seafront and had a fish dinner at Bush Gardens, a local small restaurant along the main boulevard. Our flight for Nairobi was scheduled to depart at 12:55PM the next day leaving us five more days in Kenya. We didn’t want to spend it in the big city so we decided to hike on Mount Kenya, about 160 kilometers north of Nairobi. Later that evening back at  the Lamu Palace Hotel, we told Mercy of our idea and she said she had a friend that could drive us to the area. We asked about a place to stay and she mentioned the Ark Hotel, which happened to be related to the Lamu Palace. I went upstairs and checked online the cost of the Ark. Being a safari hotel it was a bit pricey plus safari hotels are secured by a perimeter fence not allowing you to freely go hiking. This isn’t what we were after in the way of a place to hang out for four days.

After breakfast the next morning Mercy arranged a shuttle boat to the airport pier. We said our goodbyes at the pier while the porter took our bags to the terminal. We checked in at the gate, checked our two bags, and waited for our plane under the tree outside in the baggage claim area. About a quarter after twelve the plane landed and unloaded its passengers and bags. Once everything was through the gate, it was now our time to board the plane. This type of flying brings back the memories when flying was glorious and fun. The flight was scheduled to leave 12:55 but the door on the flight closed at 12:30 and we were in the air by 12:40. No reason to hang around when everyone of the ticketed passengers were seated. With a short stop over in Malindi, we arrived into Nairobi around 2:30PM with Mercy’s friend Joshua waiting for us as we exited the baggage area. We walked out to a safari van and we immediately had to clarify that neither of us wanted another safari and that we just wanted a ride to the Mount Kenya area to find a hotel. Either Mercy didn’t quite convey our intention to Joshua or Joshua wanted to steer us in another direction. We asked if he could suggest a hotel near the park so we could arrange for hiking on Mount Kenya. Sharon added we didn’t have much money left and didn’t want a resort type place. After having his driver wind through the business district of Nairobi he suggested a place called the Bantu and that the cost of the ride to and from Mount Kenya would be 8000 schillings which is about $900.00 and this would cover the cost of having the van and driver during the three nights and four days. I protested that we didn’t want to have a driver while we were there. We only wanted to be transported to Mount Kenya and then to be taken back to a hotel in Nairobi the day before our flight, nothing else. He cut the cost in half, I paid the fare, and just before 4PM we were on our way to the Bantu Lodge near Mount Kenya. Mike, our driver then began the long journey to the mountain.

The drive to the Bantu Lodge should have taken no more than three and a half hours but Kenya is going through massive road construction projects then couple that issue with Kenyan style driving, so by the time we reached the Bantu Lodge it was close to 8:PM. We pulled up under the overhang of the entry to the hotel. Knowing we didn’t have reservations, I got out first and went to the front desk to see if we could have a room for four nights The quiet cute young lady bundled up behind the reception counter looked thoroughly perplexed when I explained that we wanted to hike Mount Kenya and if we could just hike from here. She asked if we had a driver and I replied that our driver only drove us here, then he will return to Nairobi tonight and pick us up here in three days. That plan totally confused her. The main point I made was do you have a room for this evening. She confirmed that and my second question was is your restaurant serving dinner now? She confirmed that and we agreed our transportation and hiking plans would be discussed later. We sent our driver off, grabbed our bags and walked down to our room bordering the forest.

The room was basic and the restaurant followed suit but the service was sincere and responsive to anything we asked for. As for the Bantu Lodge, it appeared this was a family place geared towards religious retreats or conferences though it advertised itself at its entrance as a base camp to Mount Kenya. The hotel part had about 30 rooms but the property was laid out to accommodate hundreds of campers.

After we settled into our room, Sharon and I walked over to the restaurant that adjoined the main lobby of the building. Dinner was served buffet style with drinks offered by the wait staff. Our waiter, Paul who remained our server throughout our stay was very attentive, personable, and courteous. The food was tasty but nothing to write home about. I did get to try a few times the Kenyan food staple called Ogle, a maize based mash potato type substance that sticks to your ribs.

After dinner we walked to our room and I had to chuckle about the receptionist being bundled up and asking me in my short sleeves if I was cold? The temperature was very cool but not freezing as reflected in her down coat and stocking cap. It was certainly a pleasant change from the hot humid temps we came from earlier in the day. Entering the room we brushed teeth and hit the sack after a long day of travel.

At the reception desk the next morning, a quieter woman named Theresa listened to what we wanted in a hike so we went over all the options and decided to take a two hour nature walk with a guide today and tomorrow we would hike on Mount Kenya with the same guide. After noontime we began our nature walk starting out slow by touring some of the campgrounds but then we walked out into the brush and tall trees that grew along a small river. The walk wasn’t great but it did get us out and learn a bit more about our surrounding. Just before we ended our nature walk I asked our guide Sammy about what would attract elephants if you were in search of  these enormous beasts. “Do you think smearing your entire body with peanut butter would attract an elephant?” I inquired. He totally ignored my question and pointed to a yellow flower on the river bank and said “Dat’s a Blacked Susan”. So I was left with the question of trolling for elephant bait still lingering in my head. At the end we finalized our plan for Mount Kenya. We needed to hire a four-wheel drive vehicle with driver, have our guide, and pay the entry fee into the Mount Kenya National Park.  The time of departure would be 7:30AM.

Up and ready and to breakfast by 7:AM and out the door by 7:30AM we began our trip by driving through a small town and then we turned onto a rough road. Not just a rough road but one of the most challenging four-wheel drive trails I ever ridden or driven on. Our vehicle, a Nissan 4x4 safari van was getting the shit kicked out of it by our driver. On the second stop where Sharon and I got out to lighten the load, I noticed all the tires were bald and the one beneath me had the steel belts severed. Not only did the vehicle have to get us to the Old Moses base camp but it needed to get us off the mountain as well. We got within eye shot of the base camp when the road wouldn’t let the Nissan continue even though the driver smoked the wheels and the clutch trying but it did nothing except kick rocks and slide sideways. I instructed the driver to stop and we would walk the half-mile to our starting point. We threw on our packs and began the hike. I immediately felt the 3200-meter altitude in my head and my lungs. This hike was going to be a very slow pace at best and fortunately our guide who has lead many expeditions to the top made certain our pace never reached more than a very slow walk.

We walked into the courtyard comprising of three roughly constructed buildings laid out in a U shape and met Candy, the manager of the camp. A tall young Kenyan with running tights and windbreaker curiously stood just outside of the entry. Sammy our guide said it was time to begin and we ‘slowly slowly’ began our assent to a lookout point to get a great view of the peak and its twins.  About 15 minutes into the hike the tall curious young man in running attire was running like a gazelle up the mountain. Sammy explained Kenyan marathon runners all train here on the mountain. We continued on with minimal stops for three hours and the final quick push up to the look out before the clouds shielded the peaks. Sammy declared this a rare day where his day hikers could have a clear view of the mountain.  The increase in my pace rapidly brought about some dizziness and pounding of my heart so I had to throttle back my efforts. I made it to the point before the clouds and quickly fired my camera a number of times and had Sammy take a Sharon and Curt photo just before the first set of clouds set in to soften the clarity of the view and drop the temperature by 15 degrees. We rested about 15 minutes, placed a Kate Drew Wilkerson bead for good fortune, like many others we’ve placed in the world, and began out descent back to base camp and the beaten van.

We reached Old Moses and our driver was waiting in the courtyard. After a 10 minute rest we hiked back down to the van, now turned around in the retreating direction, and started the bouncing, sliding, bone jarring descent.  The hour ride back to pavement was as exhausting as the climb itself but both of us felt great for having hiked up in altitude over 3800-meters and were able to have a clear view of the mountain peaks. On the way back Sharon instructed the driver to turn off at a sign for the Trout Tree Restaurant, about 3 kilometers from our hotel. We turned in and drove down the road about 800 meters to the parking area. The restaurant is a Swiss Family Robinson affair with different levels but the dining area is built up into a very large tree. The property has numerous large pools with constant running water where they farm rainbow trout. Obviously they serve trout in a number of ways. The hours of the establishment were 11AM to 4PM being perfect for us to hike from our hotel to the restaurant and back. We told the hostess and others we would be back tomorrow for lunch and then driver dropped us at our hotel.

Once in our room I collapsed but not before taking a hot shower. Then about 8PM we walked to the dining room, ate a bit of food and I quickly returned to our room and passed out. I was beat.

The next morning I awoke with a slight headache, sore muscles, and of all things my butt hurt. I walked gingerly up to the dining hall for breakfast, came back to the room, wrote a little until it was time to hike over to the Trout Tree Restaurant. We dropped the key off at the reception desk, told the receptionist, Beatrice, what our plans were and she asked if we would be OK walking by ourselves. She was concerned about the monkeys (more precisely, the Baboons). I assured her we have things in our deserts just as threatening and we’ll be back by 4:PM. Walking out through the forest we did see some baboons on our 1K walk out to the main road but they behaved themselves.

White people….it is an interesting observation with the native Kenyans that we don’t walk out in bush alone,  walk along remote roadways,  and it was said of us that we are sensitive and ask a lot of questions.  This is just what these sweet caring  people think of us regarding our actions as divulged by a guide.

We walked just off the main paved roadway up to the turnoff to the restaurant. The looks of everyone passing was happily surprised punctuated by the Swahili greeting “Jambo” along with a smile and waving hand.

Soon we reached the restaurant turnoff, down the dirt road, and stepped down the brick stairs to the swinging bridge leading us to our table. The view was fabulous, the food, especially the smoked trout appetizer and the trout chowder. To place the bookend to our grilled trout main entrees, we split a piece of chocolate cake. Thankfully after our early dinner we had a pleasant 3K walk back to the lodge to work off some of our feast.  Once we returned to our room I passed out and didn’t wake up until seven so I worked on my blog and Sharon read when suddenly a knock on the door broke the room’s silence. Opening the door displayed our sadden faced waiter Paul announcing we are late for dinner. Earlier Sharon stopped at the front desk letting them know we would not be taking dinner tonight because of our late large lunch at the Trout Tree. Apparently the message never got to the kitchen. I explained this to Paul. Though he understood I knew his feelings were hurt we didn’t have us to wait on during the dinner hour.

Bedtime came early and our rise from slumber was early as well. After three weeks in Kenya we both are ready for a complete new environment and nothing could be more of a change from Kenya than France. Our driver from Nairobi showed up at 10:45AM, we said our goodbyes to the staff and enjoyed half the three hour drive to Nairobi. The last half of the drive was through construction and the chaotic driving antics of Kenyans. It was a relief to see our hotel at the end of the boulevard.

Tomorrow at this time we will be in Qatar during a five hour layover and by morning we’ll be having coffee and a croissant with our friend Lisa in Paris.










Friday, June 10, 2011

Egypt Myramid


Sharon happy to arrive to the land of a new democracy

 
Revolution without a solution

Night time arrival to Cairo crossing the Nile River bridge
For three weeks prior to our scheduled flight into Cairo I carefully monitored the news regarding any unrest within Cairo or the country itself. Everyone warned us of what could happen and the high risk factor traveling within a country dominated with so many conflicting factions vying for power and control since the over throw of Hosni Mubarak and his family of thieves.  For this reason I chose to move forward with our plans because I had a hunch of what I might discover to be true. These people need our dollars more than ever. But as a precaution upon our arrival, I booked a hotel in advance near the Great Pyramids in Giza and requested a driver to wait at the airport to avoid any chaos because our flight was scheduled to touch down in the early evening hours.
The "pyramid view" from our room

We boarded the Metro train in Athens, Greece in the afternoon, airport bound, the same train I had my wallet nicked upon arrival back from Crete just days prior, this time with half as many people and my waist pack tucked inside my locked duffel. Replacement debit and credit cards were due to arrive in Nairobi Kenya in a week so the timing of our four days in Egypt I estimated should work out well.

The powerful Mobius Star
We arrived into Cairo around 8:30 PM and waited for the luggage but only half the luggage of the entire plane seemed to arrive while the other half of the passengers including us stood looking at the empty conveyor nonplused.  I couldn’t believe Egyptair would lose half the luggage on a direct flight but...20 minutes later the conveyor began moving again and our luggage finally popped out of the stainless steel chute onto to the belt.  During the wait I tried to see out into the waiting area if anyone was waiting with a sign bearing our name though the distance was far, I thought I saw a person waving at me.

My five minute visit to the Sphinx
With luggage on our backs and in our hands we skirted by security out into the international arrival area and indentified our name among the many placards posted in the hands of others waiting. Our driver introduced himself as Mohammad and we walked into the parking garage together. The airport being quite away from Giza we had plenty of time to exchange personal information about each other along with occasional breaks when the driver directed our attention to a point of interest while he negotiated the hectic traffic. As we drove across the Nile River I saw many cars parked off to the side on the bridge so I requested him to stop for a photo. It was very dark and the image wasn’t clear but I snapped a quick shot of our driver got back into the car and within minutes we arrived to the gates of our hotel compound. I say “compound” because everything other than the general public is under the watch of armed security guards. The guard opened the gates, the doorman collected our bags and we bid farewell to Mohammed but not before setting a time to meet him and his boss downstairs the next morning to discuss a tour of the Great Pyramids, the Sphinx, and other less important sites which would take up the whole day and the following day. We quickly discovered anywhere we wanted to go or explore had to be with an escort. This made our visit restrictive and confining.
The epic center to the newest democracy

The Grand Pyramid Hotel is a five story 1980’s style boxy L shaped building with a large pool and a couple mediocre restaurants. As for our room, I requested we face the Great Pyramid when I made the reservation. We stepped into our average sized room, threw back the curtains to see the view of the pyramids. The prominent items first catching my eye was the elevated freeway, the second was large concrete apartment cubes and finally the top 25% of the pyramid behind the buildings. Well the hotel didn’t lie it just wasn’t like the view of the Acropolis we had in Athens. After a quick shower, we collapsed into our beds to be refreshed for the next morning’s tour.
Mubarak's burnt out HQ overlooking the Cairo Museum

During our entire stay we had conflicting reports from everyone we met about walking around by ourselves without a guide or a bodyguard. The conversation usually went like this, “Egypt is perfectly safe but don’t leave your hotel by yourselves,” and always our driver’s insistent reminder ”don’t trust anyone.” Ummm….safe but not too safe. To be honest the revolution has put 40% or more of the population out of work and if you happened to be employed you can expect to be paid less than five dollars a day. The economy is a disaster. Tourism, the main source of Egypt’s revenue has dropped off more than 80% leaving the hotel industry in shambles, the tour companies and the vendors who feed off the tours, in total desperation.  Most of the citizen’s attitude reflects a conflict of joy for their freedom but general unhappiness clouds them, which brings about a bit of fear from tourists.

We arrived at the Great Pyramids at 10AM the next morning only to discover we were the only tourists visiting at that time. Can you imagine one of the most important man made wonders in the world having two tourists show up on a beautiful day mid morning? At first one would think this is a great opportunity for us except we were the only possible customers for every trinket salesman, camel ride hawker, horse cart driver, and tour guide in the whole site when there should be thousands of possible customers. HELP!  How many times can we say no or no thank you in one day?  We honestly felt sorry for all these vendors still I developed a callus attitude until we visited the historical mosque on our last day when a young man came up to us after we thwarted all the other sellers of trinkets and he spilled his guts about knowing we didn’t want to buy any of his merchandise but this is the only way he can make a living in this collapsed economy. There are no jobs for any young person yet he still needs to somehow feed himself and help with his family. He went to on explain how once the revolution started it was joyous and wonderful but the daily needs still exist. Though the revolution brought freedom it has chased away all the tourism and when there was once a thousand visitors standing where we were six months ago, only a half dozen now exist making the odds of selling anything slim to none. I bought a change purse of some sort to allow him to eat that day only hoping that some other person does the same tomorrow for this articulate young man with a college degree in business.

When I purchased the series of tickets at the entry gate, one of them was to enter the Grand Pyramid and walk up into the very top chamber of the pyramid. The corridor leading to the top was a small passage mostly constructed as a tight tunnel requiring us to travel on our hands and knees until you reach past the halfway point. If you have the least bit of claustrophobia this passage surely would start to bring on a bit of anxiety and fortunately there was hardly anyone there. I couldn’t image navigating this passageway with hundreds of others. The passage was both up and down and the size wouldn’t allow for passing except maybe a small child. When we reached the top chamber I was surprised to see about six people sitting meditating plus one meditating person lying in a stone body sized sarcophagus with the lid slid half off. The air was stagnant and heavy with a single low wattage bulb providing a sip of light for viewing. Sharon and I sat and began some mediation of our own. I began my breathing bringing my mind to a languid state when suddenly I saw a bright cerulean blue flash. It startled me and as fast as it came it left and never returned. A few minutes later we got up and began our decent back into the bright surroundings of the site and the throngs of vendors.

A candid shot of our happiness leaving Egypt
Before we left Bisbee we were given a Mobius star from John Gallaher to be placed on the west side of the Grand Pyramid. The charm was only the size of a quarter and this request seemed to be an easy one to do but we didn’t plan on being the only tourists walking around the site. Trying to get some time by ourselves to place the Mobius suddenly was a major challenge. First we had to shake the vendors away, then this pyramid was the only structure that was roped off keeping you 20 feet away from its base with guards posted at each of the corners and then our driver saw us leave the entry into the pyramid and decided to follow us in his car requesting we get in so he could drive us to the other sites. We repeated our request many times to leave us alone for a few minutes because we had something to do. Suspiciously he drove off to a meeting point we agreed on during our repartee. We waited on several attempts to allow guides and guards to clear. Our plan needed to be quick. I photographed the Mobius in the hand of Sharon, took the piece in my hand and wondered up to the rope barrier. Sharon was ten yards away with the camera to capture the placement. With me giving the signal, I threw up my hand like I was pointing to the top and threw the Mobius making it to about the third stone level. Not as far as I wanted but far enough out of eye shot to any passerby. No one suspected anything and we continued on our walk up to our impatient driver. He didn’t appreciate us ignoring his direction and finally we succumbed and he finished our tour of the pyramids and drove us to the Sphinx. Driving to the Sphinx was a bit strange because when he pulled into a small parking area next to the site which was less than five minutes from the pyramids, a guard chased us away and he had to park on the small pot holed dirt road, let us out for a photo and told us to return quickly. It was weird but I got my photos and allowed myself a couple minutes more to take in the site before I could see he was anxious to go. 

A few days after we left Cairo we heard a news story about new Egyptian symbols had been discovered on the west side of the Grand Pyramid discovered by a robotic camera.  Was it coincidence or the power of the Mobius Star?

We returned to our hotel and that night we discussed some of our observations between us and with some other visitors from Santa Fe, New Mexico. Cairo and Giza are overrun with trash and buildings in total disrepair along with hundreds of unfinished buildings. The disrepair I can somewhat understand because no one can afford to patch or put a coat of paint on anything but the trash strung streets are a matter of community pride. It takes only a little effort to make a difference to bring the standard from total despair to poor especially if so many aren’t working anyway. It doesn’t sound like much but it shows that people care about there surroundings. India’s people make an effort creating such a difference in appearance and health. Egypt has been beaten to a slow death by the previous Mubarak government ignored reinvestment into his people and country. Instead this prick squirreled away billions of dollars in banks and real estate. This is most obvious when visiting the National Museum in Cairo located near Tahrir Square, the revolution epicenter. Outside the building looks inviting but once inside all the national treasures are barely lit if at all, the walls are literally crumbing, glass on the display cases haven’t been cleaned in years, the papyrus paintings are fading to nothing because of the UV light pouring in the clear story windows, and the cases protecting these relics could be compromised without any effort. Considering the importance of this collection, it’s care has been shamefully been ignored the past 30 years of greediness by the Mubarak regime. It’s no wonder the government building next to the museum still bears the charring of the revolution and should remain as a reminder until the rest of Cairo is rebuilt. With the 30 million people in Cairo and Giza alone, the city deserves to be the Paris of North Africa but as it stands now, only a miracle could bring relief to these people to meet their basic needs.  

During our stay in Giza we felt trapped within our neat little compound and nothing outside enticed us to venture beyond the tourist destinations. I tried hard to understand but I couldn’t get past the extreme hardship these people are enduring. The freedom they fought for now seems empty and I could only offer a replay when asked about democracy by the few inquisitive Egyptians, “It takes time “ and they asked “How can I feed my children tonight?” I fell silent.

I pray their elections scheduled for September and November prove hopeful but in the meantime there will be millions in Cairo going to bed hungry each night with very little hope in sight.