Siwa - Desert Day

10am we open the door and instead of a pair of donkey's we have a jeep to jump in as today we're going in to the desert. I knew that they needed permissions to travel in to the desert and the original programme Ludmilla suggested included staying overnight in the desert and then going sandboarding (!) but I'd said we weren't up for these, but couldn't exactly remember what we had booked. So it was going to be a surprise where we ended up today!

First we travelled along beside the lake and a canal. It turns out that infact there is too much water in Siwa as not enough of it is bottled, but when it settles it forms a lake that is lower than the water table, so in fact is salty. It was fascinating to hear about the water and agriculture and tourism in Siwa from our guide (supplemented by conversations with Ludmilla in the evenings).

We then weaved our way around the gardens and small villages on the outskirts of Siwa. The gardens were interlaced with small canals to bring the water closer to the date palms and olive trees that form the main crops for export from Siwa (although other crops are grown, they are consumed within the home, or swapped with neighbours). Emerging from the narrow road the drive slipped into 4x4 for the first time as we came across a stinky sticky muddy patch.

On the asphalt again and we are faced with huge cliffs that are dotted with small black squares. These are all tombs and as we explore we see that the mountain is littered with them. These are from Roman times so not as old as the Mountain of the Dead we visited yesterday. Our Siwan guide points out a few things but then leaves us to explore. We stop at three different tombs sites, some cut out of the cliffs or rock, others reached on a bed of sand. The final set of them are a steep sandy climb away. These are less visited and some bones lie sunbleached at their lip.

We're edging our way in to the desert now and have been driving off-road and through the sand for about an hour when we stop at this final set of tombs. Our driver points the way and as we walk and explore he parks the jeep high on a dune and props the bonnet open to top up the radiator. When we amble over having had our fill of exploring we find him preparing a lunch of salads with a pile of baladi bread. We tuck on sitting on the rugs that were in the boot and the low table that has been balanced on the roof rack. When we finish eating suddenly two men appear from nowhere. They've walked to our jeep from who knows were (there is some green about showing water, but we can't see a village or a vehicle). Apparently they've lost their camel - have we seen it? No. They don't seem too fussed and walk off saying that it will have to come back anyway when it needs more water!

When we drive off from here we can still see green, but a few twists and turns later over the sands and we stop and turn around - nothing but desert is around us. Wow.

 

The next few stops - who knows how he finds them - we look for fossils. We'll be going along sand and suddenly the ground will get firmer and rockier and then crunchy. Each crunch is going over another shell and we stop to find shells and sea urchins in the white rock. It is just doesn't seem real to think that this oasis that is miles and miles in to the sand sea was once not just near the sea, but under the sea enough to form the sandstone and fossils here today.

We go further into the dunes and then we sea an abandoned oasis coming up. The lake is large, but too salty for any use to people now. We stop and Scotty and I go in for a dip while M&D look at the birds and wade in the water. Our driver/guide makes a small fire and brew up a kettle of tea. First we have Siwan tea which is so strong you could almost cut it. Then we have mint tea and some date biscuits. We learn a new technique for mixing sugar with the tea without a spoon. First you pour most of the tea into the largest glass (Siwan tea is served in almost shot glasses, but one is always larger than the others). Then you add a layer (!) of sugar to is. Return this to the pot and swirl and then pour again in to the largest glass. Our guide repeats this until it is mixed into a lovely sweet mixture.

It's nearly 5pm so when we pile into the jeep we expect to be heading home and would not be surprised if this oasis that feels miles and miles from anywhere turns out to be just a dune top away from civilisation. Our driver starts heading for the dune, but instead of following tracks we can see in the sand he crosses them at right angles. We're not just heading for the dunes, but the biggest dune, and for the very top of it. Surely some mistake? No - this jeep is going sand surfing!

We crest the dune and it feels almost vertical when we look down and start our descent. Wow - we did not expect this. We squeal with a combination of child-like glee and nervousness and we descend into the bowl of the dune. That was amazing. We don't stop there but keep going. Somehow the driver knows where he is going and how to read each dune. In this light it's difficult to see where the dune crests, let alone any idea of what might be the other side of it until you get to its peak. Just amazing. His confidence (in our enjoyment, rather than his skills which remain unbelievable) grows and now he is stopping at their very peaks and coasting down - sometimes managing to stop half way down as we are all leaning forward with the pull of gravity towards the bonnet. We go for over an hour like this and it is pure fun for us all.

Suddenly he says "I will show you the black rock that came from the sky" and over the next dune is the scattered remains of what was once a meteor now a speck in the middle of this dust desert. How he found it we cannot fathom but he just laughs and says "This is my home. I have been driving here for 20 years"

We stop at the top of a dune and he says "We have a good sand sea here?" As we chime in approval he asks us if we want to sand board now. The combination of our aging aches and pains makes us decline but he finds us the top of a dune overlooking the town of Siwa in the distance now while the sun sets against the sands to the west. What a day!

Siwa - Historical Sites by Donkey

We opened the front door on the first morning at 10am to find two donkey carts waiting for us outside; this was to be our mode of transport for the day! We jumped on and soon found the right way to lean to avoid falling out (they tipped backwards slightly) or clunking your head on the roof as you got on. Dad reckoned that the rocking did more for his back than the massage he'd had two days before!





 First stop was the Mountain of the Dead and we visited four different tombs there. It was amazing to see the painting that had survived in some vivid reds and thick blues. Most of the painted tombs though had been damaged though when  the Siwans actually moved into the tombs to live during the War to avoid bombings and troops who had come to the oasis. So sad that they survived so long and then were gone so quickly.

We then went to the Temple of Amun and had another gorgeous view of the sprawling oasis and decaying hills of the Shali. Travelling by donkey cart wasn't too bad after we got used to it. It also meant we could easily watch the world go by. Our morning ended at Cleopatra's Pool where both Scotty and I had a dip (I in my shirt as the town is a lot more conservative than elsewhere in Egypt). The water was lovely and warm - just perfect for a dip. Scotty managed to dive down and see the bubbles of gas come up from the natural spring and dad dipped his toes being careful not to slip on the algea growing on the steps.

Siwa

Going to Siwa and getting out to the desert was always on our "to do" list for Egypt, but once we started diving it wasn't too far up! Also we knew it wasn't practical to do as a pair because of the transport costs and we knew we needed more than a long weekend to get there, do stuff and get back! With M&D coming out and us having a bit of holiday while they were here we thought it would be a good thing to do as they'd said before that they wanted to explore. (we had originally planned to go to Fayoum, but with the revolution and all that we thought that an organised trip to Siwa might be better than a self-organised trip to Fayoum as in Fayoum we'd have to be independent travellers)

Siwa was looking sorted though following a tip from a friend who went there last term and stayed in a self-catering villa (Somewhere Different). The villa looked awesome; built in the traditional style right in the heart of the town. The company also offered tours, but they looked different from your bog standard touristy tour as the main one visiting historical sites mentioned a donkey ride!

It was Tom's wedding on the Friday of our Easter break, so we set off on Saturday morning feeling rather tired but knowing we can sleep on the journey. It's a 10 hour drive from Cairo to Siwa (as you have to travel north to Alex for 200km, then west to Marsa Matrouh for 300km and finally south for another 300km) and although we've heard you can get micro buses we didn't fancy the potential frustration and confusion that the journey might cause so we've got a minibus organised through Somewhere Different.

Journey is long and the three stretches all rather different. First it's driving through quite Cairo at 8am in the morning and then getting on to the new Alex road. This is a toll road and where the speed bumps cause drivers to slow for the toll, enterprising men have set up stalls selling snacks, teas or walking sticks! The Alex road doesn't particularly hug the river, so although we see some crops it is rather barren. Then we hit the coast road with the beautiful blue Med by our side. The quality of the road is rubbish and Scotty and I find our sleeping very much disturbed by huge jolts to the back of the head as we run over the bumps in the road. 200km in to this stretch and the lone man at the railway crossing waves us down. We have a puncture which allows a dune-aided loo stop, but not for long as they soon change the tyre and we're off again. It's been 7 hours now and we're only just making the turn from Marsa Matrouh to Siwa. Yesterday a friend told us that the journey is not too bad and once you reach Marsa Matrouh you are half-way there. God I hope not! That means another 7 hours - no way. Luckily the friend is wrong and the 300km stretch of road is the bets we've travelled on - it only takes us 3 hours to hair down it through rocky desert until we drop down into the oasis.


The villa itself was just brilliant. It had been built in the traditional mud brick style but the finish meant that it was very liveable! Getting inside you see why they use the mud brick as even though no air con had been on all day the main room was lovely and cool. In the main room were two large wooden dining tables and a cabinet with a well stocked book shelf on Siwa, Egypt and the desert. Over the few days we were there we took advantage of this to brush up on Siwa traditions and see if there were any gaps in our own expanding Egypt book collection! Behind the main room was a little bedouin zone with lower seating and high bright windows that managed some how to let the sun in but remain cool. What was great about the villa set-up too was that the kitchen was well enough stocked for self catering, but also had basic ingredients and breakfast essentials; eggs, tomatoes, jams, butter, yogurt etc and in the morning we would find a bag of fresh bread on the outside door handle ready for us! The best bit in the fridge was the surprise hit of the break; sycamore jam. It turns out that the wild sycamore in Siwa is very much like a fig and this jam was basically figs in syrup - yum!

View of the Shali from the roof terrace

Relaxation at last on the roof terrace

We didn't use the villa to cook dinner in, just breakfasts, but instead when to the Albabenshall which was a hotel on the main square backing on to the old Shali. Their roof terrace was a great place to watch the main square's lights come on in an evening and then glance up to the amazing shadows and shapes cast by the crumbling Shali. Food delights that we had their included a salad of greens, couscous and chicken with a Sycamore dressing (now savoury, rather than sweet), camel stew (which both Dad and Scotty rated highly) and a chocolate date cake (a chocolate volcano cake with a lovely date syrup ooozing out). It turns out that Siwa is "dry" and so our evening treat was a glass of lemon juice!

Our time in Siwa was short and so we had a fair amount that we wanted to pack in. I took the recommendations of Ludmilla who organises the Somewhere Different villa in Siwa and we had a tour of the historical sites on the first day and then a day in the desert for the second.

View from the Shali towards the Mountain of the Dead. The decaying mud brick homes mingle with those still inhabited and those renovated.

View from the Shali towards one of the smaller villages that makes up Siwa. Some tombs in the hillside are illuminated.

The old mud homes that made up the Shali fort illuminated by the moon on our second night.

The End of Term to end all end of terms!

When we came back to school on 20th February we were just thinking "week-to-week" as the situation was so variable. We were never sure if one day something would happen and we would close again. We were never thinking; 20th Feb until 14th April; that's 8 weeks to get through.

As the first few weeks passed there were ups and downs; having the majority of students in was good, going around the streets and the pictures on the TV were more positive, but the realisation that we'd lost two weeks teaching (and although we were back in school no student was 100% focused) but still had exams to prep for, and the sudden tank presence when there was a sign of trouble, was a concern. But we got through it. It just wore us down.

It was back at uni when we had 8-week terms and the "fifth-week blues" would set in, but here they were again. Both of us were tired, a little grumpy, things were unsettling, annoying, fustrating, then we'd be exhausted and agitated, when small things went wrong they'd turn in to big things. It goes on. This was the fifth week blues alright, but we knew it was just a few more weeks until it would be over because we had the holiday coming up and the exam classes and deadlines would arrive.

Just a few more weeks.

Just as we think we can make it to the end, things start going into overdrive. Two weeks before the end of term I drop my camera (previous blog post) - not a disaster, but annoying - then I manage to destroy my mooncup - again no disaster, but annoying and a sign of weariness. At work things aren't so great either as the whole of the online learning platform that Scotty runs at work goes caput in a worldwide hacking attempt. A combination of bad luck through the hacking and lost back-ups means the last full version is three weeks old. While Scott is not responsible for any of this it is a huge burden to try and sort out and field enquiries from staff and students. Entering the last week of term we also have one of the hellish drives home. The drive home can take under 30 mins if the roads are totally clear, but normally takes about 40 mins. This time though it took over 2 1/2 hours as the ring road was solid with traffic due to an oil tanker crashing and spilling its load all over the road.

My parents are with us by this point and we have a great weekend with them including a trip to the delta to explore the ancient sites of Bubastis and Tanis (see other blog post). It's a nice distraction from work to come home and see them. You'd think this would be the end of our nightmare term, but it's got a final few things to throw at us!

A week and a half later on from discovering the hacking attempt/backup problem, Scott finally manages to solve the problem, but within 24-hours the internet at work goes down! It turns out someone has stolen the copper cables it runs on (again). This fustrates everyone as we are in the dieing days of term and no way to check emails or the web. In this time I also find out that we've been randomly selected for an audit of our CAS pogramme, so I need to find evidence of what we do and write an evaluation document.

Then on the Wednesday evening (one day of term left!) we come home and M&D say that the water has been off. We tend to not have as many water cuts as other apartments, but they do happen, so we're not totally surprised. When they say that it has been out since mid-morning though we think that sounds a little strange, so I head upstairs to our neighbour to ask if they also have no water. It turns out to be affecting everyone she says, as they only have very little water (we can get a dribble through the kitchen tap). Oh well - one more thing, but with a trip to the Mall to use their bathrooms before bed (!) we'll get through it.

Thursday morning and the water still isn't on when we leave for work. At work it's at the back of our minds, but we figure it can't keep being off forever. It's a blow then to come home on the last day of a hellish term to find the water still off. That's 36 hours with no water and no explanaition. M&D say that Fatma, our cleaner, spoke to Badry, oue bowab, who said that the water would be turned on again at lunch time. We decide to give him a little longer, so I pop upstairs to check with the neighbour who says with surprise that she has had her water back since last night! Meanwhile Scott hears a noise downstairs and it's Badry cleaning the steps using a water hose. What's going on? Scott gets Badry to come up and take a look and he soon gets on his phone - apparently also surprised that we don't have water. Maybe 30 minutes later a plumber shows up (who fortunatly carries more equipment that most other tradesmen who get by with a hammer and a screwdriver it seems). He bashes around at the inlet pipe a bit and then comes to a conclusion; the pipe entering the apartment (not the building) is blocked, so he will have to clean it.

Finally an answer about what is going on!

This is one of the most fustrating things about living here is that when things go wrong there is no recourse and no straighforward way to deal with them. If the water wasn't working in the UK you'd know where the stop cock was in the flat, you'd be able to look outside and see if they are digging up the road, and if they're not you'd be able to find Thames Waters' number to call them. Here plumbers may be cheap, but he's got no real way of explaining to us what the problem is - or why it has happened.

He tells us he can come back to clean and fix it, but not tonight, nor tomorrow (Friday) or Saturday, so he will come on Sunday. Well we're not here on Sunday as we'll be in Siwa. Great.

I get the plumbers phone number from Badry and then call our landlord and ask him if he can call the plumber and be here when the plumber visits. He says he is busy, but OK.

Again - in the UK you'd know where you stood with this sort of thing. Here it feels like I am asking a huge favour for the landlord to deal with the fact that by Sunday it will be 5 days without water in the apartment! What the landlord is most concerned about is that the apartment isn't flooded ("The water is broken?" me: "Yes", "So there is water in the apartment?" "No. There is no water in the apartment" "Oh. So what is the problem?" "There has been no water for five days, this is the problem")

Needless to say, Scotty and I aren't in the greatest of moods. We've finally got to the end of term and then this! This was not the end of term we had in mind! Still - the plumber knows what the problem is, he will come and fix it on Sunday and we've got a holiday to go on! We give La Rosa a quick call to check they have a table and then set off with a bottle of red to have a lovely dinner (and use their bathroom of course!).


Tuesday 19th at 6.40pm
It's taken us 10 and a half hours to drive from Siwa back home and although the minibus isn't that bad (we've got seats for 8 people and it's just the four of us we're glad to be home. A quick flick of the tap though and we see that the water situation hasn't changed. We knew it!
I try calling the landlord, but no answer. So on to Plan B....a friend has given us the number of the plumber she uses, so I try calling Abu Youssef.
When she said his English wasn't great she was right, but I tried in my basic arabic to explain "Salem. El bait mafish meya" trans. "Hello. My house no water" He recognises two things; my lack of arabic and my desparation. So he puts a few friends on the line who have slightly better English and I repeat my plea. Eventually I get a "Meshi. Wahed Sanna" which suggests he will come in an hour.

My phone then rings and it's the landlord. He tells me that he has been too busy at work to come over, but that he rang the plumber and the plumber did come around on Sunday, but our "servant" (!) wasn't there. This is classic - why can no one communicate properly? If only he'd told us he couldn't come around (instead of saying yes he could) or had told us when the plumber would come, then we would have asked Fatma to stay in. He asks if he should call the plumber now and get him to come around. I decline, as although I'm not 100% convinced by Abu Youssef I will give him a chance as I don't want what is bound to then happen; two plumbers to turn up and start fighting about the job!

Phone rings again and it's now Abu Youssef again - it's just 30 minutes later and he is on our street calling to check the address (well he finds someone who speaks excellent English to call and find out the address!)

Soon enough he arrives and the bowab's wife brings him to the apartment along with the bowab. They both tinker in the pink bathroom with the inlet pipe and then there is some bashing and the sound of gushing water. A good sign, maybe?

It takes about 30 minutes in all (and a few towels and a mop) for him to deal with whatever was blocking the inlet pipe. He and the bowab clean up and bit and check that al the taps are working - even the toilet is making that annoying gurgle sound as it fills up.

50LE job done! We finally get down to some dinner in peace and quiet and with running water. Lots of showers, laundry and showers will soon test it to the extreme.


Wednesday 20th at 10am
The phone rings and it's Abu Youssef "Meya quias?" I laugh, "awya, meya quais. Shukran awi!" That's nice - he's called to check that the water was still ok :)


I know this has been a long post, but I thought I needed to chronical something about the craziness that was the end of this term!

Tanis and Bubastis

Scotty and I went on a tour of Tanis and Bubastis, sites of ancient egypt in the delta area in our first year here. We enjoyed the trip, but vowed that we would go again. With M&D coming out and know that they enjoy exploring off the beaten track and especially around the delta we thought this was a good chance to do it again.

What's great about the sites is that they are so far in to the delta that hardly any tourists visit them. So at both sites we were the only people there. The other great thing is hat both are live excavation sites which means there are active archeological digs going on (although not constantly there are digs every year). Also the finds remain in situ, rather than on display in an ordered way. This means it feels very "Indiana Jones" when you walk around as everything is as it is found and you feel like youre discovering it and having to interpret what everything means yourself.

Our guide for the day was very good - informative but not too clingy. He gave us a good introduction to each site and pointed things out, but then let us explore ourselves. He also was quite engaging as we drove around the delta between the sites (it took 3 hours from Cairo to Tanis via Ismalia, then another two hours to Tanta and another two hours home - so there was a lot of driving around!), answering our questions about life in the delta and life in Egypt after the revolution.

Driving around the delta too it was amazing to see all the agriculture there - everything is just fields with amazing canals to feed them. It was so tempting to stop by the road and buy some of the fruit and veg they were selling - we knew nothing could be fresher. Dad's holiday obsession with dove cots started here and we all enjoyed seeing real Egypt. A slower form of transport might allow us to see more (Pharonic run for 100km through the delta maybe??) but at least we could see it.

Tasting #jan25

Good Day, Bad Day

Went down to Tahrir this morning with two girl friends as AUC (American University in Cairo) was holding a bookfair at their campus. The square was a lot quieter than it was when Scotty and I went to the museum (and this was a Saturday morning, rather than the traditionally quieter Friday morning). It was quite sad to come up from the Metro and see the roundabout in its original function; bare of any tented covering.
I noticed walking around the side streets near the square that a lot of the pavements need repairing - they must have been the ones pulled up during the Revolution to be smashed into rocks. There were t-shirt sellers still out and one friend bought some t-shirts for her family back home. I picked up a "calendar" of sorts that charts only the days of the revolution with photos and a few words.

The book fair was interesting. Apparently there were some talks on, but we just wandered around for 1 1/2 hours looking at the stalls of the different publishers and crafts there. I bought a fridge magnet in the style of a street sign saying Tahrir Square (20LE) and then some cartoon postcards of typical scenes in Cairo (2LE each). On to the books and I didn't buy any from the actualy publishers themselves - although I did look at their stalls - but instead we had a field day at the AUC Press Discount area. They had a whole table full of textbooks that were only 10LE, then the room was split in two with non-fiction being 3 for 100LE and fiction being 5 for 100LE. The multi-buy books were non-AUC Press books, but they did have some AUC Press books at 20% off in another area. I managed to limit myself to one small "text book" (that is actually a personal account of expat life in Cairo in the 1940's) and a set of five fiction (I originally picked up just three fiction as I got the bargain the wrong way around, but the teller corrected me!).

So, a good day.

Except then on the way home I got my camera out to take a few pictures of some revolution street art and managed to drop it right on the lens. It's well a truely broken which makes me very sad as the only reason it's destroyed is because o fmy clumsiness. Also it's less than 6 months old and takes brilliant pictures. Bad day. I won it in a competition and so can't be too upset. At home we look online and to buy the model brand new is less than I thought, and the next model up is just a fiver more. So I've ordered myself the model up and will try and sell this old one on ebay or see if it is possible to get it fixed when we get to the UK in the summer.

Good and bad together might be our Egypt Today magazine expereince. I was really excited, and blogged, when we recieved in January our first post to the apartment; our subscription to Egypt Today magazine. The next issue was obviously delayed in being published because of the revolution, but I did see it in the shops in mid-February and as we hadn't recieved our copy I bought one (not wanting to miss out on any revolution expereince!). I assumed that there had been a problem in distribution, which was quite understandable. When we didn't recieve our March edition though I was a little more worried. I managed to email ET and ask them what was happening. The reply I got was that they had been delivered, to a "Badry Mohamed" (our bowab). Erm - so why don't I have them? I've been wandering around for two weeks now with an old copy of ET in my bag just in case I bump into the bowab and can show him the magazine and ask him where the copies are (when I say "ask", I mean look at him and point to the magazine and say "fein?" (where?))

Today though, Badry came to collect his montly pay and I saw my chance. I came to the door with his 100LE (I think the real charge is just 35LE but we always pay more as we're happy to) and an old copy of ET. I pointed and he looked a little bemused but then said a few words and went away. I wasn't sure if I'd asked him if he had my copies, or maybe inadvertently asked him to go buy me a copy from the newsagents! 10 minutes later the bell goes and it's Badry's wife a toddler son. She has the two magazines that I'm missing - Good Day.

A final errand of the day sees me go to Road 233 to try and get a new battery for our Nokia visitor phone which has crashed out. The first place I head to has them - new, not reconditioned - and the price is about the same as on ebay, so job done. On my way back I pass a grocers and decide that I may as well pick up some more toms to make into pasata and bananas for snacks next week. "Wahed kilo mooz" I ask for, but it seems a huge number of bananas that are going in to my bag. I think he has mis-heard my arabic and I'm actually getting "Wahed kilo w' nos" Oh well!

Only a week until M&D get out here and then another week until we have Easter. We are very very much looking forward to the break. It's turned in to a really hard term since we came back at the end of February