Superhotbutterwoman Returns

Carved columns at Habu Temple

Having slipped and slid my way around the Cairo train station before, I expected no problems sauntering up and purchasing a ticket for the sleeper car to Upper Egypt.  I knew how to get there.  I knew where the ticket office was.  I had even previously been assured that though you're only supposed to pay with dollars or euros that I could complete the transaction with Egyptian pounds.  This overconfidence should have given me pause.  I requested a ticket for that night.  No train tonight.  Tomorrow?  No train tomorrow.  When will there be a train?  A shrug of the shoulders, a very expressive version of the gesture from the man behind the window.  Why?  The big why is why I ever ask why.
Does it matter?  Does it change the fact that I'm not taking the train in that direction any time soon?  No and no.  Why do I still, why do I ever, ask why?  The answer was interesting though; protests in Qena, north of Luxor, had blocked the tracks.  A to-do over the nomination of a new governor who was both Coptic Christian and associated with the former regime.  An unpopular choice.  I could have told the powers that be that.  But my having that kind of foresight didn't get me closer to Luxor.  I got conflicting advice about buses running, and just because a bus is running doesn't necessarily mean that they'll sell a foreigner a ticket under such circumstances.  They've got some silly rules about foreigners moving about the country that predate the revolution, our ostensibly for our safety, and aggravate me considerably.  I'll discuss them on my next post.  That left Egypt Air as my only sure route south.

It turned out all right, as it almost always does - at least for me.  Just after buying my ticket, I walked out on the street and saw a probable shoplifter experience the hard boots of street justice, which was scary.  Once a cop arrived to save the poor boy from any more kicks to the head, I dashed away, hustling through the street rather than the packed sidewalk, which was wall to wall dudes rubbernecking.  I wouldn't say that physical violence is a common street scene in Egypt, but one thing I do know is that when strangers start wailing on each other and I don't know what it's about or how to improve the situation, it's time for me to get the hell out of there.

Luxor Temple in late afternoon

By the next afternoon, I was in Luxor, ready to absorb the glories of ancient Thebes.  Do not believe the sorry misrepresentations Las Vegas may have given you regarding Luxor.  It doesn't even have a pyramid.  All the pyramids, so far as I'm aware, are in Lower Egypt, near Cairo and the ancient capital of Memphes.  But Luxor has no need of those showy triangular tombs because it has almost everything else.  Imposing and beautiful temple right on the banks of the Nile smack in the middle of town with an avenue leading to it flanked by seventy sphynx (there were originally 600!)?  Yes, Luxor Temple.  The largest religious structure ever built just a couple of kilometers north of town?  Yes, that would be Karnak Temple Complex.  Dozens of elaborate tombs carved deep into rock and covered in painted representations of starry skies, the gods giving life to pharoahs, and heiroglyphics saying I don't know what?  Sure, they've got two of those - the Valley of the Kings and Valley of the Queens.  The kingly version is where Howard Carter poked about and discovered Tutankamen's second burial spot.  The original one was disturbed shortly after he was buried, so the priests of the time hustled about and found a small, unimpressive tomb to throw all the riches and mummied rams in (I'm not making this up, mummified animals were definately part of the scene, and you haven't lived until you've seen a mummified baboon).  They managed to flummox tomb raiders for centuries with that dodge, and King Tut's tomb is still the only one where we have any tangible sense of the splendors a pharoah meant to take along with him, or occasionally her, on the afterlife ride.  Luxor also has Queen Hatshepsut's Funerary Temple, which is tastefully and extensively restored, giving you a wonderful sense of what these buildings were like before they became ruins.  There's also Habu Temple, one of my personal faves.  AND the Colossi of Memnon, all that remain of a temple complex that was bigger than Karnak was at that time, but was extensively damaged in the annual Nile flooding before the Nile was dammed south of Aswan.

Samara, Hassan, and Amira of Pharaoh Stables

These that I have mentioned are just the ones I saw over four intense days of sightseeing.  There are more.  From Day 1, where my pal, Greg, an Aussie who sat next to me on my flight to Luxor, and I went horseback riding around the West Bank, which is where most of these monuments, excepting Karnak and Luxor Temples, are, it was non-stop monument touring and sunstroke avoiding.  I exaggerate a bit because I did expect it to be hotter than it was, but it was still pretty scorching in that sun.  These buildings used to have roofs, and I, for one, would have preferred that the ancients, the olden time people, and the more modern residents of the greater Luxor area had kept the originals in good repair.  On the day we went to Karnak, we met a lovely Canadian couple with two great boys.  The oldest, all of 8 years old, knows more about ancient Egypt than I do and has a decent grasp on the common ideograms used in their art.  And he's hysterical and provided me with my latest favorite quote.  We were trudging around Karnak's endless pylons, dodging the sunny bits as much as possible, and Aidan casually drops that he's assumed his "superhero alter ego - Superhotbutterman, whose only weakness is heat," and whose "main enemy is the evil, villainous sun."  I think I'm Superhotbutterwoman myself though my superpower hasn't manifested itself, unless perhaps it's finding delicious uses for butter.  I hope Aidan doesn't mind a hanger-on so early in his superhero career, but it's just too awesome not to appropriate.

A beautiful bull sculpted at Queen Hatshepsut's Temple

 Not all monuments are created equal, and Luxor could give Howard Carter himself monument fatigue.  For the record, the Valley of the Kings is, in my opinion, a rip off.  Yes, the tombs are larger and more splendid than those found in the Queen's Valley, but entrance to the site itself of three times as much, most of the temples are closed, and the ones you really want to see require an additional surcharge of $9 to $14 USD.  And the valley is much larger, which means you're in the sun more, making you more likely to spend E₤20 on a cup of tea.  This is in a country where tea is routinely E₤2.

Not even American movie theaters extort their captive customers with 1000% markups.  If you find yourself here and you want to beat the crowds and save some dosh for baksheesh, hit up the Queens.  However, if you're a budding Egyptologist, then don't listen to me.

Threshing wheat by hand on the West Bank of Luxor

Thankfully, one needn't live exclusively in the ancient past while in Luxor.  Luxor town is predictably touristic, but not unbearable.  Horse-drawn caliches are a way to beat the heat and get to your destination with a better view than in any taxi. The West Bank, however, is a lovely alternative.  From there, you're closer to most of the monuments and you can take a quick E₤1 ferry ride 24 hours a day to cross the Nile if you need to get to the other side.  But the best thing is that you very quickly find yourself among hand-tended wheat and sugarcane fields.  Seeing the green fields and the barren mountains while circling ancient temples and medinas on horseback was such a nice way to get a sense of the area.  I would definitely recommend it and the family company we used, Pharaoh Stables, to any future Luxor visitors.

I would also recommend mastery of the phrase "La shokrun," which means "no, thank you."  You will need it.  And if you are female, even when accompanied by a male, be prepared for all sorts of questions and comments.  At this point, I think I really have heard it all from "how many camels" meaning how many camels I might be worth (this is always addressed to the man I'm with; you can guess how flattering I find this) to "ah, beautiful eyes" when I'm wearing sunglasses.  I've now taken to parroting back the questions called out to me repeatedly on the street.  Hi, where are you from?  I just ask it right back.  They say they're from Egypt, I say "ah, good country," just the way they say that stock phrase to me.  They say "only five pound for scarf."  I say, smilingly, "ten pound!" or "looking is free!" and keep walking.  I take my lines from their lines, and since Egyptians do have a very good sense of humor, it works out all right.  But the key is to keep walking.  You cannot pause; they will descend on you like you're the weak wildebeest, and they're the starving lion pride.  And given the state of this tourist season, that's not far off.

After running that guantlet at every site and most main thoroughfares in Luxor town, in addition to fighting the evil, villainous sun as Superhotbutterwoman for the better part of 5 days, I was ready for a change of pace.  And then, just like that, the government in Qena gave in, dropped the objectionable candidate, and train service was restored!  Greg and I went first class to the end of the line and the beginning of Nubia, of which I'll write more soon.