Egypt Blog  (Photos accompanying the blog at www.photos.maple3.co.uk)

 

Day 1

 

So here goes. Another holiday another blog. For once our flight out from a grey Gatwick is at a civilised time. That leaves plenty of time for the usual panic before we leave home. Mrs K was so worried about the baggage that she logged onto Easyjet this morning at 6am to pay for an additional bag - £16 - only to realise afterwards that it doesn't increase your weight allowance, only the number of bags you can check in.

We just about manage to squeeze the bags into the car but I worry about the journey back when we will have an extra person (Holly) and an extra bag. Should have put the roof pod on. Too late now.

The next mystery is how can Gatwick's Spanish owner be close to going under? It seems every shop in the North terminal has a long queue at the till and we have to wait in a line for ten minutes for the privilege of buying an FT and a packet of boiled sweets.  A quick tot up so far. £90 for the car park, £30 for breakfast, £20 in Smiths, £10 in HMV for Sian's new earphones and £50 for a new pair of trainers for me to replace the ones that I left at home this morning. After that, buying a new Chelsea shirt (just out today) for £35 hardly seems like an extravagance. So about 250 notes down already and I haven't had a beer yet. If Gatwick can't make money out of that then it doesn't deserve to be in business.

Blog writing has started early this trip as 'events' have occurred. During the bag search we donated yet another pair of scissors from Sian's pencil case. It must be one of the perks of the job if you work in security - you will never need to buy another pair of scissors again.

Now we are sitting on the tarmac, crammed into our seats, waiting for clearance to leave the gate. It could be worse. We could be on the plane at the end of the runway which is currently being evacuated as I write!  We don't know what is going on. Maybe some ryanair passengers were not told they had to pay extra to actually take off?

 

Our flight to Hughada is 5 hours so an extra hour stuck on the ground is not great, especially with a screaming toddler two rows in front. Happy holidays!

 

Day 2

All is well with the world now. We ended up being delayed for two hours on the tarmac at Gatwick which meant we only arrived at our hotel at 10pm last night, and only just in time for the buffet. But now I am in a horizontal position, nicely in the shade (about 38C) and about half an hour from my first beer of the day.

My first day blog turned out to be scoop for Jason. He is working at a news agency and was able to get onto the story about the emergency landing very early. See further down.

Arriving at Hurghada airport last night was an experience. As we disembarked from the transfer bus and entered the terminal building we were mobbed by an army of what I assume were hotel representatives. Even though they each held up cards with guest names they also felt the need the shout their hotel names at us. In the melee, we didn't hear ‘Sheraton’ so we fought our way through to the Visa desk. Now the process of obtaining a visa to some parts of the world can be quite a tortuous process but here in Hurghada you can get one in about 1 minute flat. It might have something to do with the fact that we paid $15 each (cash only) for the stamp in our passports and were given no receipt for payment. The hotel reps seem to be very interested in us getting to the vsa desks so they are probably in on the scam too.

We had a friendly driver from the hotel to meet us outside and he drove us along the coast (through the desert) in air-conditioned comfort to the hotel. However he did at times branch off into some attempts at humour which we didn't understand - something to do with white elephants riding bicycles in the Red sea(??). Must have got lost in translation.

From the comfort of my sun lounger, I have to head back to the room because Mrs K informs me from her prone position (and without opening her eyes) that she forgot to close the safe this morning. The hotel is vast and spread out on just a couple of floors. Despite being 'Platinum Elite' card holders and very welcome guests (we have been told that about 17 times so far) we are about as far back from the beach as you can get. I don't think there is much between our room and the Nile which is about 200km west apart from a few sand dunes and no doubt a few bedouin. We are so far from the reception that on the first evening the porter just pointed us in the direction of the room rather than taking us the whole way though he was probably working himself up to the task of shifting our luggage.

Actually, I have been asked to point out that we were well within the Easyjet weight allowance. Its true, we had 4 cases - half each for Sian, Anthony and me and 2.5 for Caroline. Its lucky I told her to pack lightly for this trip.

Despite all my efforts to be best prepared for this trip, my company supplied Tamiflu has been left behind. We have 3 types of sun cream, 4 skin lotions and a first aid bag which would make a St John's ambulance attendant green with envy but no protection against one of the worst pandemics of our lifetimes.  Paranoid? Yes. I now take my hat off to Peter and Maria who stocked up on Tamiflu about two months ago. Holly, bring the Tamiflu with you on Monday!

NSgat...(lead)...1
by Jason Keen

Gatwick airport was closed today/yesterday (Fri) when a passenger plane made an emergency landing after the pilot reported smoke in the cockpit.

 Crew members and 46 passengers were led from the Flybe turbo-prop plane by firefighters and the runway was closed for half-an-hour during the midday-drama.

 Flight number BE1432  - a Bombadier Dash 8 - took off from Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris and was headed to Cardiff Airport in Rhoose, South Wales,  when it was diverted and made its emergency descent.

 A spokesman for Gatwick operator BAA said: "It made an emergency landing with no injuries.

 "Our crews are dealing with it on the ground and a runway did close after the landing at 12.25pm but re-opened at 12.58pm."

 A Flybe spokesman said: "Flybe can confirm that Flight BE1432 flying from Paris Charles de Gaulle to Cardiff was diverted into London Gatwick landing at 12.26pm local time.

 "The priority landing, at which emergency vehicles were deployed by the airport as a precautionary measure, followed a suspected technical fault.

 "All 46 passengers disembarked safely and without incident and will be re-accommodated at the earliest possible opportunity.

"The safety of its passengers and crew is Flybe's number one priority."

Day 3

 

Mrs K is not happy.  She thinks my blog is just an opportunity to make fun of her.  How could she think such a thing?  I will be complimentary here but tomorrow evening, Holly will arrive so hopefully some new material there.  I am writing feeling extremely inadequate having read Colin’s blog with tales of trips to A&E, plaster up to the knee and communal showers with Joan.  Our holiday seems quite dull in comparison.

 

Today (Sunday) we decided to go snorkelling.  If you know Caroline’s attitude to boats you will realise that this was quite a big deal.  Actually I also have a tendency to get sea sick but with hardly a wave in sight across the bay we thought it would be safe.  We turned up at the allotted time, got kitted out with goggles, snorkel and flippers and headed off to the boat.  As we were the only ones that had signed up it was like a private trip.  After a 15 min journey out to the coral reef, our guide explained that the boat would drop us off and meet us at the other end of the reef.  This was only explained to us in rather broken English so when we had all plunged into the sea (which out here was much less glass-like) and the boat had sped off, it was time for Mrs K to start having a bit of a panic attack.  When the guide ‘reassured’ us by swimming to the bottom and letting us know it was only 11m deep, it didn’t really help matters.  But fair play to Caroline, she got on with it and started to get the hang of swimming with flippers and a snorkel.  Well there wasn't much choice to be honest.  We had a great time, swimming along the reef seeing all sorts of brightly coloured fish and at one point our guide caught up with a turtle and 'rode' it by hanging on to its shell.  Amazing.  We were in the water for about 45 minutes I think but the buoyancy of the salt water and the tide behind us made it quite easy and we were soon back on the boat for a breather.  From there we swam over to an island which was deserted except for a family complete with wife covered from head to toe in black.

 

The guests in the hotel seem to be mainly locals, Germans and French.  This probably explains why there are hardly any English speaking channels on the TV - have you ever watched 'Big' in Italian?  The staff are very friendly and the waiters are seemingly very happy in their work, sprinting around with beaming smiles the whole day long.  This includes the guy that serves drinks on the beach.  He fast walks up and down the beach for the smallest thing and doesn't ever appear to work up a sweat - something which I have no trouble doing just lying down. It was only 35C today, so relatively chilly but forecast to get back to 40C later this week and if we decide to visit Luxor we will have to brave temperatures of 45C.  Hmm, we'll see.

 

Day 4-5

Having been warned off making fun of Mrs K, material is harder to come by. Its also a reflection of us doing absolutely nothing.  On Monday morning Anthony woke with a dodgy tummy so we had a later than usual start and I also took the opportunity to skip breakfast to stay with him (I could still taste the previous night's steak). Anthony had also probably overindulged the previous evening, sampling from almost everything on the buffet. We are not sure yet if the buffet is supposed to be 'all you can eat' but Anthony was trying to put this to the test. After breakfast we all hung around in the room until about midday and then with our consciences satisfied we all left Anthony to it and headed off to the pool for the day

 

I must report that despite a distinct lack of activity, Mrs K's halo is still in place. She has been keeping to the diet and has been to the gym the last two mornings. My new trainers that were bought at the airport to replace the ones I left at home are still untouched and in pristine condition in my room.

 

The day we went snorkelling I got quite red on my back from the sun and only this morning has the soreness passed. This morning Holly was taking no chances and started applying sun cream at the breakfast table before even a sip of juice.

 

Mrs K told me that there was a hairdresser here at the hotel and as I had not had time for a cut before we came I decided to take advantage. We strolled over and while we were reading on the locked door that it opened at 10, the guy rolled up at 10.45. The next warning sign was that the place was called beauty saloon (not salon). He took some time getting ready so I waited patiently in the chair. First he seemed to struggle get the power to come on and then he spent about 5 minutes tuning the TV. I wouldn't have minded so much but the TV was out of my eyeline and apparently only for his viewing. He tuned it to a music channel and then started to join in with the music. I would say hum but it was more like whale sounds a few octaves lower. He next had to get the water running and then started to swear at the aircon unit - I had already noticed it didn't seem to be working. All the time he dashed around the small salon looking out the window and looking quite distracted. I thought I would try to bring some focus back to the matter in hand and started to tell him that I normally had no. 4 clippers on the back and sides and then not too short on top. He smiled knowingly and said “oh yes I know the number 4”. I wasn't sure if that meant he knew what I wanted or whether he could count to 4 in english. On reflection probably the latter.

 

Some 40 minutes later he was still snipping away. He had gone through a large plastic crate of equipment in the search of something sharp and eventually abandoned the clippers as they were completely blunt and kept snagging on my hair. I did wonder whether Caroline would be concerned where I was and at least send out a search party but sadly no rescue came. Eventually it seemed he had finished his master piece but then he took out the razor, doused it in dettol and then sterilised it further with his cigarette lighter. He seemed to get a thrill out of how sharp this blade was in comparison to his other tools and he spent another 5 minutes or so trimming me a bit more. I started to wonder whether in a hotel like this the guest has to say 'when'. I gave some approving noises and explained that I was hoping to get down to the beach at some point that day but this guy was not to be diverted from his mission. He next reached into his grubby crate and pulled out what I now know is a' thread'. Quite a few of his other implements tried to come out too but he fought them back into the crate. He then turned his attention to the hairs on my forehead and cheeks. I must admit that I have been blissfully unaware of these hairs so far in my life but as he started to work the thread and pull them out I started to form a special attachment to them. So much so that tears were welling up in my eyes - but then I realised it was the pain. I had to ask him to stop 3 times before he threw the thread back in the crate. He proudly showed me my no. 4 trim in a mirror. Probably the sharpest cut I have ever had. He asked me if I would like a shave. Although with 3 day's growth I could have done with one, but I said no thanks and got out of the chair before he could reach for a razor.

 

The payment was the next challenge, not least because I didn't have any cash on me. The board outside said 17 euros but I asked him how much in egyptian pounds. At this point he reached for his calculator and started pounding the keys. I'm not sure he knew how to use it because after a while he gave up and shrugged his shoulders. I promised to return with some cash later on. 

 

This afternoon we went for our second snorkelling trip (Holly's first). On seeing Caroline and remembering her first trip out on Sunday we were assigned not one but two guides.  But now Mrs K is a snorkelling expert.  She got a real kick out of doing the thumbs up underwater with our guide. However our swim was at a very leisurely pace along the reef but Caroline always appeared to be lagging behind. It seems that she discovered a way to swim backwards with flippers on. Our guide was kept busy.

 

Health treatments , Quad biking and sailing tomorrow!  And I need to venture back to the hairdresser with the cash.

 

Day 6-7

Forgive me friends, it has been a couple of days since my last confession blog.

Wednesday was supposed to be an active day with both sailing and quad bikes but on the morning in question, over a healthy breakfast, we decided we might be stretching ourselves a little and deferred the sailing till Friday – probably just as well. 

Sian, Anthony and I set off in a car to the local town (Surfaga), about 15 minutes away while Caroline & Holly went to the spa for some luxury treatments.  Not forcing Caroline to at least have a go at the quad bikes was the best decision I made all day.  We arrived at the Alibabar Safari Park which was in fact just a shop with a desk, a computer and a fan.  There were 4 quad bikes lined up outside looking like they were raring to go.  After a very friendly greeting, I was asked “Where are your scarves?”.  “Scarves?  We weren’t told anything about scarves”.  Apparently these were vital pieces of equipment that we needed but, just by chance, they happened to have a large cardboard box under the desk filled with scarves that we could purchase for just LE30 each – about £4.  I decided to go with the flow.  The guide fashioned our scarves around our heads so that we looked like we were about to star in one of those videos where kidnapped westerners proclaim the virtues of Islam.  With our sunglasses we were fully kitted out – that’s right, no helmets.  We underwent an intensive safety briefing which consisted of asking us if we had ridden quad bikes before.  For Sian (13) the answer was no, but this was greeted with “Oh, that’s OK”.  The rest of the briefing consisted of showing us where the throttle and brakes were.  Anthony and I noted the warnings on the bikes and we hit the 100% mark – fail that is.  We weren’t wearing helmets and two us were not 16 which apparently significantly increases your chance of dying.  The final piece of safety advice was “slow down on the corners” – right.  So off we set.  Two guides on the lead bike and us following behind in single file.  Our destination was the distant mountains which were in fact large rocks in the desert.

We started off really well, though Sian was a bit tentative at first understandably and was lagging behind the guides a little.  At one point I signalled to Anthony that he should overtake her and catch up with the lead bike.  Sadly Anthony’s control of his bike was not quite as I hoped and, in the act of overtaking Sian, he took her out from the side in a manoeuvre that was Schumacher would have been proud of. I was behind the two and saw the collision almost in slow motion.  Her bike went sideways and she carried on going forwards.  By the time I stopped and ran back she was on the ground having rolled on the hard dirt.  The bike was upside down quite close to her but fortunately had not rolled on top of her.  Fortunately she had resisted the temptation to hang on for dear life and managed to roll away from it but in the process had suffered quite badly grazed elbows and a sore backside.  Anthony meanwhile had careered wildly off the track and finally managed to stop his bike some meters away.  Thankfully no major damage was done.  Anthony was profusely sorry and Sian seemed to be OK, though a bit shaken.  The two guides, after checking that Sian was OK and pouring some water on her grazes, gave the bike a thorough look over and after a few minutes we were on our way again, though Sian decided to ride on the lead bike with one of the guides while the other guide rode her bike.

Of course now we were classified as dangerous tourist thrill seekers and the second guide kept Anthony and I at a low speed (especially on the corners) until we eventually reached our destination and stopped for a break.  We climbed by foot some way up the rock (I thanked God for the second time that Mrs K was not with us) and listened to some music on the guide’s mobile phone while enjoying the view across the desert.  The way down the rock was more treacherous than the way up but thankfully there were no slips and we made it back down to the bikes without incident.  On the way back however, Anthony was not done with taking out his fellow riders and at one point when the column of bikes had slowed to negotiate some heavy bumps, he rammed the guide’s bike in front and the guy nearly left his bike over his handle bars.  All things considered the two guides were quite good about it but did look at Anthony with a quizzical look and gestured the act of braking but Anthony could only shrug his shoulders.  After an attempt to straighten the impact bars on the back of the bike, we set off again, this time with Sian re-mounting her bike and we managed to get home safely, though with Anthony taking special care to keep a safe distance this time.     

On the way back to base however there was one more incident. As we crossed some of the most desolate landscape I have ever seen, we met up with a police landrover. Why they were patrolling out here God only knows. For some reason we had to stop and our lead guide approached the police car. There was a hint of a handshake with the senior policeman which could have been a transfer of a small piece of rolled up paper but I couldn't be sure. The questioning went on for some time. The policeman looked very distinguished - he could have been in a Bond movie - and I could imagine him living in a luxurious mansion despite the fact that he probably doesn't earn very much. I wondered what Sian would answer if they asked her age.  Eventually we got the nod and with a wave we were on our way again. Our guides offered no explanation and I sought none.

When we back at the hotel I was expecting an ear bashing from Mrs K, albeit a lighter verson compared to what I would have got had she been there at the scene. However she seemed to have had a bad reaction to the hot stone treatment and wasn't quite herself.  More of that later.

On Thursday we arranged a day trip to Luxor which meant a 3½ hour drive each way. Saeed our driver picked us up at 6am and we set off in a people carrier with the aircon set at 17C.
We had arrived at the hotel at night so this was our first proper look at the surrounding area. The desolate landscape was almost breathtaking and it was hard to understand how anyone would decide to build a holiday destination in such a place.

For such a journey as this we needed a driver. Tourists are not allowed to hire cars to drive any distances unaccompanied. Our driver had a permit and he had to show it at several checkpoints along the way. We must have gone through over 20 checkpoints on the way to Luxor, most of which were manned by dozens of soldiers and customs officials and many of which had towers which looked like giant bird boxes on stilts with guns pointing out of narrow slits. Some of the checkpoints consisted of a single lane slalom course between metal railings which Saeed expertly negotiated almost without slowing down.

I wouldn't say Saeed was a mad driver - all things are relative. But he did insist on taking left hand bends on the left hand kerb (that's the wrong side of the road) and often without being able to see what was coming the other way. He was always tail-gating trucks and coaches in an effort to get past them, sometimes to within just a few feet at speeds of 100km/hr. I didn't mind so much on the highway through the desert but as we approached Luxor and with so many other people and animals on the road, seemingly oblivious to the traffic, I was much more uncomfortable. He was also continuously flashing, beeping and gesturing to oncoming traffic. When I asked him about it he told me that he was asking about 'radar' (police cameras) - regular users of the road had a code to warn others of approaching cameras and this explained why Saeed had inexplicably slowed down on many occasions.

When we arrived in Luxor we picked up our guide, Abdul.  He was quite a character.  A veteran of famous archaeological digs in he north and a student of hieroglyphics. He had spent 6 years at various museums in Europe and cooperated with a professor in Liverpool to translate a particular story of a war campaign. Having established his credentials however he swiftly moved on to the main business of the day which was to show us round the sights of the Karnak temple and the Valley of the Kings, flatter Caroline at every opportunity and to get round to his mates' shops - not necessarily in that order or importance. The flattery included an offer of camels for Caroline - I have now got a bit tired of that one.  

As we walked through the Karnak temple on a typically searingly hot day, Mrs K had another funny turn and almsot fainted. Luckily Abdul was quite used to this and started to work his magic. She was soon flat on her back on the dusty ground with her legs in the air having cold water massaged in her face and hair. After a few minutes she was on her feet, though a little dishevelled and Abdul took her by the arm in search of a fully leaded Coke. Over drinks Abdul negotiated further - it turned out that cold feet would add to the price - built in aircon!

Our stay at the temple was slightly curtailed but Abdul still found the opportunity for the first sale of the day - bracelets for the kids with their names written in hieroglyphics.

From there we visited a gallery where they showed how papyrus was made and where we were persuaded to part with cash in exchange for some pieces of art. When you visit, please ask Mrs K if you can see them because she promised me that they would not stay in the loft with all the other stuff we have brought back from other places in the world.

Wherever we went everyone seemed to know Abdul and we started to think that his claims of being the next President might not be so far fetched after all. Then we went for lunch to a very nice restaurant where again Abdul was greeted as a long lost friend.  We were the only diners but we were treated to some proper Egyptian food and as I write the next day we have had no ill effects.

As the day warmed up we visited the Valley of the Kings which has dozens of royal tombs. The Pharoahs got wary of using pyramids as they were so easily plundered so they started to use tombs, some of which were very deep and some very well hidden (Tutankamen's was not discovered until 1922). I don't think I have ever felt as hot. The car dashboard told us it was 54C in the sun as it felt like it. We visited 2 tombs, one of which was 20m underground, and that was enough.

We next visited an alabaster factory where the workers sat outside in the shade and reminded me somehow of a scene from 'it Ain't Half Hot Mum' if you can remember that far back. Mrs K fell in love with a particular vase of course and together with small items for the kids we underwent yet another negotiation process before subjecting the Visa card to another bashing. What took me by surprise was the cheek of the salesman in asking directly for a tip and when we left the shop, the workers outside sprang to life, thrusting stones into our hands and asking for cash. I left there feeling fleeced and getting a bit tired of Abdul's mates.

Next on the agenda was a relaxing boat trip on the Nile (the boat it passed Mrs K's inspection) and Abdul presented Holly with a Shisha pipe which she said she had wanted. I don't know how he had arranged it - it was clear that Abdul had friends everywhere. When it came to part company with Abdul and after he had gone into the market to buy coals for Hollys pipe, I gave him something for the day, though I suspect he had already done quite well on commission.

We had the daunting prospect of a wild and bumpy 3 hour drive back but it passed almost without incident save for my carsickness and a stop halfway for a toilet break. While waiting in the car for the driver to come back from his fag, Mrs K decided that we should give the leftovers of our breakfast boxes to the Bedouin children that were 'collecting' nearby. Interestingly in each box the hotel had given us each a whole green pepper for breakfast but none of us had got that hungry for it. . We collected up the peppers and various items of fruit and the odd leftover roll in a Sheraton bag and handed over to a young girl who emptied it into a large pouch on the side of her donkey.  At that point we realised that not only had Mrs K donated the rest of our breakfasts but the driver's too. Running after the donkey seemed out of the question so she had to confess to him on his return. Fortunately he saw the funny side of it.

We arrived back at the hotel at 8.30pm and after wishing Saeed well with the birth of his son (due any day) we retired to our rooms, me feeling quite queasy and suffering a migraine, but having had a good day.

Day 8

Things have slowed down quite a bit here.  We have been busy reading, sunbathing, swimming and drinking cocktails.  Our main exercise has been trying to decide what to eat - apart from Holly who jumped a foot in the air the other evening when a lizard made a move for her.  Sian and I went for a sail but it wasn’t too successful with a wind speed of only 3 knots but today we tried windsurfing and managed to get across the bay (and back) during our first session.

Tomorrow is our last day so I am probably tempting fate to say that nothing of note will happen from now on but here are some pictures of our holiday.

www.photos.maple3.co.uk

Thanks for reading

Day 10

As I suspected, there was more.

 

On our last evening we were turned away from the posh al a carte restaurant in the hotel for what was to be our final fling of the holiday. Caroline was looking fabulous in her new long black dress and the girls were looking beautiful but the problem was the boys shorts!  I thought this was a picky given the amount we had spent over the last 10 days. I had a pair of long trousers in the room but Anthony hadn't brought any.  Caroline was disappointed ao we flirted with the idea of getting anthony to wear a pair of Caroline's slacks - that would have been worth a photo. Instead we headed off to the usual buffet restaurant with other 90% of the hotel guests where our waiter organized our seating around the table so that Mrs K and I were next to each other. I'm not sure Mrs K was that bothered and Holly was very put out that she was told to move, especially by the waiter that she said had been a little too attentive with his hands around the table. I wondered how many camels Holly would fetch or perhaps whether the threat of a lawsuit could reduce the bill a little.

Our driver to the airport was Saeed again but this time his driving was very orderly and he repeated his invitation for us to go to his house for dinner and to meet his family. No sign of the baby yet which is still imminent.

Our flight back was fine.  Our aisle seats on Easyjet were secured via a carefully orchestrated family plan to stay near the transfer bus steps and a sprint for the rear steps of the plane. This is what made Britain great. We landed at midnight last night second time lucky after an aborted attempt just above the runway the first time. We were told by the stewardess that this was normal procedure but the pilot later told us that he pulled up because there was another plane on the runway. Not that normal I hope.

Hit the pillow just before 3 after a marathon trek from the Easyjet arrival gate, a wait for the car park bus  and various enforced stops for 'decent' coffee, loos and groceries despite my protestations that I had to get up at 6 for work this morning. I wondered if I would wake up but having had my phone switched off for the duration of the holiday two texts arrived at 5am this morning. Thanks Fred.

Back to the grind