Introduction

Writing this on the Psion instead of by hand has been a different sort of experience. I've been trying against natural tendency to write just as if I'd been keeping a journal and not go too toward creating a document for distribution. For this "publication version" I did a bit of editing. I tried not to remove any incidents, or change anything, just cut personal commentary that's likely not too interesting a well as revealing a bit more than I'd like at the moment of my sad and predictable mental processes.

Well first shot at taking notes on this bloody PDA. Next step in Dads plan to turn me into him. Katie arrived around 4:00. Usual waiting, fiddling about. Left for the airport a bit after 9:00. Caught the flight nothing too eventful, slept through most of it. Katie didn't feel too well. Caught the connection in Frankfort without other incident now en route to Cairo. Gonna be an interesting trip. Arrived without trouble. Getting the vista was indeed simple and somewhat comical. Each of the row of money change people sells them. The price is posted in US dollars (15). And each guy, if free, tries to coax you off the end of the guy overs line. The result was two postage stamp type things which the passport control guy licks, sticks on a free page, and stamps. The large tattoo spelling out sucker on my forehead attracted an 'official' tourist agent who talked us into taking a minibus to the hotel L35, 5 more than the high end of the guides taxi price but what the hell. For our money we got to see the guy climbing up on the baggage carousel to pull free Katie's bag the strap of which had gotten wedged. Driver randomly commented while walking to the car that I had an Arab face, not quite sure how to take that. I responded Spanish he nodded and replied probably your great grandmother. Not quite sure how to take that. Got into the van. Three guys in the front, driver, the guy who'd recruited us and someone else. Repressed brief vision of being taken off and murdered in the desert, but the others were just being dropped off on their way home.

Got to the hotel, checked in. No Ritz certainly but I suppose I know people who live in worse looking apartments. One particularly disturbing note a deceased, not so small, small friend waiting on the bathroom floor. The toilet tank cover is wood, strange, but practical since I've needed to open it and fiddle with the float which seems to get wedged in the upright position. Headed out, took a walk. Its an interesting area around us, no more third world really than say Naples (though some would argue that's not saying much). There are though the little stands selling odd electrical bits like in China. A lot of juice bars, most of which have bags of mouldering oranges hanging out front. Dammed if I'd drink anything from there but it actually has a sort of pleasant musky sweet odor. A lot of police with AK47s about. Prof. Morris' claim was they weren't loaded but he was here in the 80's and the statement has the ring of something one would say to reassure the westerners. Mind you I wouldn't trust them with loaded automatics in a crowd, most looked well under twenty. Back to the hotel where Katie was charged an outrageous amount for a six min call to her mom. Brief cold shower, stared at the street a bit and to bed. Heard good couple donkey drawn vehicles during the night.

I've noted this morning that there appears to be a family living on the roof of the building across from us, bunch of kids running around. It's over cast and not too hot. Katie up at 8 headed to breakfast two frankfurter roll sort of things with butter (didn't touch it) and apple jam as well as tea. Went to Ramses station and as the guide suggested would be 'by the time you read this' Ramses had departed. (Actually not, saw him later, phone numbers that had changed and renovations/construction going on years after the proposed completion date have been the theme of the trip).  Got our tickets to Luxor relatively easily, first class seats 48 L roughly $15 (student fair) I was somewhat astonished at him accepting my Rutgers ID. I suppose it does say student (no it doesn't as I later discovered). Waited for 15 to 20 odd min for the bus reputed to go to Kahn al Kalili (we thought we knew the number in arabic) but lost patience and took a cab. Was cool, a proper cab driver who clearly spoke no English (but looked a bit like uncle Tony) A family of natives got out of it in front of the bus depot and we got in. We said the name he repeated it back properly and off we went. Arrived, he pointed to an underpass, told off a woman who was sticking her hand in to beg, handed him the 5 L the guide said it should cost plus 2 for looking like uncle Tony and off we went. (The only reasonable priced (in local rather than our terms) taxi ride we had in Egypt). Bazar was huge with touristy and native bits selling everything from chunks of beef to small electronics. Got couple pictures but just couldn't capture what it was like with anything still. People all over the place cars ploughing through the crowded narrow streets. Filthy in some spots, though on the whole not too bad. All motion, dogs sniffing at stuff, kittens wandering around, horses, horns honking, with the relatively occasional tourist bobbing in the sea. Once again I wished I had the cast iron stomach to try the fresh juice or the peaches. Wandered back and forth getting totally lost. The area is with mosques like Naples is with churches: one every block and most in poor repair or under reconstruction. The highlight was metalworkers. A proper blacksmith splitting a hot half cylinder into two quarter cylinders, for what I don't know. Guys working huge copper pots over giant stakes set in the ground really big swage block. Nick'd enjoy it. Got bit tired of wandering and so wandered quite a bit more to get our bearings. Found our way to a place in the guide, Egyptian Pancake house where we got these sort of doughy pizzaish things one filled with a relatively strong goat cheese and olives, one sugar and butter. Were actually pretty good though all through yesterday just the recollection of the goat cheese made me a bit queasy. Katie felt a bit sick so I finished it off and felt a bit sick myself by the time it was done. Then we walked down to the Citadel. Much fewer tourists on the walk, even more crowded, more varied stuff, fruit, fish, meat, little peaches or apricots, some neat architectural stuff as well. So walked till we hit the mosque in front. Walked round to left which was in fact the exit. Ignored taxi drivers telling us it was the exit. Backtracked all the way round, got in, walked around went into the mosque which was pretty but more or less a big room. Was a bit late so passed on the police and military museums as far as I know they weren't supposed to have any armor so hardly matters. Walked around, had an outrageously overpriced soda which was worth every penny in the heat. Made our way out encountering mandatory taxi drivers on way, started at 20 Katie laughed and price was revised to 10. Argued a while Katie trying to play hardball that it was supposed to be 5, tried next guy along who also insisted it was 10 because traffic was heavy and that we were dealing with a good Muslim who would not cheat us. Katie was ready to set off down the road but asked me and I caved, we seem to have an odd ability to go soft whenever the other one wants to be firm. Which may be for the best or we'd never get anywhere. So we headed back, though strangely the second driver passed us back off to the first. Noted that the cop standing in front of our hotel was still carrying two AK47s as he had been that morning and still couldn't imagine why. Were stopped in the hotel with offer of a special dinner that had something to do with a visiting tour group which I didn't quite catch. Their leftovers perhaps. Didn't feel at all like eating but Katie did so took an hours nap and did that. Lentil soup (though tasted more like yellow split pea to me) and vegetables with rice to start were very good so was the custard we finished with. Main course dry chicken fillet with fries and string beans. Not so hot, have to confess didn't feel very hungry, left some bread behind and didn't touch the salad which I wasn't sure I could trust. 54L total plus tip. After took a walk down along the Nile past all the really posh places also past a truckload of black uniform cops with vests that clearly meant business. Instead of AK47 these had rather long barreled pump shotguns with pistol grip forends bit more practical for hitting the terrorist and not the tourist inside the building behind them, maybe. It's a nice walk with banyan trees and the river even if you have to tell countless people you don't want a felucca ride. Headed back. Wish I could have taken a picture of this. Two cops, young like most of them 18 tops one black uniform one white each with their AK47s over their shoulders walking down the street arm in arm holding hands. Not unusual of course, like Greece see a lot of guys doing that, not as afraid of physical contact as us (among men that is, women another story) but the uniforms and guns made that pair a site.

Breakfast and headed out to change money. Briefly disconcerted to find what seemed a drain in bathroom floor was our own private open sewer, a flood of soap suds had oozed out of it during the night. Wandered a bit but no luck so went to place in the Nile Hilton. Walking along, a guy started the Hi, where you from thing. He as well felt it necessary to tell me I looked Egyptian (so many people have told me this, both those trying to sell me something and those just making conversation, that I'm sure it's a standard line given to anyone that's not blond). Talked a bit he was saying he worked for some ministry and didn't sell anything so we didn't have to worry. Believe he said his name was Abdul. Talked as we crossed the street parted ways and he said maybe we'd meet again, he gets feelings about these things. So Katie changed money (we were introduced at the bank to the phenomenon of metal detectors which you walk through, set off and which are ignored. They are either there purely for effect or purely used on natives) After, back to the bus stop. We ran into the guy again. This time couldn't get out of admitting we were going to the pyramids which I specifically had avoided before and he said he'd help us get there. Of course first instinct is to flee as quickly as possible but especially with Katie there it was difficult to do without being openly insulting and we were trying to do exactly what he was offering to help with so we got on a bus for Giza. 25p for the bus ride a lot cheaper than a cab. Guide books always seem to overlook details like this but I stress about them: you get on in the back and pay the guy who is either sitting by the door or patrolling the aisle depending on how energetic he is. The guy offered to pay which was weird and put me on my guard, though of course we didn't accept. So we talked, he asked me the inevitable (though why it should be I don't know) rather prying question of why I didn't smile enough which was rather strange trying to answer "because the world is so unfaithful, I go in black" hardly seems an answer to impose on an unsuspecting foreigner, (its not even all that accurate).   Maybe constitutionally morbid should have been my answer but he wouldn't have gotten that either. He was also talking about his sister in law in Chicago (everyone in Egypt has at least a cousin somewhere in the states it seems) at Giza square he said we needed to catch another bus to the Pyramids 333 our guide had said 3. I thought he was staying in Giza square. When he indicated that a moving bus was our target, ran after and hopped on I once again got a little nervous. But Katie ran after and I followed so we were off again. Of course after the panic of leaping for it, the bus stopped a few yards further on. He bought a paper and was reading it, which for some reason seemed to me evidence against him running a scam. But trusting people is not my strong point, I don't even trust myself when I can help it. Then he started mentioning the virtues of getting to the pyramids on horse or camel rather than paying the entry fee to the plateau which got me nervous again. Rather firmly said no to that, maybe too firmly for politeness sake but dammed if my feet will leave the ground in Egypt especially for something shady sounding. Ditto to the vaguely mentioned possibility of visiting a Bedouin village (he had said he was Bedouin) I admit I was pretty sure that at best we were about to be introduced to his cousin in the camel rental business. I however was wrong and Katie who thought otherwise was right. He told us to get off at a spot and said bye. I even turned and watched and he indeed did not get off the bus, I'm paranoid what can I say. So I felt bad that I hadn't trusted in his being purely good natured and wished I'd at least given him contact info for home. But didn't have too long to ponder this before jumping into the matter at hand.

We could see the pyramids but we weren't recognizably where the book claimed we'd be and there were a lot of houses between us and them. So,  we side stepped a couple people offering camel rides and headed through a alley toward the mountain of stone apparently straight ahead, and stepped straight into serious third world. Among other unique experiences I now understand DDT. I would cheerfully have several blocks around where we walked drenched with it at my own expense. The longer it lasts the better, and any birds would have to look out for their own eggs. The streets were filthy, swarms of flies rose off piles of dung, trash was everywhere. Katie claims to have seen a woman checking a child's head for lice, I missed that one. Of course there were no real streets, just alleys between houses. Two little kids appeared one maybe 10 one maybe 7 and said the way we were planning to go was closed (a popular line in Egypt, too popular for one to not get suspicious, but by a certain point you start not really caring). Being used to Italy I trust small, poor, innocent looking children not half as far as I can throw them on a good day, but again by that point didn't really care. So with one hand on wallet and one on bag followed them and they did indeed lead us after just half a minute and a couple turns out next to the Sphinx, and helpfully stated Sphinx in case there was any confusion. The idea is insane people living in filth like that and watching the hordes of tourists coming through literally outside their widow. They asked for money I gave them each 25p, they seemed happy and trotted off. I briefly tried to imagine what it would be like growing up where something to do on a random afternoon is go cruising for lost tourists but as often happens my imagination failed me. They have been the only guides in Egypt that haven't argued with me that what I gave them was not enough, should have given them more, but generous thoughts (maybe 66 cents rather than 15 what a big spender) aren't worth a whole hell of a lot after the fact.

So first hit guard check point and then circled around to ticket booth. Strange that once inside it never occurred to me to look back at the houses we'd came from, not actually strange of course but it would have been nice to be able to say I'd spared a second thought at the time. So it goes. So there we were started our approach to the Sphinx and almost immediately encountered the classical little old man in robe, turban and thick black framed glasses that seemed to be held together across the bridge by putty of some sort. I'm trying to remember where he started off. Think it was with suggesting a location to take a picture of the Sphinx then taking a picture of him and Katie. We then heard for the first time a question that has become quite familiar. (though somewhat better enunciated by him than by some later questioners.) "you married?" I'm glad we didn't do the wedding ring thing the guide suggested. Having started out we would have been committed to the farce and I at least would have felt a total git, lying to this succession of people about my marital status. We replied in the negative. "Friends. But you get married?", or words to that effect he replied, trying perhaps to make the best of a bad situation. Something on the theme of it being God's will followed. Somewhere around there he handed each of us a rather crude scarab and indicating we should wear it around our neck had us lay our hands with the scarabs together with his on top. He muttered something over several times "good marriage, long marriage and the like adding something about a big ceremony and a boy and a girl, it was all something of a bizarre blur, not entirely sure now why we went along with it. I certainly never had marriage blessings laid on me before, something of a ...ah ...unique experience. He then quite low keyly asked for money. "Good money. British money" in fact. For some reason under the impression we were British he threw in a "England forever". I gave him $3 US and that seemed to do just as well. The paradox of Egypt in a way, you couldn't give me that scarab under normal circumstances but of course it wasn't the scarab I payed for. I sort of wonder, my history sucks but guy was old enough that he must remember British rule. What did he do as a young man? Play different games with different tourists? How long has he been saying "England forever"? Since there still was a bit of empire left? So we parted ways with the gentleman and walked around the Sphinx. Giant granite masonry, making incomprehensible to me structures around it. Quite impressive. Not as big as photos make it seem but very there. Solid, its right in front of you after all, but less real in some way than the infinite photos I've seen of it which even now, a couple hours later, I remember much better than the thing itself. Its strange I don't know if the bottom is just much better preserved from being covered or restored. Can't imagine why it would be restored like that.

Started down the line of the queens pyramids which provided an experience in the discomfort and excitement of being a tourist who has no idea what is going on. We approached the tomb, not sure if we had to pay. There was an old guy gesturing to us and a vaguely official looking guy in a blue shirt sitting on the pyramid who said, I presume to reassure us, that the guy was the watch man or something to that effect, so we followed him and he roused a more official looking guy (he had a cap as well as a blue shirt) sitting inside the pyramid so this guy told us to follow him into the pyramid saying something about official no baksheesh. Descended a bit awkwardly. Got in there, he asked the mandated question about our marital status, supplying the alternate "friend" himself, said a few words, suggested Katie have her picture taken lying in the mummy case shaped depression in the floor which she refused and led us back up saying something again about not giving anyone baksheesh but also I'd almost swear saying it was nothing extra to go around with the old guy but seeing the mummy was 30L. I could be wrong, it might indeed have been a hallucination but it was in my head through all that followed. He also unnecessarily and I suspect inaccurately informed us the old gentleman was 100, local color for the tourists I guess. So we followed the old guy and he talked quite a bit, though his English was more or less incomprehensible and he threw in clearly non English words at random. He said canali half a dozen times before I realized he was talking about the causeway that went to the Nile (at least that's what I think he was talking about). The only fact I can say I learned was that the pink granite came from Luxor. We were then joined by a younger guy who spoke more English but made less sense who informed us the grated deep shafts were sacred entrances to Cheops pyramids and repeated several times that all the gold was in the Egyptian museum. I asked hadn't all these tombs been looted in antiquity. This didn't faze him at all, he promptly replied that yes indeed the pyramids were tombs for the Pharos. So somehow it was determined we would go see the mummy cases (no mummy thanks be to God) climbed down through relatively small hole in the wall of one of the further pyramids went inside and across climbing over some bottom halves of stone sarcophagi, trying not to step inside since it seemed bit too disrespectful. Old guy looked down on us through one of the shafts and said "bye bye" for reasons best known to himself. Katie did not seem happy. Then down another level where there were some more sarcophagi bottoms. The queens doctor or something or other according to him. He borrowed my flashlight to point out some feature about which he had a non fact to impart. As we emerged, saw a bat flit across and hoped to take a shot of it but it was gone fast and didn't reappear. Also on the way out a steel grate across a normal door I hadn't noticed was pointed out with the story that the tomb would open in August but this was a secret visit. Fingers were raised to lips. As we emerged we were introduce to a new character, reputed to be the watchman, and asked to provide him with something in deference to the polite fiction (at least my theory, the guide said you could go into some of the queens pyramids) that he was supposed to have kept us out. Having never seen the gentleman before I had no compunction about giving him 25p and shrugging at his protestation that it was "little money" Our guide on the other hand wanted $20 US split between himself and the distinguished centegenarian for this "secret", (finger to lips again), tour. Gave him 50L with some misgivings because I didn't have anything smaller. He wanted another 10 I said no, he reiterated the secrecy of the tour and to please tell no one. I wasn't sure whether to laugh or be pissed at the pretense so did a bit of both. As we walked out he offered to give me back the money if I wasn't satisfied I said it was fine, and for some strange reason we shook hands (I seem to have done a hell of alot of things in Egypt I can't recall my precise motivation for.) Security guy on camel came by and shouted "no guide no baksheesh" and sort of shook his fist at the dude, who in turn made innocent gestures and asked us to go out alone. As we walked off he reappeared with the bill in hand asking for change to pay off the security guard, I believe we genuinely didn't have more than 40L in change which we had a hard time convincing him of. In the end he took the 50 back and didn't press his luck by asking for extra for the guard. He did however ask if he could have my flashlight as a 'souvenir' but realized no luck and said "no, ok" in a tone of voice that to me stated nothing ventured nothing gained. Its an interesting thing, clearly something strange was going on but what it was beyond an effort to get some money and who was involved I really can't imagine. They're not cheating you really unless your trying to cheat, and believe your getting away with something. You don't have to give them anything you don't want to, you just need to say no. Certainly between getting to play Indiana Jones in tomb raiding and dealings with native guides, its entertainment you couldn't get for 15 bucks in NYC. Strange in another sense, though a day later I can say it was a good experience, I was pretty pissed in general by the end of the day of every five minutes being told I looked Egyptian (except "taller hair" as one person informed me), asked if I wanted a camel ride, where I was from, if this woman was my wife. In ways it was a good experience, which you'd lose in a more regulated environment but regulation at least means you know where you stand, maybe it is just laziness, not wanting to have to fight and negotiate for where you stand with things but there were moments when I definitely wished the spot was a bit more Disneyfied. Especially on discovering the obscurely but hope inspiringly named "resthouse" on the map was a police station with a toilet in front. Wouldn't have minded being hassled by camel men if there had been a cafe. Anywho, saw the boat, rather impressive that its that well preserved. I at least have no doubt the canvas overshoes you need to put on are to protect their floor not the boat. Rested up a bit, suffered the dissapointment of the resthouse and Cheops pyramid being inexplicably closed for the next 15 minutes, and set off for the next which was closed as well. On to the next. On our way there saw a stranger sight still. The rusting, seemingly abandoned, framework of the planned new visitors center which Katie's guide from 1994 talks about being done for 1997 and heralding everything going legitish on the plateau. Mine, the writing for which seems to have been done in 1997 makes no mention of it. Dammed if I know why, but the rusty skeleton of what was supposed to be an Imax dome rising up in the desert was more surreal than the pyramids themselves. When I get back I have to try and find out why it wasn't completed. Seems sure to be a money maker. I suppose that's true poverty when you have something you know you should do, which can't really help but be successful but can't get the capital to make it fly. So to the third which we got into after extensive hassle about cameras. You need to pay to bring the camera in, not to take pictures but there isn't any place to check them and the guard who examines your bag and ticket only seems to take them if he's in a good mood. More sloppiness. It was a stone room, nothing all that exciting. After all that, I have to admit ashamedly even I had no strong interest in going into the other two. We did however see a dust storm, just like the movies all brown tornadoie, doubt my pictures of it came out. I now properly appreciate the meaning of the word dusty. I have never been so coated in grime, my shoes grey, my face at least half a shade darker with it. And Katie was wearing white, oy veh.

Went to the posh hotel nearby and had something to eat and a lot to drink. Took my life in my hands and had a fruit plate, couldn't stand the idea of anything solider. Mostly peeled stuff but not all. Drank a tremendous amount of water, don't think I've ever had water taste so good. Bit posh for likes of us, waiters in silly prince of Persia type vests, service wasn't so hot in any case. Started back to find the bus stop. Saw a stop but not quite sure if it was right. Walked, hit a papyrus joint where Katie bought couple blank sheets and we got directed to the next stop. There we waited a bit then decided to push on afoot. Noted that (obviously I suppose) most of the city is not so well endowed with AK47 bearing teens as the central portion. Going through non touristy areas saw only very occasional police standing in a sort of olive drab lemonade stand arrangements with the police logo. Most with just sidearms, white uniform, they seemed a bit older as well. Somewhere along the line saw the bus # we wanted pass by and we planted at the next stop. Minibuses slowed and shouted their destination but none for Tahir (at least none that said it) so waited and waited finally gave up and (this was my plan) got on the first bus that came along to at least take it to Giza sq. and work it from there. We got lucky though. I kept taking compass bearings meaning to hop at Giza sq or when we first turned off the strait east course we wanted and we never really went the wrong way. As we turned one corner Katie wanted to get off . For once however being slow paid off, I delayed and it actually went all the way to Tahir. They say that idiots are the especially beloved of God. So once back priced a trip to the monasteries. Two tour places hadn't heard of it, 1 had and could do a driver for the day for 95 US a head. Later also tried both YMCA and Coptic organization trying to find a tour, no joy. They're phone numbers both don't work, tried and failed to find both buildings. See what works out.

So today headed to Egyptian museum home to hordes o guards. Standard AK47 guards, black and white uniform. black uniform AK47 plus bullet proof vest and green military helmet variety (didn't care for the state some of their vests seemed to be in) also a lot of white uniforms with what looked to me like HKs of some sort with two clips taped together. Did bag scan and metal detector, Here they actually at least feeling your pockets if you set it off. Had to check pocket knives and unticketed cameras. The collection itself rather impressive. Amazing the amount especially considering how much has been carted off or destroyed. A lot of it quite beautiful, finely carved. Amazing also how open a lot of it was, several cedar coffin cases you just walked between which were predictably grimy and even had a couple peoples names in them. Reputed to close at 12 on Fridays but it clearly didn't. Had pair of statues mounted on a somewhat wacky steel armature. and a pasted together poster about the restoration that clearly showed how proud they were to be with it and have such a modern display rather than having reconstructed it entirely in the more traditional manner. Was interesting looking. But I suspect mounting artifacts on industrial gothic looking skeletons will be more of a fad in the long run than reconstructing large chunks of them. Sort of neat contrast though. Took photos, tried hard to get a good shot of a tourist craning their neck to get face to face with king Tut not sure how well any came out. Don't get a feel for how amazing the golden shrines are from photos. The effect of them is quite strange. Did a little sketching, not much and pretty much spent the rest of the day unsuccessfully chasing the keepers of the red sea monasteries. For the hell of it followed one of the "hi, where you from, you look Egyptian, I love Americans" guys (an engineer mind you nothing to sell) to his office which looked strangely like a perfume shop so signed the guest book but departed quickly declining perfumes for our respective mothers, aphrodisiacs, etc, etc. Its not like they're cheating you (it can hardly even be called lying when it is so transparent) unless you're a total idiot it's clear they're leading you to a shop (they all use the exact same lines) and its not like they're at all offensive or are doing a hard sell bit. I wonder why its particularly people with perfume shops.

    So got to the train station without incident and plunked ourselves against the wall. Train pulled in 9:30 and the little old man who seemed to work the platform motioned us up. A small family of roaches had found a resting place behind Katie and were swarming about as their cover departed. Even I found it on the gross side. Dude stamped a bit then gave up and led us to the train. So here we are quarter to four on the train I haven't really slept. We're in front of the car door which makes a horrible squeak when its opened, which it is continually. Ah well. Some quite pretty scenery in the early AM. Made it to Luxor got out and immediately beset by hordes of people offering hotels and horse carriages. Thought the horses looked in better shape than some in Cairo. So we wandered up the line of boats looking for ours. No dice. Katie's bag was getting heavy and she was getting pissed, wasn't unusually cheery myself. Talk turned to burning down the travel agents when back in NYC. So gave up and got a taxi who in turn hadn't heard of the place. He stopped to talk to another, then wanted us to stop and ask at Thomas Cook but we hit someone who knew the place. They got in the cab with the driver and we set off again. Down to end where there was a ship called the Admiral that both the dude and a dock worker insisted was it. Gave the guy something don't recall what at this point, he argued it wasn't enough gave him 3 more and then the second guy asked for 5. A cop pulled up behind so he climbed back into the car and I thought he was going to take off but stuck around long enough to get the 1L offered. The dock guy was already off with Katie's bag. We got to the boat interrogated and interrogated by the guy at door who said to see the receptionist which we did who said they had 10 doubles for our tour agency but no names so we should wait in the bar which we are, expecting the tour agent.

So we are indeed set in a room, all that jazz shall see how that goes, couple hours sitting on deck already too much for me. Have grown infinitely bored with listening to Americans talk about money and buying souvenirs I hope I'm not that boring and vapid when I'm old. For that matter I hope I'm not that boring and vapid now, if I am someone please shoot me. In any case this is going to be a whole other experience. Hope our guide is half human, nothing as depressing as a lousy guide. So we ate lunch which was our major accomplishment for the day, nobody young that I could notice. Peoples manners at the buffet offending Katie. Food was ok not spectacular. Maybe I'd get fat on an extended cruise like this but I wouldn't enjoy doing it as much as I should. Did a bit of laundry. Quite strange writing this facing mirror on wall that reflects the windows view of the Nile, water hyacinth floating past, Katie dozed off on the bed. A sort of quite strange twist on an image of the Lady of Shallot.

So headed out and saw the two halves of the temple complex on the east bank. The idea of a row of sphinx's below the city is strange, buried former glories beneath fragmented semi modernism. The ruins themselves were cool but a bit unreal sort of Disneyesque. My first thought on seeing them while trying to find the boat was wondering if they were part of a tourist trap of some sort. I'd sort of dozed off while writing that it had taken two lines to say originally, I was saying it looked like a park ornament or something when viewed obliquely from a distance. Which perhaps isn't so far from truth so many bits seem to be reerected with a lot of reconstruction or rebuilt by so and so at such and such a point. At the sites had guys in varying shades of khaki and OD pants and jackets with little name tags that said tourist police, had what I think were the same small HK's slung under the jacket on the right side and a side arm on the left. Cops seem to be big on the holsters without bottoms, must be a technical term for that.

A wake up knock..That threw me for a bit at 4:30 AM. Breakfast, bus for valley of the kings got three tomb ticket and 3 camera tickets 5 L each (though they never asked me for a camera ticket at any of the tombs) little pastel trams with fake stacks on front drive you from gate to entrance. Bit Disney. I take that back Disney means a carefully engineered experience which this clearly was not. If it was Disney they'd be done up in khaki like little jeeps with a rifle bearing guard on the roof. Once again the people who mean business have the HKs either slung under jacket or more sensibly just sitting on the rock next to them, too hot for a jacket. Did three tombs can't recall which and don't suppose it matters much. The reputed highest and deepest was cool, the spot it was in was interesting. The third was cool because you had a really good feel for the fact that it is carved from living stone. One chamber with a lot of bones in it, guy there said they were camel and donkey. And I think said why they were there but couldn't understand him. Then to Hapshetsuts temple, neat from a distance but not too much close up, doing a lot of restoration it seems. Laying stone surface on walkway up to next level. Squaring big blocks off to one side, a lot of random pieces laid out as well. So here we had a big hoopla, the big dude who I think is French (works for Airbus I believe from overheard conversation, what a massively unromantic name for a plane company) seemed to be pissed at the guide in valley of kings about being rushed (which we were but everyone just met back a half hour later than supposed to). Had some kind of argument with the guide. It seems from varying scraps of conversation they were arguing and he put a hand on her shoulder or tapped her as a gesture in the course of the argument. She apparently freaked and shouted something about him touching her in Arabic and bunch of guys that were running the souvenir stands mobbed him. Not sure what happened but later, as we were back on the bus they were outside arguing with a cop. Someone repeated later something about how touching a woman was punishable by 6 months in prison. Obviously nothing came of it but some bad feelings. Was just weird. Cultural thing I suppose. Though he certainly should have tread lighter in someone else's country and apologized instead of holding to he didn't do anything and she was just pissed because they were complaining about the tour. On the other hand you'd think guides would be given some kind of cultural training about what the people they work with consider acceptable. But he seemed a snotty frog so he's clearly in the wrong. Almost apologized to her myself but she was with a bunch of other staff undoubtably giving a blow by blow so I felt funny, ah well.

Lunch, now just sitting about trying to do a little watercolor strange thing cruises can see why people gain weight just sit about, eat and drink. The whole situation is a little strange. Have passed quite a few kids swimming in the Nile ick. I suppose I've gone swimming in a few not so lovely spots but at least its always been saltwater. Walked up with Katie to the guide and she did a little apology. Just passed a lock and introduced to yet another genuinely new experience, having a man with a machine gun try and bum a smoke off me, guards at the lock. So a lot more sitting around, listening to inane "adult" conversations, suppose my conversations wouldn't be unusually more interesting to listen in on (yes they would purely on the basis of having no shady financial deals to boast of). Well still here on deck. Idleness has inevitably lead me to a "funny " mood can't concentrate on watercolors or on Don Quixote. New sketch book has received its first skull and rose theme drawing, sigh. Cocktail hour. Can't believe people can attend a cocktail hour with a straight face. Takes all sorts I suppose. Went down to room as they were setting up and by 8:20 when got back with Katie booze hounds had finished everything except some dodgy looking appetizers.

More lazing about, looked at the stars a bit. If we were ever cruising at night (which would make a hell of a lot more sense) maybe could really see some. So after dinner docked in Edfu and they let us loose so mercifully missed the lotto and dancing on board. Walked along the waterfront. In Luxor the horses looked actually in better shape than some in Cairo. But shit they were sorry looking in Edfu. Could see every bone in some of them others with horrific looking sores. One of few occasions where I feel any virtue in the invention of cars. A screwed up car is hell of a lot easier to watch than a screwed up horse. Mother of a tourist that would get into something pulled by one of those. So wandered a bit, a lot of people saying welcome to Alaska, somewhat inexplicably. Every other person wants you to come in and see their shop, the line here is trying to make you promise you'll come in on your way back. So actually went into a joint right near the boat, of the stone and "stone" variety. Katie was looking at alabaster pots for her mother and the suspicious black Bastet statues for her step mother. So I opened my mouth and set off a hell of a lot of weirdness. All I asked was something along the lines of "I don't want to be insulting but what is this really, I work with stone and its not basalt" said it in a pretty apologetic tone (was in a good mood, because I'd escaped the boat no doubt, so not feeling unusually smart assed). The reply was not on the subject at hand but asked what kind of stone did I work with. I said mostly marble. So we looked at the alabaster some. Before we started talking it was something crazy like 300L I sort of felt obliged to point out that it was a varnish finish on it, which I don't think I ever quite got him to admit to. One way or another we did go through most of the stuff in the shop and I at least got to hear what it all was. The black stuff I cant remember quite what the word he used was, but he nodded when I said bonded basalt . The "rustic" scarabs are alabaster that they actually glaze and fire, he felt he should point out several times that it would not fade. Quite odd. I tried to ask why they do them that way rather than ceramic (no way I suppose the market would bear the cost of real faience ones) and he was saying "no not ceramic, that ceramic" pointing to a earthware type thing in the corner, "porcelain". I suppose the fine clay just isn't locally available. He also asked me to identify what the green and blue stuff was. Almost had to laugh at that, would have to be a half blind turnip not to be able to tell that they're rather garishly colored resin. He was saying "people come say want lapis lazuli or want malachite. no mountain lapis lazuli here so this lapis lazuli." I suppose anyone stupid enough that they can't distinguish stone and marbleized plastic deserves to be taken. Also asked if he had any uncarved stone he said he could get some for tomorrow. So we sat quite a while around this pot, debating its price. I was trying to give Katie a realistic view of how much it could reasonably be valued, which is hard first because it was not quite crude but very rustic workmanship which isn't my thing and part because I know what a chunk of white alabaster and a laborers day to make it into a pot costs back home but here presumably both cost essentially nothing. Also trying not to be insulting to him if I could help it. He kept appealing to me that I was a stone worker to put a price on it, counting no doubt (correctly) on confusion over fair US and Egyptian prices to work out in his favor. In the end Katie went for the pot and cat. Have to admit no idea about local prices wouldn't be at all bad US I suppose. So he insisted on tea being serve d, (only later when Katie mentioned it did my mind start running over what you could catch from improperly washed glasses. Typhoid I suppose, TB? would prefer not to dwell on the thought, would also prefer if she'd mentioned it beforehand) So we had something resembling a conversation. For the first time in dealing with someone we attempted to clarify that when we said we were friends, not married, 'friends' wasn't meant as a euphemism. Groping quite a bit actually for a way to say that which avoided the word euphemism which he presumably wouldn't get but was also not unusually embarrassing. He clearly found this hard to swallow, however he moved on to how much he'd like to marry Katie if she wanted to live in Egypt and he'd give her all his three shops. Sort of joking obviously.... I think. Anyway took off. Katie needed to got to the bathroom, but before we did he said that maybe if I came back in 15 min he'd have some stone. So back to the room. Waited a bit and came back out by myself. He didn't have any stone said that the place where he had it was closed because someone had left with a key or something. But he said he wanted to talk so reiterating I wasn't buying anything sat down on the floor with him. Things got really weird. For about an hour he was asking me questions and telling me things. Firstly, I think he came from left field with questions about American sexual practices. He'd seen on tv that in America they were making it so men could marry men, how was this possible? how can it happen? here someone who did such a thing would be killed. Did I know such people? Not a low key subject to dance through without offending him or saying something I didn't mean. Not to mention wondering why the hell he was asking me this in the first place. Subject drifted somewhat to American mores in general. In the process of answering I was trying to explain all the different levels of permissiveness that were practiced in the US and a little disturbed at how much I had to think to come up with something else you wouldn't do if you were further to the right than me, missing out on all the fun ain't I. Conversation wandered between more or less innocuous topics and quite disturbing ones. He was curious how long it took my hair to get this long and I told him I'd been growing it for a couple years. Then was back on Katie. We really traveled together and slept in the same room but didn't do anything? really? really? why? It was clearly inconceivable. I tried to explain that in the US men and women traveling together didn't mean anything. Like your sister, he suggested and I agreed with some reservation for lack of a better description. So did I have brothers. sisters how old? I answered. And I really didn't sleep with women? really? any? at all? drink whiskey? smoke? hashish? He actually shook my hand at meeting such a prodigy, felt more of an ass than usual. It was surreal. He was back again on how was it possible to live with someone and not be involved, said it presented challenges. He took an excessive interest in this and wanted to know for which parties. Mumbled. Change of tack. He said his father loved his brother because his brother "no women. no drink. no hashish" but he was bad and his father didn't love him. I was at something of a loss for a response to that as well, muttered something about parents should always love their children. He was saying how loose westerners were. So many women coming through. He appeared to be saying, (no he did state, any lack of clarity in the statement was a result of my brain fleeing the scene), some trade sexual favors for crap from the shop. I was trying to pretend I was elsewhere at that point, and planning my escape. More fun, he asked me around this point if I knew where he could get a book about sex. Now I suppose you should never admit to being this naive, but given the weird way he phrased it and since we'd just had this talk about sexual mores, for almost a full minute I thought he was asking about some sort of scholarly analysis of western sexuality. Presumably any readers will get there faster than I did. Luckily the reply I had half out to what I'd though the question was worked just as well. There were but didn't know how he could acquire one. He seemed a bit disappointed, and fell silent. I felt it necessary to chime in with "but your better off without it". He nodded and was silent for a bit more. Again for some reason (I get funny when its past my bedtime) I felt it necessary to add "but I suppose if you wanted someone to preach at you, you could find that here". He didn't get it. Word preach threw him I think. I rephrased it, "If you wanted people to tell you God wants you to do this, God wants you to do that, you could find that here". Unexpectedly, he seemed to find that genuinely funny, laughed and did the shaking my hand thing again, felt a complete ass again. Of course at least once more he had to check that my story hadn't changed that I really didn't sleep with Katie, "even kissing"? "But was I at least thinking about marrying her? why not?" He felt he should list some of her apparent virtues which perhaps I hadn't noticed. She was very pretty. I agreed. Seemed, good, nice. I agreed. She wasn't "big, strong" which I took to mean she was slender, I shrugged, latent political correctness refusing to let me acknowledge that as a virtue. So why not? I tried to say that things were not simple in the US, you could have a friend who is like a sister or like a wife. Just because you were close to someone, things do not necessarily move in a romantic, never mind marital direction. You were never sure quite where you stand, how to define your relations with other people. Tried to say something like that at any rate. What I wound up doing more than anything else was waving my hands in the air and muttering. Im not sure if he got it, he nodded though. Not sure what else we touched on. There were all sorts of random things. The fact that I didn't carve stone for a living, how hard it was to live selling people things, that I worked with computers. How difficult it must be dealing with tourists. He also asked why I always played with my beard, was uncertain as to an answer, the immediate one that your asking questions that make me uncomfortable and it's a nervous habit didn't seem too good. So just said Id picked it up from TV. Said I'd been a little surprised at how few people in Egypt had beards, that Americans tend to think of arabs as all having big beards like Yasser Arafat, he thought this was really funny as well. Was around 1:00 when I finally left. By then he was promising to give me the stone tomorrow. It was strange. I've know people for years and had less in depth conversations with them, also had few conversations that were so uninterruptedly discomforting. The whole experience was a prime example of how I wound up doing things for no readily apparent reason in Egypt. He said he had a shop at the temple and would find me there I wasn't sure how realistic that was but said my goodbyes. Back to the room Katie still up, she seemed to find my brief description of the conversation unusual. Commented she supposed the conversation wouldn't have taken place with her there, certainly true, one of those strange things about Egypt. Had a bit of trouble getting to sleep. Woke up around 4 by some kind of alarm bell that went for a while faded, started faded ... for 15 min or so. Was expecting to hear cries of "fire" at any moment and suffering from varying paranoid delusions. Vague recollection of a bad dream.

Up off to temple which was quite impressive in how large and intact it was, even if it is a bit later period. Wished I could get a shot of someone in one of the beams of light but didn't ah well. Didn't see the dude though I didn't make a full circuit of the stands near the temple. In the end, admit I had some reluctance to talk to him again in the more sober light of day. In any case, didn't see him and back to the boat, saw the other guy who worked with him lurking around the landing. Now I feel bad I didn't try harder to find him, whatever meaning our conversation had, ah well. Cruising again, Katie and I are both going crazy from the inactivity and listening to the other peoples inane conversations. Katie's solution is to sleep as much of the day as possible. I on the other hand am keeping this obsessive record. And so it goes. So we did the crocodile temple, was neat though weren't there for too long. Going in saw two dudes carrying off a woman who fainted from the heat. No joke this tourist stuff. So dinner with everyone in "local" garb. Well not quite everyone, not me for one nor Katie. But they all seemed happy at least. Actually saw a shooting star, maybe I've seen one before but I really don't recall having done so. Makes a kind of wacky first to top thing off. Strange now that I think of it that I have sort of made a thing out of stars when I have had so little contact with the real thing. Perhaps that's part of the reason I have made them a thing. So dude from tour agency showed up and giving Katie a hard time about having a voucher for something or other. So she came back down pissed off, told to look for it, when back up discovered it was supposed to be given to us by the person who was supposed to have met us. Though of course nobody did since we didn't come into the airport. So whatever, despite Katie being ready to kill him when she came down before, we now wound up forking over 50 US to go to the sound and light show the next day on Philae. In any case, ate stood bout etc.

Anyway, today for the temple that they moved. Took pictures, tried to find a bat to get a shot of but no luck. Then to the high dam where we were informed that we cold take pictures but no video or zooms, somehow it seems that if your hostile power can afford a spy with a zoom they could afford to buy satellite shots off the internet. Anyway that was that tour wise. Lunch with some of new posse. Couple from Nashville to our right. If Americans can often give the impression of being boorish and not too swift (these certainly did) at least they're friendly and relatively straight forward. Take them over the frogs at the end of the table. (Katie not fond of them though) We heard about they're son in robotics. Does everyone on this cruise have a relative in robotics? Went out to look at the internet place with Natalie, another American from Mass. whose been working at a hotel in Zanzibar. Got one Casanova and a couple two wives while ploughing our way through the felucca people . Her being tall, blond and wearing a sleeveless top tended to attract attention. Got very irritating very quick, have to say I was a little surprised at how quickly being taken for a mac daddy got old.. Made it to the internet place, 15 min for 5L, couldn't get Telnet connection to anything up not sure why. Tried some http based mail site or other Katie suggested but any real mail pretty lost in the mass of java 3D newsgroup messages.. Then the power went out. Back on in eight minutes or so. Walked around a bit, all the way down the street where they're building a big Coptic cathedral then up through the bazaar. A lot of spice stands selling among other things a bright blue powder which according to them was indigo, sold as laundry blueing. Seriously considered getting some but would never use it I'm sure, not sure it could be used as a dye anyway. Katie found her deodorant, so no further worries about offending western proprieties. Walked all the way back rather hot. Observing the quality of horseflesh all the way, not great but not as bad as Edfu. Some on the flashier carriages even looked healthy. Noted yet another more disturbing variety of cop, could call them plainclothes, wearing khakis and tending toward bright button down shirts, hard to be inconspicuous though while casually dangling an HK by the strap, their only apparent badge of authority. Most of the AK47 variety here have two clips taped together, can confirm that the second clip at least is loaded. So Katie fell asleep (again). I wandered up on deck, musing on not having seen the botanical gardens and what Marianne North would think of me. So I was easy prey to the felucca guy calling up to the ship. Off to Kitchner island sailing to which took more like a half hour than his promised ten minutes. So of course by the time I was there I had about five minutes before I was chased out (politely it must be said) by HK toting guards. (tried to take the opportunity to try and get a good look at them, bunch of red writing on the side but too small to make out) So took a very brief look, around. Generally the island seemed like a very nice place to chill but not too impressive as a botanical garden. Didn't get too much of a chance to really observe the plants thought. On the way over I was asked to read a letter to one of the two felucca guys from a woman in France. Had met him taking a felucca down river (I asked the guy how they did it he pointed to wood on the sides under the seat and said they put it up on the sides, wacky way to travel long distance.) The other one who spoke English translated what I said into arabic, and felt it necessary to inform me that they were lovers when she was in Egypt. Her letter said she had just divorced her husband, was living with her parents, would be coming to Egypt, would never forget their wonderful time together, etc, etc. I was watching the guy to whom this was being told and he seemed not unusually stirred by any of it. Being in the start of a funny mood I could have done without hearing about other peoples love lives. Took a couple pictures of the flowers before departing. Headed back for the boat. The gangplank had floated off, one guy went to get it, resisted the natural urge to jump after it myself. He sort of as a courtesy I guess laid it down for the boatload of departing guards to pass to their police ship, then headed back toward our ship. Funny mood as I've stated so seemed like a really great idea to step into the Nile and climb into the felucca before he got there. So with a "what the fuck" likely louder than I meant, stepped into the Nile (big deal all of three inches) and walked to the boat. Predictable flurry of little mutters and after the fact gestures that I shouldn't do what I'd just done. I need to get over the urge for these minor acts of exhibitionism. Brief worry I'd have trouble hopping into the boat but made it in ok. Guy wiped up drips on his planks. Got a laugh out of the boatload of guards one pointed at me and made elaborate swimming gestures. Felt inordinately proud of doing my bit to convince them that Americans are all insane. (Never again am I likely to get a laugh out of that many people holding automatic weapons, so I suppose it was worth it for that alone. Can also say I was in the Nile) Asked them to pull off toward the side of the island so I could try and get a picture of the ibises. Got a couple shots and headed back. Met Katie back on deck, and dinnerward. Talking to the Americans. I really don't do things like that usually but couldn't help but correct the guy when he started to ask the two people from Singapore how they felt about their countries transition to Chinese rule. "My God they've invaded since we left!" sprung to mind as a possible response on their part but they clearly had no idea what he was talking about. Saved from further embarrassment for our country by arrival of two Brits currently living in the Mideast (forgotten where). Talked with them about being in London for new year, travel in general. Threw out a relatively subtle trawl for either being a Dr who fan (which just shows what an utter looser I am) but no bites. Had an eye on the clock all the time for the sound and light show. Anyway at 8:45 went down and asked for more time from the guy who said could wait 10 min tops. Waited 10 min for food that never came and departed by van, then ran to motor boat piloted by a small kid which took us to Philea. It was a neat ride, stars water, the rocks all around. heading toward the lit up island. Nothing says class like child labor. The show was an experience, just to be there was something. The presentation itself was ok, just a little over the top. Sometimes interesting sometimes cringe worthy. If God doesn't have a British accent at least they are convinced Egyptian gods do. Had the strangest feeling I'd heard it before. Whole what has happened to your temple bit. Maybe mom quoted some of the lines from when she was here. Takes balls to put approval for ones civic works projects in the mouths of ancient deities. Still was beautiful. So back we are again for the last time. Wrote most of this in the dark hitting up arrow on bloody keypad most times I was trying for the period will be (was) hell to sort out.

So next morning woke at 6:45, got ready. Breakfast, not many there, checked out, left bags and walked with Natalie to Nubian museum. Was apparently on different time, didn't open till 9:00 instead of 8:00 so waited ten minutes. Then waited another ten it seemed while the ticket guy stared at my Rutgers ID. He pointed out that it did not say student. (true I realize) and finally went off to find someone else that actually read more than that one word of English to pronounce judgement on it. Would have just paid the extra 3 bucks. But he came back with a verdict of yes. Maybe should complain to Rutgers about that. Museum had some nice stuff, some pretty stone sculptures. Meant to take a cab back but wound up walking, habit of telling cab drivers no too strong. Natalie took her transport we wound up with a cab that started at 40 and wound up after various battling at 27. Kind of long drive to the airport. Was told I needed to put my knife "in big bag not take on plane" so stuck it in my pack and that seemed to satisfy them. Planned to play the dumb tourist so didn't check it, no problems at the second x ray. Plane ride was a bit bumpy. Got a bit of cakeish stuff during the flight. Cab on other end started 60 wound up 32 didn't feel like arguing. Mubarek was apparently coming in and there were hordes of cops stationed along rather a big stretch of the highway not visibly armed and in varying positions, good 70 percent at parade ease (think that's the term) others drinking bottled water, picking their noses etc. I only thought to start counting bit more than halfway through and counted 169 on one side. Would guess at over 500 being there all together. Got there despite the drivers personal certainty we wanted to go to another hotel on the same street. "cheaper, your hotel more expensive and probably full" got our old room, almost feeling like home. Out to try and get monastery stuff set up at Misr agency, they didn't know anything about it. So went back to place we'd tried when first in Cairo and anted up to get a driver tomorrow. Kind of high 150 US total but oh well. So back to hotel then back out for dinner, relatively nice local place, had an automatic door, no other tourists. Pretty good mutton I think cooked with vegetables, finished off Katie's chicken Wandered into a pastry shop but needed to order at the register first and wasn't immediately clear how we were going to do it besides not being too hungry so gave up. Back for Katie to go to the bathroom, out again for provisions for the monastery adventure shower, washed shirts, to bed.

I think I'll let the below paragraph, written at the end of the day, stand as a record of yesterday. having just unrun the words.

First day feeling poorly. driver 6:00 mist in desert arrive .assaulted by monk. Cassiopeia. 2km uphill noon. smelled. Korean pilgrims got lost coming back very poorly

Paranoia did in fact win out and woke up at 5:15 before our wake up "call" which came while I was in the bathroom in the form of a rather anemic knock on the door. Never, at least not before 6.00 when we left, followed by the promised breakfast. So left key on desk, night attendant being asleep on the couch and headed down. Driver waiting along with younger guy who introduced the other two as our driver and guide. Driver thin, guide larger, both Coptic as it transpired. So we set out. Got outside of Cairo was having a hard time staying awake. Weird landscape, mixture of desert and piles of building rubble, sometimes hard to tell one from the other. There was a mist over the dessert..Thought it was dust at first but genuine fog, blocking the sun, cutting visibility significantly at times. Seemed to have passed it, or dissipated by 7:30. Wasn't feeling well. Upset stomach for the first time since we arrived. Also a bit mentally unstable, had this odd feeling that something bad was going to happen and just a general panic. Overtired I suppose. Praying sporadically for us to make it through interspersed with graphic visions of what could go wrong (my head, or worse Katie's bouncing along the highway from a collision with a tractor trailer, rain of terrorist automatic weapons fire etc, etc). And so it goes. Through a police checkpoint where driver had to talk to cop more than was good for my peace of mind, all I recognized was name of where we were going. Soon after hit the Red sea. Seemed to be developments in progress all along. Resorts of some sort though didn't see much beach. A lot of shacks as well, though didn't see any people stirring. So hit a big sign saying St. Anthony's monastery at a turnoff, with a couple kids waiting there trying to hitch a ride. Driver put them in the trunk with the hood open. They seemed happy enough, could see them through the back window. At gatehouse asked us to get out and sign a register Katie did the signing, I stood about and looked gaumless. Then into the compound itself where we were met by this monk in the usual get up with a kind of dirty santa claus looking beard and moustache. He led us to some sitting room and asked us a couple vague conversational questions. Another monk came in and asked me to come into the next room. General bad vibe about the group splitting, apparently with sort of good reason. Went to next room to sign another register, this one had a entry for passport number, dammed if I know why, so dragged it out to write the number down. In the meantime it seems the monk (fr Rueis Anthony if posterity or the fates care) had put his arm around Katie and sort of put her head on his shoulder and she was understandably starting to flip. Writing it down it sounds quit bad, taking the experience as a whole I have no idea what was going on. I got back. He found out my name, asked for me to give him my arm whipped out a pen and drew this stylized picture of St Anthony on me, I just kind of stared at him. It took me a bit to notice what he was doing, a bit more to notice how uncomfortable it was making Katie. In any case asked us some more general questions and started a tour of sorts relatively brief. Bookstore, mill, winch for raising stuff into the compound. Have to admit I didn't pay much attention to any of it, and we didn't see the library which was the only thing that had sounded interesting. Though under different circumstances would have likely taken an interest in the mechanisms, all wooden, for the various devices. I was sort of trying to run interference between them while walking but with no particular effect. The pisser was he asked us several times if something was wrong. I'm really clueless as to what was going on. He was doing it openly while walking around the and he certainly never really stepped over a line as it were, but I find it hard to believe especially in a larger society where men don't touch women someone could innocently do that as a sign of affection.. Can priests really be considered above suspicion here in a way they're distinctly not in the states, I can't imagine someone doing that even with innocent intentions unless that were the case. Anyway as he showed us the water supply (and made us drink some, which I'm irrationally sure is what really did me in) he asked again if anything was wrong. Finally I said I think what your doing is making her uncomfortable. He didn't seem to understand, Katie added something. he said it was "an expression of love" a poor choice of phrase. Apologized though he didn't really stop. Angry with myself a well, felt like the only occasion where I was called upon to do something I was a limp shit as usual. Then to add the final touch, and complete the spiral into insanity he asked me if I could connect his PDA to the desktop in the bookstore. It was a windows CE deal, had to take the mouse out of the serial port to hook it up so had to keep asking this kid (his nephew or something) clearly used to it, what the keyboard equivalents for things were. I've never done it before, tried direct connection from PC, tried PC connection on the PDA. Started over again on the PC with com 1 and the PC as host, was told I had to install file and print sharing, tried, needed win 98 cd, rummaged through stack of burned CDS with title scrawled on inside of case (they aint kidding when they say 80% of software in Egypt is pirated). Long and short got them to each claim they were connected to each other but didn't know how to transfer anything. Was expecting a folder for the remote machine to pop up or something, and there was strangely no network neighborhood. While doing this I had to continually tell members of a bus load of Korean pilgrims that I didn't work there and couldn't take money for they're purchases. Admitted defeat. Bid present goodbye to monk, he asked me to send him a compact flash card for the bloody thing, was noncommital, and off again.

This time to truly earn our crazy American merit badges by climbing the 2km to St Anthony's cave uphill at noon, all that can be said in our defense is we wanted to get away and we brought water. Started up the steps which were stone to which iron guard rails had been added and right angle iron across the font of each step (why I can't imagine), which made them a bit uncomfortable to climb. In traditional fashion the job was never quite completed. Though none of the work looked new, there were bits of pipe and rubble strewn all over as well as what appeared to be the diesel generator used to power the enterprise stranded halfway up the mountain under an old blanket. Quite impressive in its own way though. As far as you see just rock and dust and stairs leading up. About halfway up there was a chapel, locked up, covered with arabic scrawl in charcoal whether general graffiti or messages from the faithful impossible, for me at least, to tell. Also picture of st Anthony like the monk drew on my arm. I was regretting the climb. Legs wobbly. chest tightening in a disturbing manner, breathing heavily, but at least we had water. Bit further up discovered the driver and guide were following. As we neared the top could hear singing, took me a bit to figure out what it was: the Korean group was at the cave ahead and signing hymns Reached the top and sat down, shared an orange. I took some pictures for the Korean group. Then they each took their pictures individually in front of the cave. By then the driver and guide had reached the top clearly not without difficulty. Koreans headed down, we tried the   cave, low narrow tunnel leading into medium small chamber with steps to a lower level where there was a altar and several icons. Part of the floor was covered with concrete. the stone was worn and greasy looking with the passage of feet. It smelled, kind of sickly sweet, stale incense, I think and general funk. About half a minute did it for me. Presumably it was a little more pleasant when he was there. Asceticism is one thing but to live in that you'd have to be plain crazy. So made our way down slowly. Drove to the bathrooms which were unusually sketchy. Labeled as men's and women's only in Arabic. First stall was a toilet of sorts that clearly didn't flush. While attempting to put the seat up the whole assemblage fell off with a crash and a bit of it flew across the room. Beat a hasty retreat to the next stall which was much friendlier looking concrete trough. Bought mango drink (boxed) from place labeled monastery canteen. Katie said the monk had wanted us to say goodbye so we reluctantly tried to find him with drivers aid. He was apparently off with another group so Katie left a note saying what I don't know. And off again, driver asked if we wanted to go to another church in the area but were dead despite how little we did. I slept through most of the ride back which took at least four hours. recall them asking directions at a gas station, KFC in the middle of nowhere in the dessert. The guide switched with the driver at some point. Also asked us if we were going anywhere in the next couple days but we weren't. Seemed a nice enough pair though. Back to collapse for a bit. Katie said she'd never get the monks smell out of her nose. Disturbing. So it goes. She took a long shower and we headed across the street for dinner. Got mashed foul and regretted it as soon as it arrived. It wasn't bad but it wasn't good either, swimming in oil and the consistency of fine vomit. Despite having eaten only a couple biscuits and a half orange in the entire day and the fact there probably wasn't a cup and a half of it could hardly eat it... did in the end though. Katie managed half her stuffed vegetables. I couldn't help, plead extenuating circumstances. Wrote the paragraph given above and in bed by 9, grateful we hadn't planned to go to Alexandria the next day. I was starting to get chills and felt the end was near, more fevered prayers before sleep.

Actually felt much better come morning. At breakfast sat next to a slightly seedy looking British guy who was spreading marmite on his hotel issue stale roll. I started the conversation commenting on marmite which he accused of being responsible for half the worlds trouble by being the foundation on which the British empire was built (though he admitted he couldn't swear it was old enough for that to be the case). His name I think was John,(It was John Hiller in fact) unemployed, diabetic (hence he said the preference for marmite over jam) fell in love with archeology and a local Coptic girl while visiting his big brother who worked in Cairo 10 years back. He was cool, though very random and stream of consciousness. He said about him and the girl that it was as if God had meant them to be together but messed up a bit in making them so different in age, background, across the world from each other and breathed a sigh of relief when they finally met, joked that they might even invite him to the wedding. Trained in electronics, explaining an ongoing project of his to recreate the tomb of Seti I in VRML and how he'd hooked his computer with a projection monitor to a treadmill and mirrors to form a do it yourself CAVE. Also the particular mechanism he'd developed to zoom in when you lean on the treadmill handrails (if I remembered it Id preserve that for posterity as well but I don't). Also explaining how he'd hooked his first computer up to a piano in an attempt to learn to play and just missed inventing MIDI. Think he's the sort the British empire was built on (at least if you believe your historical romances) people just this side of the thin border between eccentric and loony but capable of a bit of genius if put in the right place at the right time. He may be 100 odd years late (actually in a later conversation he described himself as a man after his time) but who knows, he said he had spoke to a lighting guy who'd passed through about trying to make the project a commercial venture. So we talked VRML and stuff a bit, time was getting on, finally left. He was so deep in conversation he almost forgot his marmite. Hope we actually see him again, didn't think to give him my email. Suppose I should watch out, or I'll wind out being just like that in 20 years, not so bad a thing perhaps if I can lay claim to all parts of the situation. So first to Ramses and without much pain got tickets for next day to Alexandria. Then Coptic Cairo wandered into the churches, tons of local pilgrims, groups of small children on trips. Who invariably ask "what your name" answering Antonio saves being asked three times. The churches were interesting but not spectacular, the narrow streets were cool though, and it was sort of nice to be surrounded by tourist and Westernized Coptics I have to admit. Stopped for a drink then visited the Coptic museum the entire yard of which (described as lush in the guidebook) had become a construction site you needed to weave through to get to the museum. Had some interesting bits of stone, couple swords, some manuscripts. From there back to subway up three stops and on foot to the Gayer Anderson museum. Through a lot of more local areas, turkeys walking about and the like, a lot of trash on the streets. though no open sewers. Couldn't find restaurant that was supposed to be on the way. Knew we were in the area but not sure quite where to go. Turned out needed to go in a relatively inconspicuous door, past the big mosque. Paid for a camera ticket but needed to check our bags. As we got in lept upon by a guy who asked us how much we paid. I really tried but couldn't figure it out I knew Id given him 40 and had the change in my pocket, took it out and sort of fumbled through it, knew I needed to subtract the change from 40 but between general mathematical disability and tiredness couldn't manage. Looked so distressed guy felt it necessary to explain he was security trying to make sure we weren't cheated. Finally Katie, more visibly irritated than I'd seen her so far, (though not all that irritated in absolute terms), took the money and determined everything was kosher. I would have stared at that money till someone else did something, I summoned the wits to declare everything ok without counting or just burst into tears, counting it was just not happening. We were guided by a rather large gentleman who we thought was going to die climbing the stairs. Impressive place, though bit grungy. Should have taken more pictures, get interior design ideas for my future mansion. Curio room, beautiful room with a marble fountain that the guide says was in a James Bond movie. Definitely worth the visit though would have appreciated it better without the guy panting over us the whole time. Back by cab, guy didn't seem to understand Katie when she said Tahir. He stopped a cop who asked "where go" repeated Tahir several times and he got it. Pronunciation thing presumably. Gave the guy 7 he spoke English well enough to demand 10, gave him two more and got out he still wanted the last one. I was in just the mood to get into a big fight over 30 cents but Katie gave it to him. Like every phone # in Egypt the ATT access # was no good so Katie made a 5 min call home on 30 L phone card. Back to hotel and collapse. Katie wanted to try a floating restaurant so we made it out (for her) to make reservation. Shower. even shaved, out at 7:00. Was interesting the food, a buffet, was pretty good. Entertainment strange a band that did some Arabic then a Japanese then Chinese song the respective target tour groups seemed to enjoy their songs. Went up on deck part way through the belly dancer (a form of entertainment I genuinely don't get, yes it is amusing to watch a portly tourists try and imitate the dancer but the dancer herself is never unusually interesting, maybe these shows are a toned down tourist version but its certainly not sexy) Watched lights of Cairo, missed twirly skirt guy ah well. Headed back having never had dessert, a clear sign that I wasn't feeling 100%. No that bad though. Yet another person struck up a conversation walking back said he was a heart specialist at American University. Asked how long we'd been here, answered, he replied "over a week and still smiling, amazing" It is rather, the fact that I can still reply to yet another "Welcome Egypt " with a smile and a thank you must be a sign of some previously untapped spring of love for my fellow human vermin. On a related subject Katie was talking about roaches in her old house. How they got into everything. Not a pleasant thought in a couple ways, again. Why many are not fond of insects I suppose. Always seemed, still does, why don't people chill, just a couple ants or whatever, keep the food sealed and live and let live. I suppose with a full scale invasion there's that sense of violation. Up early and off to Alexandria two and a bit hour train ride, uneventful, despite my being gaumless as usual about asking both which train we wanted and where we wanted to get of. I ask someone a question and their answer makes on sense, so I smile and go away. What else is there to do? Managed to get off properly. Walked about a block and were lost for only half a minute before giving up and taking a cab the five min to the hotel, After checking in, while waiting for room, watching the taxi driver doing something at the desk, collecting his cut perhaps. Sea Star the name reasonable in a shoddy sort of way has a new TV and these odd unpainted fiberboard cut out finials around the doorknobs. Toilet a bit of a disappointment I have to say, especially as I've been so intimately acquainted with it. Seat held together with brown packing tape (of the same variety that the lower class of guards tape their banana clips together with no doubt) Also a brass tube looping beneath the seat down to a bit above water level then pointing straight up more or less in the center of the bowl. Unable to determine its function definitely, was half expecting it to act like a fountain when you flush but was disappointed. Best guess a homespun bidet I don't intend to test the theory. In any case its position is so mentally discomforting that despite being an "after market add on" I think it wrests the poorly engineered toilet award from the low flow toilet in Moscow with the raised waterless basin in the middle of the bowl which my roommate called a display dish. Lunch at a "fast food" place a Egyptian pizza thing, eyed the tomato and pepper with distrust not appearing sufficiently dead. Hardly seemed to matter at this point. Again the thought of it still makes me a bit queasy, though again there was nothing wrong with it . From there to the Greco Roman museum which seemed a pretty pleasant place. Got camera ticket and presented it to the guard at the entrance who asked me "you have a camera in your bag". Answered yes, "You going to use it?" thought for a moment, if this was a trick question what the proper response might be before making a hesitant yes. He nodded and let me through didn't ask Katie anything. Sort of traditional Spartan layout minimal labels in English arabic and french. Some nice stuff a lot o general odds and ends of fragmentary sculpture it seems nobody else felt was worth stealing. Some truly beautiful roman glass. Quite a large coin collection as well though they seemed to have cleaned them down to the bear metal which I wasn't aware you were supposed to do. Seems like it would have been a nice out of the way place to plunk for day and sketch, but Katie wanted to see the waterfront and try and find the reputed Catholic church. So walked to the water especially cooler by it, a lot of gook floating but otherwise nice enough. Walked along dodged traffic which Im getting tired of doing. Would it kill them to put in an occasional stop light, my nerves would thank them. Stopped by yet another random guy practicing his English on unsuspecting foreigners, Katie thought he was selling something. Forgetting where I was I almost pegged him as a Jehovah's witness but he was innocent on both counts. Wandered through another market. Watched with horror a kid playing toss with one of a couple reject dead birds of some description left in a corner couple feet away from the cages of their more lively brethren, guy came by and dragged him off. Katie almost knocked in the head with half a dead cow, not amused. (can we say vegetarian) She said if she had that would have been the end we'd be on the next train to Cairo and the next flight out. Found the church eventually we'd turned off into the market twenty feet before we would have hit the door. Was a french congregation, go figure. Sat in a square for 45 min avoiding the smell of sewage to one side and a minor dispute to the other and went back for mass at 5:00. Thought Sun mass on Sat night was a exclusively American thing which may be the case as mass was for feast of the miraculous medal (never heard of it) obviously understood nothing but the word Jesu through the whole thing, sort of falling asleep anyway. Afterward they did a bit of a procession of the Madonna. Spoke briefly with a guy who spoke a bit of Italian and a bit of English had a sister in NJ. He said St. Catherine down the street had mass in English and Italian Sunday. Not sure we're feeling so holy as to seek out a proper Sunday mass tomorrow. Usher type of guy managed to bum a dollar off me for no readily apparent reason, at least it seemed to make him happy. that sucker on my forehead gets bigger and bigger. Wandered back and collapsed. Dinner was a granola bar, Katie's really homesick. I'm just sick. Up 8:00 ish. (the fact we continue to get up so early due to going to bed at 10:00) breakfast (better than 'home', rolls not stale and little tin foiled soft cheese wedge) watching a arabic music video. Dude in a black trenchcoat wandering about at night and apparently recalling happy memories of times spent with this woman with a lot of makeup and an outrageous hat. I interpreted her as having married a fat rich guy briefly pictured, Katie thought that was her father, who can say. Took the tram to the citadel. Was surprisingly easy to find the right tram, cost 15p. Relatively small, nice fort reputedly made from the remains of the Pharos lighthouse. Would have preferred the lighthouse myself (or even the ruins). Doing a lot of work on it. Guys outside facing limestone blocks by hand . Even a scuba diver wandering through. Could walk along part of the wall which we did. Also a small museum in the main tower with some naval bits and bob. That just about did us. Were going to wimp and eat at a pizza hut which I have to admit seemed shamefully appealing but wasn't one near so ate at native place from the guide. Falafel which was quite good. The soda was fountain I think so will likely be the end of me but it was Apple Fanta which I'd never had before, maybe I was just thirsty but it seemed like the best thing ever. Food was good and only 5.50 what do you want for under two dollars. Shows how cheap this could have been if we'd have survived going native. Back to the hotel to gets bags then back to Train Station. The sight of Katie with that pack becomes more painful each time. Sat in front of what turned out to be our train for half hour. A persistent psting coming from train behind us which Katie said was from someone who was exposing themselves. Lovely, once again feeling I was falling down on the job, but what can you really do, shout and carry on I suppose, "the things you see when you haven't got your gun" Back to Cairo 1 day left. Flopped, this time in the room across the hall from prior locale. Out to dinner at nice looking place reputed to do "European" food. Result was sketchy pasta. You have to be pretty sketchy to do sketchy pasta. Talked a bit about respective high school experiences and I had the minor satisfaction that both of ours may have been lousy but mine seem to have been more alienated and brooding. Why that is something I should be proud of I can't say. Discussed that and romance which invariably plays a part in bad high school experiences. So it goes.

Breakfast, rolls weren't even stale this time almost sat next to the British guy but at last minute the waiter steered us to another spot. For our own protection I suppose he thought. I had wanted to talk to him. Sat pissed with myself that I do what people tell me to rather than what I want all through breakfast. Though of course as he was leaving it only took half a word to set him off for 15 min. on the subject of Javascript and his tombs again. Interesting in that I usually so dislike computer people, being one myself, part of the reason is they seem to so seldom do anything cool with their enthusiasm. They buy like good little consumers, drivel a lot but never actually do anything. Sort of like sports fans but slightly less contemptible because at least it's a technical subject. So it was cool to talk to him, gave him one of my pseudo cards I'd printed up when working the renaissance festival on which I purport to be a painter.

So with that circular theme that I so admire in literature we decided to kill part of the last day with a return to the bazar. This time arrived on foot getting only minorly lost and without other incident. I take that back, Katie saw a woman step on a dead kitten and it fold in half, mercifully I missed it. Wandered over some of the same ground and some stuff we hadn't seen before, Katie bought a few things for family members, I didn't, the one thing I'd have been tempted by was the big hanging lamps, but they were big, breakable and in any case the only painted ones I saw were kind of tacky, and the plain ones a little rustic. My general inclination is so against buying things that any extra little impediment will make it impossible. Stopped for a snack and drink in a pretty touristy place but it was nice to sit. I really am getting tetchy in general with people, looking at us, honking at us, making strange noises at Katie, making amusing comments of varying sorts. Even the relatively innocuous like "you a lucky man" I found not the slightest bit funny and pissed me more than it had any reason to. Not to mention the final product offer in a shopkeepers spiel "a knife to kill your wife" which had me reaching for the mental gun yet again. In any case wandered past the metalworkers again which was still interesting. Though no black smithing going on today. Wound up with half a 10 scarab purchase by Katie. They're of a better variety, still stone though and likely painted rather than glazed and fired, at least I wont leave entirely empty handed. Then did the northern walk in the guide. Would have made more sense if we'd actually gone into some of the mosques but didn't. So walked, got stared at, honked at a lot. Katie had usual funny noises made at her. The path it brought us through had some less showy but perhaps more practical metalsmiths making galvanized ducting and the like. Strange thought something I know pretty intimately as a hobby here is still a job. This is a place where its still normal for things to be handmade by real people rather than it being a statement of a sort. And so they make a lot of crap by hand as well as some cool stuff, shows there's no reason to go overly romantic on the handmade tradition I suppose (What would William Morris think!) So went back the way we came, the streets were really insane by this time, bit less packed than say San Gennaro but everyone was also trying to do their household shopping, and get cars, carts, trucks through. Stuff you would have thought would never physically fit, honking away or with people clearing the way. Definitely a final Cairo experience. Back again, died again. Rested up and out for dinner a sort of fast foodish, Egyptian place. once again caved and got a meat dish. Bits o dead lamb, wasn't bad. Discussed being judgmental of people, I really don't think I'm all that judgmental in the end, just don't like people all that much. I'd been thinking about it, and somehow Katie got turned around to the idea of visiting the entemological society museum. Which the guide said was for some strange reason open 6 to 9 pm on alternate days. So we walked up to it, was light, pretty pleasant. Arrived at the building which had two signs one for the Entomological Society museum one for the Sadat school of something or other management. So asked the guards, who spoke no English and were clearly asking me if I spoke Arabic. Maybe I really do look Egyptian. People seem to expect me to speak the language, on the other hand I expected them to understand English, which is no more reasonable (at least I had hope for the word Entemological which isn't even English). But I pointed at the sign and generally carried on like a dumb tourist so they called inside and a guy appeared on a balcony waving us up. Met us on stairs inside and collected us from the guards. For some strange reason I was in a good mood and not in the slightest embarrassed. I was off to see bugs. Katie, apparently unboyed by this joy was taking the role I usually play so well and following reluctantly at a distance, as if to preserve the possibility of claiming not to know me if I were to disgrace myself at some critical moment. Led us upstairs to a room with a bunch of dead birds so knew were indeed in the right place. I hadn't paid attention in the guide if we had to pay but nobody seemed to make any motions that implied it. The guy felt he should clarify "collection. birds. bugs" in case we were misplaced, Likely we didn't look like Entemologists. Another guy with a beard and glasses, who looked quite like one, came out of a door marked insect collection to show us around. A bunch of dusty birds in the first two rooms, couple of pretty ones. A kingfisher I recognized, one of the few birds I can reliably spot. Katie was unimpressed and I wasn't too much so either. A dead bird is better than a mummy but its still a dead thing. A dead bug on the other hand is a thing of joy, surpassed only by a live one. He asked if we wanted to see the insect collection to which we replied yes (well I did). Asked what we did. I said I was in computers but had an amateur interest in insects. After that he was a bit more talkative. I've forgotten his name but he worked at the Ministry of Agriculture, in taxonomy he said. He named the order he specialized in and seemed a little disappointed I didn't recognize it. But clarified it was beetles. He worked here evenings, couple nights a week. Can't imagine you make much as an Egyptian State entomologist. Big room full of drawer cases and flip topped display cases in the center. So he went through the center cases opening those that had something in them (about half didn't) wasn't too big a collection but was neat. Think it was Egyptian insects, though Im not sure. They had a whole case devoted to scarab beetles which were cool, bunch of different varieties. Recognized deaths head moths (which I priorly knew only by reputation) and I think a couple mole crickets among other things which were neat. All that time spent reading nature books as a child not completely wasted. Also had a couple display cases which looked of pretty early vintage, labeled in french, the sort of educational bit you'd expect. Insect pests and the like, truly huge wood borer, parasites of palm trees, carpenter bees and the like. Definitely worth the visit. Tried to give him something as we left for showing us around but he refused, another unique experience. As we left the guards sort of gestured to ask if we'd got what we wanted. Nodded and said thank you. Amazed by swarm of bats that were flying over the place. I'd thought they were birds and it was Katie who pointed it out, neat, the first I've see flying around the city. Back to the hotel. Discussing various things along the way, being brought up to respect scientists, and the technical for its own sake. Deserve some respect you'd think sweating, studying over details so many years, just to be considered next to valueless, smashed by the same vagaries of fate as everyone else. Paid our bill. Sat around a bit. I got a bit antsy and went out to walk around the block. Wandered in a slow circle for a half hour, by some combination of lacking Katie and my bag I attracted almost no attention for once, maybe one hello if that. To bed.

Woke up at 2:15 and more or less looking at watch till 2:45, up dressed and off we went. Guy from hotel caught us a cab, really didn't feel like arguing the issue of if the stupid 2 L cab ticket for the airport should be included or not. Guy stopped to buy bread sticks from a bakery, admit I was closely watching everyone who passed by. It struck me just how completely wrong a set of associations and mental patterns we have for dealing with Egypt, coming from a society where things like prices are very fixed and regulated, but where we expect the possibility (even if remote) of violence at any moment (or maybe that's just me). Ran into someone that knew Nick in the airport. Really cant get away from Rutgers, some friend of Jim Landley (actually girlfriend as I later find). En route to Frankfort now. Almost made it alive through another vacation. Transferred, no problems. A crowded flight had to put bag under my seat, Katie wanted me to ask an attendant to find someplace for it, prefer to suffer, builds character. Sitting next to a guy from Korea, heading to US from business in Germany. Works for Samsung in partnership with Corning which was where he was heading to help shoot a sort of infomercial about the glass museum and Corning "business practice" to be shown on an internal TV system to Samsung workers to tell them about their lovely American partners. He had a big folder relating to the project he felt the need to show me. He's studying nights for an MBA and told me how wonderful it was I was in grad school, asked me if I was interested in working for Corning when I graduated, said that was a long way in the future. Asked me to guess his age, off by about 14 years, reassured me westerners can never date Asian faces, answered defensively that I can never date anyone's face Then he explained to me completely straight faced and with an air of being helpful his theory of how I should prepare for my future. It involved golf, while I was in school with a bit more time on my hands and lucky enough to live in a country where it is cheap I should dedicate myself to honing my golf abilities. This would serve me well, I would go far because I would impress people in business with my physical prowess as well as finding it easy to make friends. I thanked him for the advice. He said I should understand it was only his opinion. As we got off the plane he wished me a good life. One can hope.