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9/19/1999
The Valley of the Kings and Queens, or "Hey you, the one with the flash!"
We were awakened at 4-fucking-45 in the morning. We scraped our scurvy asses out of bed, cleaned up, and went to breakfast. We got on the bus and headed out into the desert. Then the sun came up. After doing the "over the river and through the woods" thing, we arrived at the Valley of the Kings.

The site is noticeably more modern that the other sites we have visited. The walkways, artificial lighting, and the supporting facilities are all modern. There are a number of tombs at the site. Our ticket permitted us to tour any three. Our guide took us through the tomb of Ramses VI. Our camera ticket allowed us to photograph one tomb, and this was it. It was spectacular. The images on the walls were very clear and colorful. It was somewhat crowded, and pretty hot. I was reminded, once again, of why everyone says that the French are so rude; they are. While our group was in the burial chamber, those surrendering bastards started plowing their way in front of us. One day someone must teach them the law of physics that states that two particles may not occupy the same space at the same time (hence two groups may not occupy the same burial chamber at the same time). The excitement for today was actually not my fault. They are very strict about taking flash pictures in the tombs. Our comrade, Mike, whipped out his camera, and flashed a pic in the burial chamber.

Rebuttal from the guilty one (actually, totally innocent, but guilt by association-thank you 'Sett') :
Please allow me to clarify this social faux pas. I, never one to violate cultural mores, was more than happy to NOT take pictures, but my wife as well as Mrs. Steff incorrectly informed me that the flash would not go off unless I turned it on, allowed it to warm up, yadda, yadda, yadda. I mistakenly believed them it took the damn picture. The tomb Gestapo have had their eyes on me because of my association with the evil 'Sett' and quickly pounced on me. After I was reprimanded and sent to the principal's office (pharaoh Skinner) the camera was returned to me, but I think they put a curse on our children and our next three generations.

Thank you Michael; on with the story...

The surrenderer's tour guide freaked out, and confiscated his camera. Mikey had to stay until after the guide finished his spiel to the wimps, then he was in trouble. According to the post-trial report, the guide was actually very appropriate, and even returned his camera. Mike took my "trouble-maker of the day" label away (whew!), and got three days in detention. After a hearty chuckle, the group split up. We meandered to the tomb of Tuthmosis III. We got in our exercise for the day, as we traipsed up the 150 steps to the tomb entrance, then down the long steep ramps inside. With every step down it got hotter and hotter. Between the heat and the steps, by the time we got to the bottom, we had each taken off about 10 pounds. The tomb was most impressive, as was that of Ramses I. Typical in color and content. Again, the French had a strong presence, in both numbers and scent.

Once our tour of the tombs was complete, we retreated to a visitor's center of sorts, where we relaxed and waited for our traveling companions. On our way out, we passed through another gauntlet of Egyptian merchants, employing the clutch and grab tactics typically employed by the Philadelphia Flyers. As we approached the bus, I got in a heated haggle with a 12 year old kid, over a number of beaded necklaces. I was doing well, the bout was nearing an end, when Chris chimed in with a totally un-called-for bid that the kid jumped on. Her tight-wad skills need improvement. Our next stop was the Valley of the Queens.

The tombs in the Valley of the qUEENS (damn caps lock) were not as spectacular as the Valley of the Kings, as well they shouldn't be ;). The content of the images had a distinctively female flavor. Many fewer war scenes; many more love and marriage type scenes. As usual, I was very impressed with the workmanship of 3000+ years ago, and the state in which they were preserved.

Next on our agenda was the Temple of Hatchepsut. My first impression was "hot". The temple stands embedded in the side of a cliff, out in the middle of the desert. The heat was oppressive. The funerary temple was impressive, as all of them are. They were doing a lot of restoration work around the site, so there were sections that were cat-walked, roped off, and workman encouraging you to photograph them (for a price, as usual).

Fulfilling our previous night's stone-working friend's prophecy, we stopped at the Alabaster Fabrik (he even picked the correct store name; uncanny). As he predicted, the prices at the store were significantly higher than what we paid for essentially the same merchandise. While our bench-mark item was not marked up nearly as high as he had suggested it would be, the difference was still considerable. I'm still comfortable with the purchases we made. This isn't too say that the place was a total rip-off. By American standards, the prices were still dirt-cheap; and some great deals were made by various members of our group.

The visit started with a tour of a genuine Egyptian household, in which the shopkeeper/stoneworker lived. Call me a spoiled American, but I have to say, it was, um, well, less than sanitary. It is amazing that people live this way. We only got to see the bottom level, so we didn't get to see the sleeping quarters (which I can only pray was in better condition), but we did see the general living area. They were raising pigeons one room away from the kitchen. In typical pigeon fashion, they had no discretion when it came to littering the floor with shit. In the kitchen, the wife was baking bread. Personally, I would question eating anything coming from that kitchen.

The house was built over an unfinished tomb. It is believed that construction of the tomb was halted due to the rockiness of the area. The tomb was being treated as a basement, used or storage and so forth. It smelled like an out-house. This was our first authentic taste of a third-world country. It was very West Virginia like.

Following the house tour, we were treated to a demonstration of fabrication of alabaster products using tools and methods probably not too unlike those used by the ancient Egyptians. It was brief but interesting. I was interested to see that the shopkeeper, the man living in these primitive conditions, was wearing what looked like a truly space-age wrist-watch. It made me wonder if the tour was some sort of facade created for our benefit. It doesn't really make sense to me that this would be true, but the possibility exists.

On the way out of the place, we were again accosted by local merchants selling their wares. I was approached (charged?) by yet another kid, this one about 14, insisting that I need one of his green alabaster cats for LE 20. I disagreed, and continued into the bus. He was very insistent, and followed me along the outside of the bus. We continued to haggle through the bus window. Anyone not knowing what was going on would have thought we were on the floor of the NYSE. After a long, silent, yet very heated haggling exchange, we came to agree on a price of LE 5. I took two. I decided that haggling is best when done with children, and through the glass of an air-conditioned tour bus window.

We proceeded to our next stop, the Colossi of Memnon. This is one of the more mundane stops on the Egyptian tour. There are two large statues that formerly framed the entrance to a temple. The temple was totally destroyed in a flood. The statues were left heavily damaged but still standing. An interesting tid-bit: the one statue used to make a weeping noise when the morning winds blew through cracks in it's body. The Romans felt it necessary to fix-up this statue that channeled the Gods, and of course, to my dismay, it no longer sings. Bloody Romans.

With our touring day done, and the temperature reaching "London Broil", we returned to the ship for some lounging. Before boarding, we bolted for the drink dude's stand (the one from last night) for some ultra-cheap beverages. It's a shame he didn't sell beer. Anyway, we were followed by a number of people whom we had clued in to the bargain prices.

Once on board, we set sail and went to lunch, with our el cheapo drinks in tow. Unbenounced to us, the Oberoi ship had implemented monopolistic policies governing the source of beverages consumed in the dining room. Namely, if you didn't buy it there, you ain't drinking it. Needless to say we felt like Netscape fighting Microsoft, and just as they did, we crumbled into compliance.

After lunch, Chris went back to the room to nap. Alicia, Mike, and I retired to the bar for some much-needed beers and air conditioning. We lounged there for hours, watching the scenery flow by, discussing everything from bar crawls to ADD to our thoughts on natural selection. It is truly uncanny how much Mike and I have in common. It seems like were are long-lost bothers or something; very similar upbringings, senses of humor, ADD, outlooks on life, religion, etc. If he were a woman I would have to hit on him. What's spooky is that he had just married a woman who is like Chris' long lost sister. Again, similar upbringings, etc. Anyway, this afternoon forged what promises to be a very long lasting friendship; one that we will maintain for years after the end of this tour.

After some time, we were rejoined by Chris. We noticed that we were approaching a set of locks. We raced upstairs to check it out. Just to show you the tenacity of the 12 YEAR (damn caps lock) old Egyptian kid, as we approached the locks, we were forced to slow down and wait for a ship ahead of us. Two kids rowed out to our boat from shore, bringing us wares for sale. We were standing on the top deck, about 20 feet above the water line. In an effort to impress us with the quality of the product (I'm not sure what it was, some cotton product), he wound up and through the item way up to us. And if any one of our fellow passengers had had he decency to even try to catch it, the kid wouldn't have had to go chasing down the river after it.

We made it through the locks, and continued down the river. After a short time, we encountered a very interesting draw bridge. Unlike any other I have ever seen, it swings out of the way. It was very cool. As we passed through it, we got to watch the changing of the guard. Our armed party jumped ashore; our replacement armed party jumped aboard. The boat never stopped. It was neat. Following the excitement, we went below decks to prepare for dinner and our Galabiyya party.

Dinner saw the majority of our group dressed in native attire. It was interesting to see the choices people had made and the prices they had paid for them. After dinner we went into the bar area for our party. The party was rather trite, as expected, but it was a lot of fun. In typical cruise fashion, we played a number of games that were designed to entertain the many by embarrassing the few.

We started off with a rather tame game, in which the group danced while the music played, then, when the music stopped, we quickly formed groups of the size specified by the MC (aka the boat manager). Those who are left out of a group must sit. The game ends when two people are left standing. There were trinket prizes for the winners. Some stranger from another group won the game.

The next game had the women walking around in a circle around a circle of spoons. When the music stops, every grabs a spoon. The caveat is that there is one fewer spoons than women. The one left without a spoon sits. Interestingly enough, Chris and Alicia were the two left standing. Alicia came out the winner.

The next game pitted yours truly against Mike, Jim, and someone from the other group. This contest is where the real embarrassment begins. They hiked out Galabiyyas up, and tied a string around our waist. At the end of the string hung a potato. They placed another potato on the floor at our feet. The objective is to use the dangling potato, in a billiard-like fashion, to propel the other potato across the floor. I'm not sure if it was raw talent, luck of the potato draw, or just a lack of modesty, but I won the race by a long-shot. My efforts were rewarded with an Egyptian papyrus.

The next game involved four couples; the honeymoon and anniversary couples (us, Mike and Alicia (the honeymooners), Hank and Norma, and some couple from the other group). Each couple stands facing each other. They place an apple between your foreheads. You have to keep it there. They start the music, and you dance; still keeping the apple in place. If you make it that far, they pick up the pace. If you survive that, they make you let go of each other. Chrissie and I won this one too. I think it was due to superior communication and a better algorithm. Anyway, we were treated to more trinkets.

I finally got to sit down and swill my beer. The games continued. The next game involved four couples again. This time, the women were blind-folded, and the men sat in chairs. The women had to identify their mates by groping the knees of each man. Of course, they were moving guys around, substituting other men and women in place of the men, just to make it totally unfair. Interestingly, there was still a %50 success factor.

That was the end of the games. Most people went to bed almost immediately. Others hung around a while longer. I was forced to leave when they insisted on playing three Kenny Rogers tunes in a row, including my favorite, Wind Beneath My Wings; I thought I was gonna ralph. We made a hasty retreat to our cabin and went to bed.
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