From tonysounds@yahoo.com Wed Dec 24 18:57:18 2003
Subject:Egypt Road notes Pt 2

Got up nice and early to hit the Pyramids this morning. Had a quick breakfast, and then went outside to catch our shuttle. And what is that over in the corner? Hey look! It's our equipment!!! Turns out even after adjusting my monetary faux pas with the porters that the "safe and secure" place for our 25 pieces of gear is in fact the front of the hotel; just a nice pile of equipment in the corner of the front of the building. Oh-Kay! Should have left the tip at 50cents. Anyway, we pile into our shuttle and it's off to the pyramids. Or not. We get pretty close, then our driver turns down some corridor and gets out of the van and disappears. After ten minutes, he's still gone. Turns out this is a ploy (worked out with shopkeepers in this area) to get us out of the van and windowshopping out of pure boredom. But Dan the Man starts honking the horn of the van loud and long and the driver comes bounding out of a friend's shop. "What is wrong?" he asks. Dan emphatically lets
him know we are not interested in shopping for perfume and expect to be taken to the pyramids now. "But they do not open for another hour my friend" is the reply. "Bullshit!!!! You lie to me...either take us there now, or we get out and walk; it's not far and you haven't been paid." Needless to say, said driver gets his butt back in the vehicle and drives us the last 4 minutes to the Pyramids, which (hey, guess what?) are open! After given a destination and time to meet us, the driver pulls off, and we go to the pyramids. You've all seen pictures. Forget them. There are no words to describe them, there are no pictures that do them justice. These immense manmade (or aliens?) structures, over 5000 years old, just defy the imagination. Crawing inside one of the pyramids, you end up in an an antechamber that's like 30degrees warmer and much more humid than the climate outside, probably because of all the people inside; and because of the overcrowding, you just want out. We
walk around the pyramids (there are 9 of them there) and the Sphinx all day, just simply awestruck. A lot of the mystique of this is missing for me even though I've wanted to come here since I could start to read, simply because of all the people, all the tour busses, all the huckstering and pestering of people shoving plastic pyramids in your hand "for our luck my friend, how about $3?"...it's kind of a fleamarket Disneyland. But once you are able to tune that crap out and just immerse yourself, you are just dumbstruck by the sheer beauty and magnificence of this place. A few of us get some camels and trek out to the desert where it's more peaceful even though our "guides" are constantly on some rambling monologue about money and luck and gifting with our "hearts." After spending the morning here, we move on to the Eqyptian Museum, aka "The House of Death." You have never seen such a museum. None of the exhibits are off limits, you can put your hands on just about everything,
except certain items which are in danger of crumbling or theft, and those are encased in glass which you can touch. But most of the statues and burial crypts are just out in the open for you to touch, kiss, lean on, whatever. You could literally spend a week in this museum and not see everything, and it's all about Egyptian death culture. Freeking fascinating! We're all pretty wiped out, but I have it in my head that I want to go back to the Pyramids for the night time show, where they use lasers and lights on the pyramids themselves to give the history. We go back to the hotel, then Al and I head back to the pyramids (after a 45 minute nap and battery charge) for the nighttime show. The night show was wonderfully cheesy...a little outdated, but a very good combination of cheesiness, history and presentation. Afterwards, Al and I return to the bazaar for a little late night shopping. En route to the hotel, our driver decides he doesn't want to get stuck in traffic and tries
to drive through a throng of people. A policeman slams the top of his hood and lets people go. Our driver actually starts yelling at the policeman for not letting him through! Anyway, the next day we have a 5 hour ride to Sinai's North Camp. We drive over the Suez Canal which was intense. Armed guards every mile or so, and no photos allowed. The drive through the desert was beautiful...dunes blown by the winds into a myriad of shapes, lone trekkers in the sand, the road sometimes washed out by sand....and for the first time in my life I saw a snow plow clearing the road in the desert...clearing it of sand naturally! Our show at North Camp was hosted by the Candians and their bar. It was a fun party, and those guys took great care of us. The people at the camp seemed to have a fabulous time, and made us feel really welcome. The next day we had an 8 hour drive to South Camp (the sand had washed out part of the road and we had to backtrack a bit). We drove along 300 miles of
Israeli border (kind of eerie actually). Thick loops of barbed wire secure the border, with obvious armed guards (and some not so obvious) and towers...the ONLY things you're seeing in this vast desert. And yet periodically, you'd see a little village of a few people, or a lone tracker or two in the sand, but other than that, it was this beautiful yet desolate place. Eventually the sand gave way to great mountains. The scenery was intense but eventually it would get monotonous. We finally arrive at South Camp. Turns out about 80% of South Camp's population is from Iowa!!! Needless to say, that means these guys know how to party too! After the long busride, we get settled in our rooms. But no TV! I decide to get out and explore a little bit, and we find out how to get a taxi and go to town and what it would cost, etc. The taxi should cost about ten Egyptian pounds. I walk to the gates of the base, and then hit the road. I thought I saw a movie theatre coming into the
base, so when a taxi comes to get me, I tell him that's where I want to go, and if the movies are lame or at bad times that he can take me to Sharm El Sheik (the nearby city/resort). And we agree that ten pounds is our starting point. Well, we go about a 1/2mile down the road to where I thought I saw the theatre, but he zooms right past it telling me "this is my job my friend, the cinema is not there" and takes me further down the road to a dark, deserted, soon-to-be shopping mall, pulls into the "drive" and begins four-wheeling in this little beat to death Fiat. I should mention at this point that his brother is in the front seat, and when I mumble "this aint happening", he grins and says something in Pharoanic to his brother. The driver assures me that this is the movie theatre, but maybe this road isn't the best and proceeds to back up. He takes an alternate route in and I'm telling you, this "mall" is totally dark, and there's no one here. I'm wondering if this is his idea
of a joke, or I'm going to be some blip in the local newspaper. He convinces me that there is indeed a cinema down there, in the basement, and I'm ready to tell this guy to get back on the road. But then he shows me some guy coming up the steps, and I decide to go to the stairs, and sure enough there is a theatre down there. The proprietor speaks as much English as I do Egyptian, but looking at the movie poster it would seem that Kangaroo Jack is playing. So I thank him, and we return to our cab, and the driver says he knows where there is a theatre in Sharm El Sheik, but I tell him I want to go where I thought I saw a theatre. "But there is no cinema there, this is my job!" I tell him its okay, that whatever it is, I want to see it. Turns out it's a closed Planet Hollywood (!!!), and off we go to Sharm El Sheik. 3 minutes later he pulls into this restaurant. "Uh, what are we doing here?" I ask. "This food is very good, very .... very....RITZY!" he exclaims. "You will like
it!" "Uh, great, but where is the theatre?" "Dont worry about the cinema, the food here is ritzy and good, and you will like it" he says, and then gets out of the cab and starts to open my door. I'm thinking, "wtf?" And I tell him, "Dude, I'm not hungry, I want to go to the cinema, let's go!" "But my friend, the food here is good, let's eat!" "Dude, we go to the cinema, NOW." "You want to go to the cinema now??" he asks, and an emphatic "yes" is the reply. He sadly gets back in the cab (his brother has been quiet this whole time) and pulls back into traffic. About 30 seconds later, a foul ozone smell permeats the car, and smoke starts wafting in from the vents. The 2 of them start talking excitedly, and as the radio turns off (even though its nighttime, the lights have been off the entire time) the brother jumps out of the cab, nearly knocking 2 pedestrians over with the opening door. The cab eventually coasts to a stop (the brakes are powered apparently) and the driver
leaps out. In fact, I leap out as well, thinking I'm going to get another cab. "Where are you going, there is no problem my friend!" "Well, the smoke and stink has lead me to think there is a problem, so I was going to...." "No problem, just 2 wires touching, no problem!" "Uh, well, 2 wires touching, smoke and stink, and no power, yes, there IS a problem!" "No, see?" and he starts the cab up. They shut the hood, and like an idiot, I get back in. We go about ten feet and it dies and stinks and starts smoking again. Well, this time I really am getting another cab. And as he tells me he'll find me another cab, a van pulls up. The driver of the van and he start talking and he tells me "see? I have found you another cab, and he will take you where you want to go." Cool, right? So I reach into my pocket to give him some money. I ask, "How much?" And he says, for the 2 cabs, one hundred pounds." I look at him like he has just landed from another planet, and tell him in no
uncertain terms, "No F-n Way!" He says, "no, for my cab and his cab,it's good my friend." Uh, no, it's not. This is a 15pound ride at best, smoke and stink and fire notwithstanding. He starts arguing with me about it, and I tell him I'll find my own cab. The van guy pulls off, and my driver starts arguing with me, "then sixty pounds for my cab!" And I explain to him that it's just not going to happen, and he then points a police station about a 100 yards away. I agree that's a great idea. Now he's perplexed. As we get close, he changes his mind..."Fifty pounds!" "Nope, let's keep going." We get to the door, and then he rushes in in front of me and starts smiling and greeting everyone and shaking their hand....it looks like he knows everyone in here. Maybe not such a good move on my part huh? He grabs a detective looking guy and tells him his story in their language and the guys looks at me while he's listening. He makes no move, and then knocks on a door. A minute
later a voice from behind the door tells us both to come in. I sit at the end of the desk of what appears to be the chief of detectives, and Latka, or whoever he is, sits across from him. The "chief" speaks to him and the driver goes into his Egyptian monologue, and the chief nods. After a minute or two he looks at me and asks me to tell my story. So, I recount this tale of the cabbie driving to the mystery mall, then to where I wanted to go in the first place, then taking me across town to a restaurant I had no interest in going to, then his car's electrical fires. And then when I get to the 100pound part he starts getting really dark in the face, and when I finished, he turns to Latka and starts verbally abusing this guy...in Egyptian. After a couple minutes of the two of them kind of arguing, the chief turns to me and says, "this is crazy, you shouldn't be here", and I tell him I agree, and that I don't want to waste his time, but a hundred pounds was not only robbery, but
since I came from the base, everyone there had already told me what it would cost, and I'm not some dumb tourist. He agrees and says that if I wanted to be fair, I should give this guy 20pounds for the effort. I reach into my pocket for the money, and look him in the eye and thank him for his wisdom and his time, shake his hand, and tell him that I am now going for another cab. Chief then turns back to Latka and starts screaming at him again. By the time I finally get another cab, Latka has now returned to his smouldering engine and when the cab stops for me, he screams something in Egyptian. The driver and his front seat companion look at me as I get in, and I tell them in English that that guy is still pissed that his cab is on fire and I wont pay him if he can't take me anywhere, and they both burst out laughing. Needless to say, by this time the movies are a foregone conclusion and I go back to the base. The next day we set up for our show at "Club O'Deuce", an outdoor
theatre with the Red Sea as its backdrop (we're literally on the shore of it) and coliseum style seating built into the rock. It sounds great, looks great, and the crowd was fantastic and very enthusiastic...the fact that you can bring your own liquor contributes greatly! The show was a blast, and we were presented with a plaque commemorating our show there and then we packed up our gear. The next day was clear of any schedule until our midnite departure, so Rez, Rich, Magoo, Himebaugh and I went down to the resort to crash their pool and bar. Enjoying the scenery and the booze and the sun was a great way to kill an afternoon, and after 4 rum fueled concoctions Island Tony made a little appearance. We had spied a go-kart track earlier on our visit and the karts had gotten a thumbs-up from a couple guys on base. Ritch, Mike H and I took a cab and slapped down our money. First we had to get suited up. These guys take their go-karting seriously! After slipping into our race
suits/Gas City uniforms, we then went to the "briefing room" where we were explained the virtues of gas/brake pedal driving as well as the "no bumping" policy. Then it was off to get our helmets and head socks and fill out the paperwork for the electronic scoreboard. Due to a verbal miscommunication I was called Mr. Sony and it stuck. We got ten laps for our time trials, and after receiving the top 3 pole positions, we joined 3 other racers on the track for the real race. Oh yeah, during my drunken time trial laps, it was discovered by officials that I was only driving with one hand while holding my "Kart Kam" with the other, and they confiscated my camera! I then cajoled the official into filming the race for me. The Christmas Tree lit up, and when the green light hit, off we went. Right out of the gate, halfway through hairpin turn one, a driver of mysterious extraction rammed my cart off the track, causing me to lose precious time. And since that particular official was
busy learning how to use my camera, my cart was left marooned off the track for about half a minute until I climbed out and pushed it back onto the track. By the time I got my seatbelt refastened, he let me know I must under no circumstances get out of my vehicle. Yeah, RIGHT!!!!! I slam the accelerator and I see the culprit, and decide to enact my own brand of revenge....as he was rounding another turn I realize I can cut him off if I veer off the track and cut through a sand dune, which I then do. (I now realize why drinking and driving is a bad thing!) HA!!! I cut him off! And the race is back on! Ten laps later the race is over and Himebaugh comes in first, Little Dickey Stitzel comes in second, and I come in third! Wooohoooo! It was a thrill to see my name, Mr. Sony!, in 3rd place, yet I somberly wondered what would have happened had I not been run off the track. We stick around to watch the next race, which featured drivers wholly incapable of keeping their carts
on the track it seems, and we get out of our race gear and catch a cab back to the base. A few loads of laundry later, and our midnight ride to the airport begins. We arrive at our hotel in Cairo at 6:30 am and we all go to our rooms and crash. Our flight to Frankfort, Germany isn't until 2am, and I wake up around 11am, shower, and head back to the pyramids. This time I pack my Walkman and my earphones, hire a guide and a horse, and the 3 of us (and the 2 horses) head off into the desert. By 4pm the pyramids close and become totally empty. THIS is what I imagined it would be like at the Pyramids: just me (and 2 others) and the sand and the pyramids, a sunset...just a stunning view of the Sphinx and nobody around to destroy it. No sound, no tourists, no busses, no plastic tourist junk, none of that; just my horse, my thoughts, the music in my head and the eerie calm and solitude of the desert and these immense, testaments to man's ingenuity and his basic 'blink of an eye'
existence on this earth, wind raising gusts of sand from the ground, swirling it into abstract patterns. At one point, a rainbow emerged from behind the smaller pyramid (honest!), and I watched the sun set behind them. Eventually we make the trek back to where I started. After paying my dues, I get in a cab and get caught in a horrible traffic jam trying to get back to the hotel. It turns out that the rainbow I saw was a result of an ice storm in downtown Cairo, and the water has now slowed traffic in pockets to a standstill. 90 minutes later I make it back to the hotel, shower, and join the guys in the casino for a little blackjack, then pack. We get picked up at 11pm, go to the airport, unload our gear to the ticket desk, and then are basically hounded by some baggage handler for about 30 minutes for a handout, not that he did anything. And he would just keep reappearing every 5 minutes or so, "ok, so we are finished here?" with this ridiculous smile on his face, and his
hand out! I turn to him, and say "Yes! We are DEFINITELY done here!" But he thinks I'm just kind of stupid, so he exaggerates the hand gesture, like I haven't figured out what he's trying to convey! "Yes, we are done! Thank you!" And we're kind of snickering at this point. But damned if he doesn't reappear again with the same tactic. And this guy didn't do a darned thing! Finally, he gets the idea he's not getting a tip, and off he goes. We land in Frankfurt for a 2 hour layover and then catch our flight home. We land in Chicago as planned (a bonus!), finally get through customs 90 minutes later, and load the truck, and catch our rides home. But to end the trip appropriately, I get the cabbie who doesn't believe in getting out of his cab to help load the luggage, and as a result, he gets Mr. Pink who doesn't believe in tipping. It was an incredible trip, a journey of Chaucer-esque proportions, and an experience I'll never forget (and in the case of Cairo, a trip I
yearned for since I was able to read) for as long as I live. But damn, is it good to be home!!!!

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