Egypt: Luxor Temples (16 December 2020)

I had heard varying stories on the quality of the sleeper train. However, having taken 3rd class sleeping Azeri trains, 20 hour Vietnamese trains and completed a whole host of interrailing, I was ready for what would come my way. Surprisingly enough the train was clean and I had not real complaints...at least until the train started moving.

The train is pricey by Egyptian standards - $80 for the overnight journey. Foreigners in Egypt can only purchase certain trains for their own 'safety', or maybe because sleeper trains are far more expensive and makes easy money for the country. Having said that, the train did pull up with two young police officers in the front wagon wielding AK 47s.

In my bunk was a fellow Brit from Oxford which helped to wile away a number of hours talking about travelling and Central Asia in particular. 

The sleep wasn't great. The train shuddered for all 10 hours. The rattling was incessant. And the driver was blowing the train horn for the entire journey. As we were in the first coach, the horn felt like it was in our room. Nevertheless I managed some sleep and we arrived in Luxor at around 5.30am.

Emerging onto the platform, there was only one taxi tout who was easily brushed off. Maybe Luxor wasn't as bad as I had read. However, upon exiting the station we were met by 10 touts who wouldn't take no for an answer. Me and the other Brit split and went our separate ways. I had an eerie walk to my hotel on the deserted back streets of Luxor, only with Caleche riders (horse drawn carriage), following me for different lengths of time berating me to jump in. I did manage to catch a lovely sunrise over the Nile:

After 20 minutes of walking I made it to the Winter Palace and was able to check in early and get some much needed sleep.

With a couple of hours rest, I set off for breakfast around a ten minute walk away. On this short walk I was hassled by around 10 touts - markets, caleches, taxi, sunset cruises. This would be a common theme in Luxor. Everyone is out for your money, which I assume can only be exacerbated by the lack of tourists currently in Luxor. The most annoying aspect is that they do not leave you alone. A 'la shukran' (no thank you) sufficed in other areas, but not Luxor. 'How did you know my name was la shukran'. You just have to get used to ignoring everyone and have them follow you for a minute before they give up.

I found my breakfast spot and grabbed falafel for breakfast - a great breakfast choice if you've not tried it!

In the restaurant I was sat upstairs by an open window. Even a floor up you do not get any peace. Caleche riders would shout for my attention as I'm eating and berate me for a rider later. I took the picture below not know that I was looking over Luxor Temple, I attempted to find this area next and totally missed the entrance.

As eluded to above, I tried to make my way to Luxor Temple but went the wrong way and missed the entrance entirely. At this point I decided to carry on along the Corniche to the Luxor Museum which may provide some respite from the numerous touts. The Luxor Museum was a sea of tranquillity and calm and made for a perfect break before continuing to the Karnack Temple at the opposite end of Luxor.

Arriving at Karnack, I was yet again only one of a handful of visitors. The car park, usually brimming with taxis, buses and tourists was completely empty.

Karnack Temple was constructed from 2000BC and the current site is absolutely huge. The most incredible part of the temple were the huge columns of the Great Hypostyle Hall. I am reliably informed that there are 134 columns in 16 rows, standing 24 metres in height:

Inside the temple I walked around for a couple of hours taking in the sites and getting some photos for the Gram courtesy of my tripod and Bluetooth shutter button - the joys of solo backpacking. I stopped for a Fanta - a pre-requisite for any hot day and paid a princely sum of 50EGP (around £2.50). Truly outrageous pricing, but the on café in the temple ground has a somewhat captive audience to toy with.

After a good few hours of walking in the sun, I decided that I couldn't face the 40minute walk back to the hotel, so I spoke to the some gaggle of taxi drivers. 30EGP back to the hotel was agreed and the conversation quickly turned to football and in Egypt that means Salah and Liverpool.

As I jumped out of the taxi, the taxi man who was always stationed outside the hotel had a moan at me for not using his taxi. You can't win in Luxor.

At this point the hotel was akin to a tranquil paradise. The Winter Palace was built in 1886 - an imposing yellow Victorian building that is in need of a lick of paint. A delightful 'century-old Royal Gardens' allowed an escape from the ever present Luxor hassle.

Back in my hotel room, I start planning the trip to the West Bank tomorrow and come to the realisation that the moany taxi driver out front could actually be of use to me. I speak to him and negotiate a price for a full day of West Bank site-seeing. The cost was around 600EGP (around £28). After a quick coffee/beer with the chap from the train, I head back to the Luxor Temple for the night visit.

For me, the night time visit with the lights didn't add too much to the wonder. If anything, I'd imagine daytime would have been better as a lot of the temple was in darkness.

After the temple, I headed to Sofra which came very well reviewed online. Again, I was the only person frequenting the restaurant on the evening. The meal was solid.

After eating, I stroll back to the hotel along the local side roads in the hope of avoiding any remaining touts.

Egypt: Memphis, Saqqara and Giza Pyramids (15 December 2020)

 An early start was in order for my day tour to Saqqara, Memphis and Giza.

I had a tour guide and a driver, for $50 for the day - whether this was a good price, I'm not entirely sure. My options were limited due to time so I took the hostel's recommendation. We set out to the first stop of the day to Saqqara. Saqqara is a vast ancient Egyptian burial ground, just outside of Cairo. There are numerous pyramids in the complex, the stepped Pyramid of Djoser is the most famous.

We arrived at the complex which was deserted - there were no other cars in the parking lot and certainly no other tourists. The starting point was the stepped Pyramid of Djoser:

The pyramid was built in 2670 BC and is considered the forerunner of the more famous pyramids found at Giza. The pyramid was awe-inspiring and it still blows my mind that these structures are over 4,000 years old and stood as the tallest man made structures until the Lincoln Cathedral was built in 1311 - some 3,000 years later.

Although we only saw one pyramid, there were many more in the complex. Some resembling pyramids and some looking more like mounds of earth:

The next stop was Memphis - an old capital of Ancient Egypt. We visited an open air museum containing many statues and items recovered in modern day Memphis. The most impressive being the colossus of Rameses II:

This 10m statue is still perfectly detailed and is another mind blowing piece of Egyptian history. It was discovered partially submerged in a river - local thought that the visible part of the statue was a crocodile. The statue is one of a pair, with the other being located in the Egyptian Museum.

At Memphis we had a tea break, and would you believe it - the driver's friend owned the tea place and wanted to show me something out the back. This chap then proceeded to show me numerous ancient Egyptians artefacts and coins that his dad had dug up in the garden. The items looked genuine and I did haggle on a couple of items, ignoring the inevitable antiquity smuggling laws, however the chap was asking for ridiculous prices so we could not make a deal.

Next up was the grand finale, Giza. Giza itself is a city in its own right within Cairo, and the pyramids appear just off the boundary of the city. We arrive and I have to haggle myself a horse or a camel for the afternoon - I was told that I could walk to the pyramids but I would miss the Giza plateau which offered great photographic opportunities. Camel it is. Now, I definitely got bumped on the cost of hiring the camel. I usually pride myself on getting good prices where ever I go, but I'm sure this was a bump. You can't win them all and this experience and the accompanying photos are something I'll remember for the rest of my life, so it was a price worth paying. 

I set off on my camel along with my guide on his horse, a small limpy man who needed a large stone/object in order to jump onto his horse. We took the meandering path to the Giza plateau which was spectacular. 

At the plateau, my guide unexpectedly turned personal Instagram photographer and I ended up with this set of shots:

After my photo shoot concluded, we took the camel further into the pyramid complex. Firstly stopping by a tomb that was 'closed to tourists'. The chap who let me in insisted on taking my photo next to every item within this tomb - so I have dozens of dodgy photos as per the following:

As we were leaving this tomb 'closed to tourists' about 10 foreign tourists also entered. The chap tried hard for baksheesh (tip), he had to settle for 10EGP due to the lack of exclusivity that was promised.

We then meandered to the Great Pyramid and got up close and personal. Although nowadays, the pyramids are blocky in nature back in ancient Egypt there were smoothed over with a white layer of limestone:

The final stop on the camel was the Sphinx. I personally thought the Sphinx was overrated - it was very weathered and barely retained the detail from the original carving:

The final final stop was in the hostel owned by the camel owner. My guide insisted on taking many photos of me on the hostel roof, and to my surprise I wasn't coerced into buying anything.

We ended the day in a little Koshari shop just outside of Giza, and the tour guide, driver and I ate our Kohsari and chatted about life in Egypt. Our guide left us in Giza and refused to take a tip I offered - this could have been down to the kindness of his heart, or knowing Egyptians he probably got a large cut of the camel that I was bumped on.

Back at the hostel I packed my bag for the 7.45pm overnight train to Luxor. Instead of jumping into a cab to the station and paying the inevitable 'tourist' price, I ordered an Uber and was dropped at the busy Ramses station for a bargain 75p. For dinner I had a crispy chicken sandwich (popular in Egypt!) and stocked up on water for the journey ahead.

Egypt: Chaotic Cairo (14 December 2020)

I arrived in Cairo the previous night and got a good night's sleep in before exploring the city of Cairo. I was expecting an empty flight due to Covid, however, it was rammed. It seemed that the wealthy young Egyptians had been spending time in London before heading home - wealthy, as I've never seen such a high concentration of Yeezys and Rolexes on a flight in economy!

I was staying in the Holy Sheet Hostel. There is not much of a hostel scene in Egypt, this place was more like a small guesthouse. My room had three beds for some reason, and there was only a handful of other guests in the hostel. 

The first task was to get some Egyptian Pounds. I left the hostel wearing shorts and a t-shirt and attracted more attention than usual. To be fair, it is mid-winter in Egypt and people must have thought I was crazy. EGP in hand, I walked to the Egyptian Museum - something I was very much looking forward to pre-trip. 

The museum was much like the rest of Cairo - chaotic. There was an overwhelming number of items in the museum, in different nooks and crannies. The bulk of the items are being moved into the newly built Grand Egyptian Museum, due to open in 2021. Therefore, there were pallets, crates and empty spots dotted around the museum. This by no means took away from the awe of the museum and added a certain Egyptian character.

I spent a good few hours wandering around, trying to take everything in.

The Hall of Mummies had already departed for pastures new, however, there were still a couple of mummies to be found. The detail of the body is amazing, considering this mummy died 4,000 year ago.

There was a whole section dedicated to King Tutankhamun. An insignificant ruler of Ancient Egypt, yet famous in modern history as being the only full preserved pharaonic temple found (to date). The image below is Tut's burial chamber found within his tomb in Lyxor. I attempted to take a photo of King Tut's iconic funeral mask, but got shouted at in Egyptian - I seemingly didn't notice all of the no photo signs:

During my wandering, an Egyptian chap asked me for my Facebook details so he could practice his English. I obliged and then received the following message from him: 'I need learn English. What do I do?' A very good question.

After leaving the museum, I decided to take a lunch time stroll across the Nile. On my walk, a friendly young Egyptian struck up conversation. He worked as an artist in the Opera House, he had a friend who lived in Camden, he knew of Yorkshire. He asked where I was going and told me that there was a better route to walk. I followed him down a few streets as he directed me and then the inevitable happened. 'Ahh this is my brother's shop'. What a coincidence. 'Please come inside and have a look'. At this point, I knew the scam was on. I was inside the shop, sat down, Egyptian tea in hand and about 20 papyrus art pieces placed on the floor - presumably to prevent me from leaving. The guy then attempted to talk through each piece, picked one up, wrote some Arabic on it and then presented it to me. 'Take it free of charge, Egyptian hospitality'. I knew full well it wasn't free, I finished my tea and then attempted to leave. 'You can pay what you want, it's my sister's wedding tomorrow. Money is good luck'. At this point I started making my excuses (was far too nice in this situation, I'll blame it on being too fresh in Cairo). He then showed me the prices of each crappy papyrus art (1500EGP!). At this point I was done and certainly wasn't handing over any more. I dropped the nicely wrapped papyrus and left.

About two minutes after I left, an old man started talking to me. He had a friend who lived in Camden, he knew of Yorkshire - hang on second. A carbon copy story, except this chap had a daughter getting married tomorrow and not a sister. I brushed this chap off and set out to find lunch. I ended up at Cafe Riche and had the most bang average lunch of Kofta Kebabs and bread. Unbeknownst to me, this place had some serious history - a historical meeting point of Cairo's intellectuals and even a presidential assassination. Today the only intellectual was me, this place has clearly seen better times.

Having been nearly been scammed for papyrus, and actually scammed for bang average food I head back despondently to the hostel to plan for tomorrow.

Evening time was market time, I was to head to Khan Al-Khalili market. I decided to take the walk, some 20 minutes away, in incognito mode - I wore jeans and a hoodie to try to fit in more. This actually worked. After 20 minutes of walking through local back alleys, past the lighting street and the furniture street I hit a major intersection, a stalemate of traffic. People were crossing the road in every possible direction. The azan was blaring out from at least 3 different mosques. The best word to describe this was chaotic, and somewhat overwhelming. I kept on walking until I came to the point of no return - local Cairenes jowl to jowl, jostling past one another as the streets turned into an unpassable funnel of limbs. The constant coughing all around was also unsettling. 

At this point I headed back. Had Cairo beaten me today? I think it had.

At the hostel, I gathered the energy for one last outing. For dinner I headed to a local Koshari restaurant (the national Egyptian fast food dish). After a swift walk I was at Abou Tarek's:

I was super glad to have made it, rather than taking the easy option of ordering in food or finding an ever reliable western fast food place. About Tarek's only sold Koshari and it was ready in an instant. A mixture of spaghetti, macaroni and lentils topped with a tomato sauce, garlic vinegar, chick peas and crispy onions. It feels like a student meal of throwing a bit of everything into a dish. It was outrageously filling and cost a grand total of 40EGP (around £2). 

Absolutely stuffed, I took a walk over the Nile that I attempted earlier. This time no one kidnapped me into a papyrus store. 

The 'Stans - Almaty...The Final Day (22 August 2019)

I woke up determined to make it to Big Almaty Lake. This time a change in approach. I had contacted a friend back home and set up a Yandex account using their mobile number - I was then able to use the app on my phone to set up a journey to the top of the mountain, with waiting time, and then back down. All this for an estimated $10 - I'm now vindicated that i told the Kazakh yesterday to do one.

The Yandex arrives and I am driven to the top of the mountain in air conditioned comfort. I waited for the exact point on the route that I gave up yesterday. And with hindsight I was glad I did. I was barely 10% up the mountain. It would have taken 6/7 hours to get to the top and the same in return. It turns out that stopping and regrouping is sometimes the best strategy.

We reached the top of the Big Almaty Lake and my gosh it was worth it.

Having left the hostel early to get to the Lake, I had it for the most part to myself. With coffee in hand, from a little coffee van at the top, I explored the Lake. Passing the occasional Kazakh selfie hunter.

With my Yandex still waiting at the top, I clambered back to the top of the hill and took one last look at the Lake, breathing it all in. I can't explain just how turquoise the water was, the pictures only paint 50% of the scenery.

We arrived back at the Hostel. I immediately packed my bag, checked out and had another Yandex waiting to take me to my five star accommodation for my final night. Today was turning into a good day.

I checked in at the Reunion Park Hotel and immediately made use of the large bed and luxurious shower - it at least felt luxurious after a month of hostels. I ventured out and headed to Panilov Park, relatively nearby, to see the Ascension Cathedral.

The rest of the day was spent wandering the leafy streets of Almaty, enjoy the food and reminiscing on my time in Central Asia. Whenever I told anyone that I was visiting the 'Stans, I would always get the question 'why would you want to go there?'. I wanted an adventure and somewhere off the beaten track, an area that would surprise me. And I got everything I was searching for.

Turkmenistan was one of the strangest yet most enthralling places I have been. Darvaza was out of this world and Ashgabat was eerily beautiful. Uzbekistan was culturally and historically fascinating, from Khiva to Bukhara to Samarkand. Tajikistan was beautiful, glimpsing into Afghanistan on a five day road trip along the Pamir Highway. Kyrgyzstan was green and scenic. Kazakhstan was testing but ultimately rewarding - Big Almaty Lake was one of the most beautiful natural scenes that I have ever witnessed.

Hopefully this collection of thoughts and images will inspire at least one person to take a gamble on the 'Stans.

The 'Stans - Almaty (21 August 2019)

A new day, and surely this day can only get better right? Wrong.

I woke up early, keen to leave the hostel but also keen to fit a few things into my last days in Central Asia. Today's trip was to the Big Almaty Lake, and this was 'easily' accessible by public transport.

The bus stop to the Lake was a good 10km from the hostel, so I thought ahead and asked a girl in the hostel to book me a Yandex to take me to the bus stop. I was feeling quite smug at this point, almaty wouldn't beat me.

I was dropped off near the bus stop and I found the correct one easily enough. This bus was heaving. A good sign I was going in the right direction. All I had to do was stay on the bus until the final stop. Easy.

The bus got quieter and quieter, but I held my ground to the final stop. At this point I read there would be abundant taxis and buses to take me to the top. But there was nothing.I saw that everyone who left the bus had started walking up the hill, so I decided to follow.

I was aware that the walk to the top was hard and would take a couple of hours, but there were a couple of larger ladies in front of me also walking. How hard could it be. But everyone ahead of me started turning off in different directions. Not sure where they were going, I kept to the road which I assumed would take me to the top.

After an hour of walking, in 40 degree heat, with no end in sight and no signs to even indicate I was on the right road, I started hitching a rider. About 20 cars drove past me and not one stopped. Eventually, a beat up old car stopped and the chap said he could take me up. We bartered using his dusty windows as a canvas. He was offering to take me up for the equivalent of $50. This was an outrageous price and I told him exactly where he could go. I was livid. But I thought better than to further antagonise the already annoyed Kazakh driver.

I picked up a boulder and smashed it on the floor. At this point I realised I had failed to get to Almaty Lake and I turned around for the long depressing walk back to the bus stop. I boarded the bus and we headed back to the very start of the journey. Except this time I had no Yandex to take me back to the hostel.

I spent the rest of the day navigating back the 10km to the hostel, via a bars, coffee shops and restaurants.

The 'Stans - Bishkek to Almaty (20 August 2019)

I found the Almaty marshrutka far quicker than the Karakol marshrutka ordeal and prepared myself for the long journey ahead. 

Another morning, another journey to Bishkek bus station. This time with a couple of Dutch backpacker in tow. They jumped in my cab and we discussed our plans for the day. They were heading to Karakol, I was heading to Kazakshtan. I gave as many times as I could from my very brief, short spell in Karakol.

Not my image, but I had to include it. These are the marshrutkas in Central Asia. All white Mercedes vans with the locations written in Cyrillic. Two reasons why it can be hard to locate the van you need. 

After not too long we arrive at the Kyrgyz - Kazakh border. The van stops and everyone starts lumbering out of the van. We walk along the narrow pavement into the Kygyz side of the border. There are a number of rows to queue in, but before the guard rails its a bundle of Central Asian vying for space. 

A woman tried to walk through the crowds and a large shouting match begins in front of me. I wouldn't want to mess with the lady that called her out. This is all reminiscent of the Uzbek - Tajik border.

After I get my passport stamped on the Kyrgyz side, I walk to the Kazakh side and everything is much calmer and spacious. There are no issues and groups congregate outside in the petrol station, all waiting for their vans to clear customs.

Kazakhstan already feels different. Much more European and clearly far more affluent. Though I am judging this from only the petrol station forecourt I am currently standing in. The van arrives and we jump on heading to Almaty. The journey to Almaty is uneventful, travelling across motorways and vast open steppes. 

We finally arrive in Almaty, and unbeknown to me, where everything would start to go wrong. At this point I am starving and Maps.Me shows a burger king a one kilometer walk from the bus station. This is ideal. I can have my first western food for nearly four weeks and I can order a Yandex for the 7km journey to my hostel.

I make the walk to Burger King in the 40 degree afternoon heat, with my heavy rucksack on for good measure. I make it to Burger King, get fed and attempt to use the Wi-Fi - without Wi-Fi I have no Yandex to get me home. Alas, you need a Kazakh number to log into the Wi-Fi. Maps.Me (offline map remember), tells me that there is a shopping mall another 700 metres from the Burger King. Perfect. Every mall has Wi-Fi or at least a computer to use.

Once in the mall I spot a Gloria Jeans coffee shop. I check the open networks and there it is, Gloria Jeans Wi-Fi. I make my order and ask for the code, I'm sweating buckets now and probably bright pink too, the Kazakh barrister tole me that it was for employees only. I can't charm her into letting me use it, but she does suggest a couple of other places to try.

At this point, I turn my phone off and back on again. Something that I hadn't done for months probably. Disaster. The phone doesn't turn back on. It's totally and utterly dead. I take out my iPad, prior to leaving the UK I also downloaded Maps.Me onto it. Disaster again. I hadn't downloaded the Kazakh map so it was useless.

My situation was as follows: no phone, no wi-fi, no address for my hostel, no way of contacting the hostel and no idea of even the rough location of the hostel.

After trying various shops for Wi-Fi and having no luck. I head back to the bus station. I remembered someone offering a taxi when I disembarked the bus. So I walk the nearly 2km back to the bus station in the 40 degree heat and ask around for a taxi as the bus station. I'm almost totally ignored and someones just points to the road.

In Kazakhstan there are no official taxis. If you want a ride you stand by the side of the road, wait for a local to pull over and negotiate a ride if you happen to be going the same way. I stood at the road and stopped a couple of cars and uttered 'Almaty Backpackers'. Of course no one had a clue what I was saying or where this hostel was. It would be like someone stopping a random car in London and saying 'London backpackers'. I gave up on this idea and walked.

I just walked away from the bus station and into what looked like more of a city centre. Almaty is a huge city. Along the way I stop at every bar, restaurant and everything in between asking for Wi-Fi. There is a real lack of Wi-Fi in Almaty. What should have been the easiest and most European city to navigate was fast turning into a nightmate.

I walked alongside a park for a while and saw a bench. I looked around and thought to myself, 'I could sleep here'. That was plan B, but luckily it was still only 3 or 4pm which meant I still had a good few hours before desperation kicked in. My next plan was just to find any hotel and stay there. But there were no hotels at all.

I was on double figures of cafes and restaurants that I had entered. I saw another called 'Cappuccino'. I enjoy a cappuccino, so why not give it a try. I walked in, dumped my bag and asked for Wi-Fi. 'Da', or 'yes' in Russian. I didn't get my hopes up. The waiter logged me in, bought me a 2 litre bottle of water and a coffee. Success. Possibly the fastest Wi-Fi I've had throughout the 'Stans.

I log onto Yandex and try to order a cab. Disaster yet again. You need a phone number, any phone number, to order a taxi. At this point the waiter was helping me to translate the Russian Yandex site and gallantly offered to order me a Yandex using his app. What a hero.

The taxi arrived and off we went. The Yandex driver happened to be a lecturer at Almaty University. It was closed for the summer break so he was making a bit of extra money on the side. He spoke great English. We drove for 20 minutes, chatting about Kazakhstan, until he told me we were at the destination. We weren't.

At this point, close to giving up. My luck finally turned. The driver cancelled the trip and promised to get me to my location. He googled the hostel, found the actual address and off we set. The driver gave me lots of tips on Almaty and even gave me his number if I needed anything during my stay. This was the famous Central Asian hospitality that I had heard about.

I had finally made it to the hostel. I was delighted, yet also majorly annoyed, tired, dehydrated and hungry. 

To make matter worse the hostel was pretty sub-standard. It was a house, divided up into rooms. They had tried to run with the homely feel, but it felt more dumpy and just a little bit weird. In my room were two Kazakh kids (probably early 20's) who had been living in the hostel for a year whilst working in Almaty. They were nice enough, but not the vibe I had been looking for. And there was only one shower for over 10 people.

Not in the mood to venture too far away from the hostel after the ordeal of getting here, I managed to find a food market and took down two shwarmas. Finally I was in Almaty.

The 'Stans - Karakol to Bishkek (19 August 2019)

Today was a day of travel. I set out to Karakol bus station and found a seat in a Marshrutka to Bishkek. This bus seemed to take forever, around 6 hours in total.

Arriving back into Bishkek I had that warm feeling of returning somewhere that you know. No nasty surprises, no caution of being ripped off. Just stepping out into the fine city of Bishkek, walking like a local. Something you take for granted when you've been on the road for many weeks.

I walked back up to the Freelander Hostel, checked in for my final night in Bishkek in preparation for tomorrow's journey to Almaty, Kazakhstan.