Blessed Be The Yellow Datsun Ute

After the anarchic introduction to Egypt we were pleased that Aswan turned out to be quite a nice place. The locals were fairly easy going, the streets clean and quiet, and the setting quite beautiful.

Immediately following checkin almost everyone from the truck headed straight to McDonalds, the first since Stellenbosch. Zoe & I aren't junk food shy but the gusto with which some of our co-passengers gorged themselves on burgers & fries was a little disconcerting. Overlanding can be tough stuff for some. In the evening we kicked back in the roof terrace pool, sank beers and watched the Saharan sunset. Overlanding can also be easy: we were now in package tourist mode.

View from our hotel over the Nile, Aswan

Setting off early the next day we visited the Aswan High Dam and Temple of Philae. While both sites were undoubtedly impressive, our guide was disinterested and we were treated to a boring and sometimes confused and dishonest explanation.

It was also the first time we encountered some convenient historic revisionism which seems to pervade the minds of Egyptian tour guides. The guide's most emphatic point was that the vandalism of the faces of figures depicted in paintings and carvings were the work of "the Coptic people" (Copts are Egypt's Christian minority). She made the point over and over and over...and over. Those of us who'd travelled extensively in the eastern Mediterranean, and witnessed the results of defacement of ancient artwork (including Coptic art) knew better. There is barely an ancient sculpture or fresco in this part of the world which hasn't been damaged.

Temple of Philae, Aswan

Later that evening we took a cruise up river for a Nubian dinner. We stopped en route for a dip in the surprisingly clear waters of the Nile. The village was quite beautifully decorated with bright pastel colours. Adorning the doorways of the houses were mummified crocodiles and in our host's home were live crocodiles in a tub! The dinner was otherwise forgettable.

River cruise to Nubian Village, Aswan

Mummified crocs!

Real crocs!

We departed by bus for Abu Simbel at 4am the next day. The early departure is due to the fact that the tourist buses must travel in a military convoy. The shoreline of Lake Nasser is a no-go area as the Egyptians are a little paranoid about sabotage of the dam. Maybe rightly so. A poisoned water supply or a burst dam wall would be utterly catastrophic for the whole nation.

When we reached Abu Simbel, a massive temple complex built by Rameses II, we were again treated to a pointless & careless tour where we learned almost nothing. Although, the Copts were again blamed for the defacement of the art and he was keen to sell us photos. Thankfully, the temples met expectation and were very impressive from an engineering and artistic perspective.

Unfortunately, cameras have been prohibited inside the temples because of tourists not observing a ban on flash photography. Hence the keen attempt to sell us photos. Photography on the outside was also made a little difficult by droves Russian tourists posturing & posing in the most ridiculous manner; ridiculous to all but themselves, of course.

Temple at Abu Simbel

Rameses II

Mummy pose

Babushka pose

The next morning we ditched Andi & Hastie once again and embarked on a felucca trip down the Nile toward Luxor. At $20 pp it was a bargain. For the next two & a half days we slowly tacked upwind, drinking cold beers, lazing on deck, stopping occasionally for a swim or something to eat.

Sunset on the felucca

Kids harvest dates, Nile River

Teaching some bombing skills, Falcon displaying other skills

The feluccas dropped us at Komombo Temple and after a quick self guided tour we boarded a bus to Luxor via the impressive Edfu temple complex. Upon arrival at Luxor we attempted to visit the Karnak Temple in Luxor but it was closed due to Ramadan. What didn't stop, however, was the ranting lunatic at the nearby mosque who led a call and response prayer at a thousand decibels at all hours. His call would often be responded to in unison by hundreds of followers shouting "Allahu Akbar".

Hieroglyphics, Komombo Temple

Egyptian childbirth

Edfu Temple

Inside Edfu Temple

Entrance to Edfu Temple

I had my hair and beard cut by a Copt barber while in Luxor. As he was trying to ascertain how he could emigrate to Australia, our conversation was being drowned out by the caterwauling from the mosque; at which point he stopped and said:

"I leave Egypt with my family because of these crazy people. They are shouting blah blah blah all the time. They do not say nice things."

I felt really sorry for the guy. I've spent 10 years away from Australia mostly by my own volition but it'd take something pretty serious to make me want to leave permanently.

Close shave

He then proceeded to torture me with a length of cotton thread...

Excruciating

Another early start saw us taking a balloon ride over The Valley of The Kings. Neither of us had flown in a balloon before so it was a great experience. Aside from the fantastic views of the valley, the sunrise & the other balloons, the smooth & effortless flight of the balloon came as an unexpectedly pleasant surprise.

Firing up the balloon, Luxor

Afterwards, we visited The Valley of The Kings (this time on foot) entering the tombs of Rameses IV, Rameses VI & Rameses IX. All were incredibly beautiful and well preserved. The quality of the workmanship was well beyond expectation. Our guide, too, was refreshingly good, displaying great enthusiasm and knowledge of the subject. Once again we were banned from using cameras due to certain tourists who failed to observe rules regarding flash photography. Some vandalism was present. Naturally, the blame for this was leveled at the Copts. Although it was obvious that our guide knew better and didn't press the point.

Next stop was the Valley of the Workers. Here were smaller tombs built, for themselves, by the craftsmen who'd built the tombs of the pharoahs. The artwork in some was superior to that in the Valley of the Kings.

Lastly, we visited the Temple of Hatshepsut, an Egyptian queen who infamously dressed as a king to placate her oddly gullible subjects. It is more recently infamous as the site of the massacre of 62 Swiss tourists in 1997 by Al Qaeda; obviously to teach the Swiss for their invasion of...of...whatever...they must've done something to insult them.

And taken somewhere else?

Temple of Hapshepsut

Leaving Luxor we headed east toward Hurghada. The plan was to bush camp near the Red Sea coast a couple of hours from Cairo then drive into Cairo on Friday morning while everybody was at mosque, thereby avoiding Cairo's crazy traffic. An hour and a half into the drive across the desert road, less than 24 hours to the scheduled end of the trip, we hit a snag. An ear-piercing metallic screeching sound from the rear axle saw Hastie pull the truck over immediately. After an initial inspection we slowly backed the truck up about two kilometers to the only shaded area in miles - a eucalyptus lined driveway to an isolated water pumping station.

Disaster strikes

Close inspection revealed a cracked wheel bearing. Hastie had the parts but when he tried to extract the casing he found it had fused to the wheel. Disaster. Any other moment during the trip and we could have adjusted the timetable but, with people having onward travel plans so soon, there was no contingency. Andi made the immediate decision to call the crew of another Oasis truck, which coincidentally had arrived in Luxor, to arrange the truck to bring out a hydraulic bearing puller (a fairly specialised piece of equipment) and mechanic & return us to Luxor. The plan was then to travel by train to Cairo overnight or the next day. It meant not completing the journey on the truck, missing out on our final bush camp and leaving Hastie behind. Needless to say, we weren't happy. It didn't seem a fitting end by any measure. Very depressing.

But, this is Africa...

While Hastie and a couple of the lads were brainstorming and trying any weird and wonderful way of extracting the casing, The Yellow Datsun Ute pulled up, packed with Egyptians. They were delivering something to the pumping station, so we had to clear the driveway to let them past. As the The Yellow Datsun Ute drove past Hastie his eyes lit up. He took off after The Yellow Datsun Ute banging on the side for them to stop. There, in the back of The Yellow Datsun Ute, in the middle of the desert, right there and then, was (yes, we still cannot believe it) a massive hydraulic bearing puller. Oh, and there was a mechanic among the passengers too. By nothing but pure blind luck the crew in The Yellow Datsun Ute had been sent to the pumping station to repair a bearing on the pump.

You cannot make it up. Only in Africa. This is the sort of incident which makes Africa what it is for overlanders: an emotional rollercoaster ride. One minute you're up shit creek in a barbed wire canoe with a sieve for a paddle; the next you're farting through silk cushions, being fanned with a palm leaf and being hand fed grapes by an attractive, semi-clothed person of the correct sex & sexual orientation. Metaphorically speaking, of course...

The heaven sent bearing puller

With the help of the Egyptians and to our cheers of joy, Hastie had the casing extracted in no time. He then fitted a new bearing & hub and we were ready to get back on the road; five hours behind schedule but better late than never. We said our thanks and goodbyes and as The Yellow Datsun Ute drove off, I half expected it to be swooped on and carried away by winged horses.

All Hail The Yellow Datsun Ute

We pulled into our last bush camp on dusk. In the middle of the desert and not a minaret in sight - perfect. Team Local kept form and cooked a great grilled chicken dinner, albeit one headcount down because Laura, celebrating the repair of the truck, downed a bit too much booze in her excitement.

With all the elation and excess booze to consume before Cairo, The Black Boy was reopened by popular demand. Janine was in full swing as she and Shane, her new Australian boyfriend, with a striking resemblance to a clean shaven Bazza, entertained guests from all parts of the world. "Born With One Tooth" from Alberta and her cousin-husband, "Balding Eagle" from British Columbia were first to arrive, followed by Gertrude from Nuremberg who was amazed & perplexed by hodge-podge of pre and post 1940s architecture to be found in the East End. Bubba from Indiana helped out in the kitchen for payment in beers, Rangi from New Zealand's South Island sat quietly and drank, and the Irish lass slept off the booze in the corner. Meanwhile, Mervyn from Somerset had to be separated from Dave from Worcester by Baz from Coventry when a contest involving a fushion of Morris Dancing, Soccer Hooliganism & Beer Can Juggling went pear shaped. With a final rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody accompanied by a naked performance art sound & light show performed by Roy from Lancashire, The Black Boy closed its doors forever.

Sporting a hangover which should probably have ended all hangovers (but won't) we rose early, ate our last bushcamp breakfast, packed our kit and headed off on our final drive day to Cairo. The drive was incident free until we entered Cairo. A burning, fuel laden minivan held up progress temporarily. It wouldn't have taken so long to get past if the locals hadn't turned their vehicles around en masse and driven the wrong way along the freeway toward the previous exit ramp, thereby creating a two way gridlock. The locals, with total lack of consideration for their own safety and that of others, were attempting to douse the fire with buckets of sand (correct), CO2 extinguishers (correct) and buckets of water (wrong move). Soon after we passed one of the buckets of water spread the flame and caused a huge fireball. We couldn't see what happened but, selfishly, I'd rather not know.

Freeway Hijinks, Cairo

Burning minivan, Cairo

We'd been to some fairly grim places on our journey but the outskirts of Cairo immediately assaulted the senses - sight, smell and sound. We had to sit down in the truck and remain our of sight as local drivers swarmed around us to try and leer at the girls, point, wave, take photos with their cell phones or just yell "Hello! Welcome! Welcome!". Mad but very funny.

As we headed to the mechanic workshop to drop off the truck we passed through Giza and passed by the pyramids. What an incredible sight. I've met people who've been to the pyramids who say they're smaller and somehow less impressive than expected. Pigs to that. They're utterly amazing. What an incredible feat of engineering and of the imagination! For the first time in my life I got a lump in my throat looking at a historical sight. Tremendous stuff.

After unloading and saying farewell to the truck, our home for the previous 4 months, we were driven back downtown to a lovely, quiet, comfortable boutique hotel (with free wifi!) in a nice neighbourhood. Everyone crashed out for a few hours then emerged for our farewell dinner, clean, fresh, donning newly laundered clothes. In making it to Cairo, Danny won his bet with a mate by not shaving for ten months and promptly had it hacked off by a local barber. He looked about 12 years younger. Mike also had a shave and looked about 30 years younger. The food was unimpressive but we kicked on fairly late for a bunch burdened with hangovers, and made sure we thanked our fantastic tour leaders, Andi & Hastie, for their patient & hard work on the trip.

Heather & Adam

Kim

Alex (otherwise known as Alan) & Ryan

Dan & Kirstin

Falcon & Laura

Tim & Jono.  Frightening.

Hastie & Andi

Mandy & Lee

Kat & Zoe

But the tour wasn't officially over, we still had to visit the National Antiquity Museum and the Pyramids & Sphinx at Giza. Thankfully Andi bribed our local fixer to not take us to the perfume & papyrus factories. So early next morning we headed off on a chartered tour bus. First stop was the Modern Russian Anthropological Exhibition which features Russians posing, pouting and posturing for photographs, dressed in clothing two sizes too tight and twenty years behind fashion (if ever). There was also some ancient Egyptian mummies & gold stuff.

We loved the museum. Several days could be spent exploring it. Zoe enjoying it much more than any museum she had been to.

After the museum we headed to another Russian wannabe model shoot, this time with the Pyramids & Sphinx featuring as props. The Pyramids were excellent, as was the Sphinx. Our guide was very knowledgeable and a great help swatting away the swarms of touts. He obviously was a man of great integrity because the touts were shouting "He is shit!" and "He is a no good man!" as we passed through the ticket gates. He also displayed intellectual honesty lacking in the other guides: instead of towing the official line and falsely blaming the French (or the Copts or Gay Masonic Jews) for defacing the Sphinx, he correctly named one Muhammad Sa'im al-Dahr (religion unknown but probably Presbyterian) as the culprit.

Pyramid of Cheops, Giza

Sad

Going Russian

And that's that. After a year of planning the trip on the Oasis truck that part of our adventure has come to pass. It's been a wonderful experience; opening our eyes to new ideas, confirming some of my positive preconceptions & worst prejudices about other cultures (and our own), dealing with trials laid before us and, most of all, enjoying the privilege of traveling Africa in a way that many will never do. We've had some great times, great laughs, eaten great food, seen & done great things, walked in the footsteps of great people, met some great locals and made some great friends.

We'd like to thank Yellow Datsun Ute (Bearing Puller Be Upon Him) for watching over us and without whom we wouldn't have made it to Cairo. It's been great.

Next stop: Israel...

p.s. We won the bloody Tri-Nations! Thanks Be to The Yellow Datsun Ute!