Egypt: Time travel in Luxor

Day 2

Walking among those great impressive columns of limestone, all covered with hieroglyphs signs, some still in perfect condition and even preserving the colors they were painted in more than 4000 years ago, was something indescribable in words. I grew up being fascinated by the ancient Egypt, with its pharaohs and queens and Gods and pyramids and temples and mummies and legends… Its all! Who thought one day I would walk the streets of Thebes, the old ancient capital of Egypt, the present Luxor. On these dry lands, my favourite ancient culture was once risen, flourishing in the old times, and now, in the new times, I was here, simply living a childhood wish. I was more enchanted than a kid could ever be in a candy shop, while walking around Karnak Temple, staring countless minutes in front of Ramses II statue, of every wall or column or block. Everything had a camel color, all was covered with hieroglyphs that I could even touch if I wanted so. The temple was changing its shades as the sunlight ruled upon it in the afternoon, beautifully contrasting the blue sky above. From the reddish colors around me to the blue sky above me, my eyes followed the perfect straight shape of the old Obelisk, this pointed pillar representing then and now the petrified ray of the sun God Ra. I walked the Avenue of Sphinxes to the great Temple of Amun, resting by the Sacred Lake after circling around a statue representing a scarab for 7 times. This is a superstition for good luck. I already felt lucky. I was in Luxor.

3am that day

Traveling and going to dreamy places means not just beautiful photos and fresh looks. It’s also about LOT OF sleep deprivation and LOT OF energy squeezed out of your body.

I woke up feeling deadly tired. The previous 2 nights with almost no sleep and the crazy first full day in Egypt consumed too much of my fuel. But the temples with pharaohs statues and colorful hieroglyphs were waiting. Luxor was waiting. I jumped out of bed and on my way out of the hotel, through the ringing screening machine at the entrance, I grabbed my breakfast in a bag handed by the guy at the reception. He was so sleepy too. Also sleepy and even grumpy were the 3 Egyptian guides in the bus. A big bus with only few people inside. Even so, I was not allowed to stay on one of the seats in the front. Saying don’t sit there to a sleepy person is like saying don’t touch that to a hungry one. Made me furious but I let it go and fall asleep. I was woken up to make some room for a Chinese girl who wanted to sit right next to me. I thought why the hell she wants to sit right next to me in an empty bus and I offered to move one raw in the back so I can still enjoy 2 sits. I was told it will be a full bus that day. This was after one hour of picking up people from all the resorts in Hurghada. Jesus! I realised it will take forever to finally leave for Luxor. After another 2h, the sun was rising and we were still driving from one place to another to get the people in. Three women came and occupy the seat I first wanted. Just great!

At least I realised 2 things: 1 – Hurghada was way bigger than I imagine the first day, when I said is huge and 2 – my hotel was the poorest. Still, was the most central and I wouldn’t have traded it for none of those 5 stars resorts placed in the middle of the nowhere.

After more than 3h spent together in the bus while picking up the entire group, a breakfast served on our laps and another 3h on the road to Luxor, who wouldn’t became friends? Even myself and the Chinese girl did.  Nice, talkative, a little messed up up, enough for me to liked her. She was actually a Canadian, moved there with her family when she was 7. She was in love with scuba diving and traveling through Egypt all by herself. She was teaching kids with special needs in London and her name, which I wasn’t able to remember, signified, in Mandarin, yellow firebird.

She takes terrible photos though. She and many others I met in Egypt cause I came back home with so many photos in which one of my feet didn’t make it entirely. Just details…

11am that day

We arrived in Luxor after a more than 3h ride, on a dusty road filled with old cars. Every time we were entering and leaving a city or a village, there was a small security point where army men wearing bulletproof vests and rifles were looking at every car passing by. Some cars were pulled over for checking. We passed through large cities like Safaga and Quena, but most of the road was through villages. Not much of a difference anyway. Cities or villages, they all looked the same: dusty, filled with people looking the same and dressed the same, in shades matching that unbearable dust that was everywhere, kids running and waving to us, old houses, some bearing old marks of arabic words written on their walls, other looking as if they were waiting to be demolished soon, stores selling barely nothing with no customers seen around. So many people rushing everywhere as if life itself was entirely developing on the side of this very road. Very few women, like small moving black dots wandering unnoticed in that permanent mist of dust. If inside the cities some women were only wearing a hijab, leaving their faces uncovered, in the rural area no woman face was to be seen.

Men were outnumbering women by far. Always men, on every street, in every car, in front of every store and in each small gathering, in front of a house, sitting on the remains of what once was a wall or simply on the ground, smoking. Everybody was smoking, even our driver inside the bus. Egypt looks like a country of men. As we were driving through this spectacle of life in Egypt, I didn’t wanna miss any detail of it, of any street or any corner. I reached far, looking on the little streets, going deep among the houses, searching for small gestures or faces, having only 1-2 seconds until we drove further. We stopped at one point blocked in the traffic. A man was vomiting on the side of the road, another left the car to see if he’s ok, an old car in front of us was full of sheep, from another one laud Arab music was filling the air, a little further a young man and a women were changing sights, smiling and in love. I had no idea where one city or village ended and another started, they seemed all connected by the canal of water running on the left side of the road. On some portions I couldn’t see any water in the huge amount of garbage down there. I wished I could be invisible, get down the bus, walk unnoticed, cross the street, walk the streets in that village, enter its houses, see the women faces left uncovered maybe, listen and understand what people talked about. And tell them I was already regretting to stay there 5 days only.

Out of the blue the dust was gone and green fields of clover replaced the dusty villages we now left behind as if they never existed. It looked similar to the rice fields in Indonesia, with people in light clothes and bare feet working those fields. Tens of white egrets sit on those fields and the water canal that now looked clean enough to drink from it. Green palm trees and bushes of pink, orange and white bougainvillea beside the road. My Chinese friend just woke up and her reaction “Where did all this green came from?” made me laugh. Indeed, it came from nowhere. And then we saw the Nile. Everything there was a gift of the Nile. Luxor was beautiful, green and fresh and intense, filled with marks of what once was the capital of the ancient Egypt, Thebes.  

Mandy, one of the guides, was so pissed off because we were constantly leaving the group like two lunatics, wandering around the site at Karnak Temple. He started yelling at me that he didn’t wanna lose us there. Egyptian manly personality… Mine is also far from being better, so we yelled at each other for a few minutes, in the middle of the site, in the middle of a sea of tourists.

We left Karnak Temple as I took one last look at its wonderful columns we left behind.

We soon arrived at the backs of the Nile, this gift from God which is, in its turn, offering us all, since forever, this amazing country. Dahabiya boats with large white sails were moving up and down the Nile.

The Nile, Luxor, Egypt, beautiful places

We crossed the river to get to a restaurant for lunch. One hour later, we left to Hatshepsut Temple, driving for a while through a desert valley of limestone, with straight walls where old tombs were built inside. The story of queen Hatshepsut is fantastic and so was her temple. Daughter, sister and wife of a pharaoh, she takes the role of a pharaoh when her husband dies and her son was still too young to rule. She somehow manages to rule Egypt for 21 years, becoming the first great woman leader that we know of in history. She was the only woman buried in the Valley of the Kings.

Hatshepsut Temple, Luxor, Egypt,

This was supposed to be the next destination, The Valley of the Kings, a place I could not wait to see, the place where all the pharaohs were buried. At one point, after leaving Hatshepsut Temple, the group was split in two by the guides. I had no idea why, no one did. My Chinese friend was sent together with other people in two small busses. I was sent to our previous bus, with a few people already waiting there. It seem strange so I went to the guide again before leaving and ask why were we split. He waved his hand in a rush and sent me back to the bus. We left a few minutes after the two small busses with the rest of the group. After driving for about 15 minutes we stopped. And so I find out that I was in the Valley of the Queens not the Valley of the Kings. I have never even heard before about this place. I was ready to explode. I was told that, apparently, the price I paid was for the cheaper version of the tour, for the queens not the kings. I had no idea there was such a difference since I was told from the hotel the program included the Valley of the Kings. I was too angry and pissed off and I didn’t enjoy at all this Valley of the Queens, which was actually really nice.

Valley of the Queens, Luxor, Cairo

We went deep down, inside two tombs with empty square rooms, all covered with hieroglyphs. All that was found there was now in the Egyptian Museum in Cairo. In one of the tombs was found the sarcophagus with the mummy of the daughter of  Ramses. One of the Ramseses actually since there were no lett than 18 pharaoh named like this.

Even if all the other few were feeling just as angry as I was for missing the Valley of the Kings so stupidly, I was the only one making a big deal out of it. Because for me it was a big deal. The entry price was 100 Egyptian pounds for the Valley of the Queens and double for the Kings. A difference I would have paid with no hesitation if I only knew. I felt disappointed and fooled but determined to argue about it and bring the subject back in discussion constantly for the rest of the trip. And so I did. Soon all the 4 Egyptian guides realised I wasn’t going to get over this as they thought and started apologizing for the misunderstanding. It didn’t help either and I was ready to fight the guys in my hotel for messing this up.

This seem to be the leitmotif of every place I like and I wanna go back to: I somehow always skip something I really want to see.

We ended the tour on Banana Island, a small island on the Nile. We met here the rest of the group and had guava, bananas and oranges, all produced organically right there, on the island. It was so green and lush. Eating those delicious fruits finally made me just a slight less angry. Seeing the photos taken by the Chinese girl in the Valley of the Kings also helped. It looked similar to the place I was unintentionally taken to, an open valley of limestone, with tombs carved inside the mountain.

On our way back, the sun setting behind Banana Island made the entire Nile look as if it was on fire. The red sky, the black tall palm trees on the island we left behind, white boats with large sails floating on those endless orange and dark blue waters and a hypnotising Arab song played loud. I reached my hand down the small boat and touched the Nile. It was an unforgettable sunset!   

The Nile, Luxor, beautiful places 

We drove back to Hurghada on the same dusty road, through the same villages, filled with people. Only now, at night, there were even more of them outside, on the streets. This time gathered around fires. So many fires lighting that dark dusty mist and thick smoke filling the air. It was an unbelievable atmosphere of feast for no reason. Of celebrating nothing or maybe everything: a day was ending, a new one was to come. So celebrating life itself.

I reached my pocket and pulled out a little white paper with my name written in Hieroglyphs, by one of the guides: 3 birds and a river.

Egypt: December Summer in Hurghada

Day 1

Old buildings of limestone, square simple shapes, dusty streets, more cars than one can imagine. A general rumour, car horns, constructions noises, traffic jam reached my ears. It was the most dense, vibrant and mindblowing top view of a city. It was so big and so alive as if it was breathing beneath my eyes. This is how the home of more than 23M people looks like. This is Cairo. And from the top, the tall wall of The Saladin Citadel, I saw for the first time, in the horizon, in a cloud of dust, two pyramids.

Hurghada

After 16 hours spent beautifully on the streets of Prague and a night spent in the plane, I landed in Hurghada, on the coast of the Red Sea. Second time this year at the Red Sea, first time in Egypt, first time in Africa.

The first challenge: finding a pen to complete my visa paper. It took me 15 minutes for that. Everybody seemed to be awaited by a tourism agency that was taking care of all. Everybody except me. So I was among the last to leave the airport and one of the few with no transport arrangements.

At 6am there were not so many options to take me to my hotel. I started regretting not taking the offer from the hotel when I couldn’t negotiate for less than 15$ with a taxi driver. He quickly placed me and my luggage to another taxi driver in the front and they started a minutes long fight in Arabic, not at all disturbed by me standing there and looking tired and pissed off. I guessed he wanted more money. We finally left in his very old car, with stickers in Arabic everywhere. In a few metres he takes a ticket from a machine and says, in a poor English, that will cost me 5 more euro. Snap! If 30 minutes ago I landed being quite frightened by the news I got from my mom the night before, while in Prague, about the bomb attack the day before, that had killed 4 in Gyza, close to Cairo, and I was promising myself I will be quiet, let it go, never start a contradiction with anyone, now I was ready to fight this guy who was rubbing me of my 5$. So all fear was gone and I raised my tone telling him to stop this price raising or I will leave the car immediately. I agree to pay the damn 5$ more, highlighting it’s just because I’m too nice to him. He ended this tourist scam wishing me Merry Christmas and welcome to Hurghada. Such a welcome! And anyway Christmas was ended two days before.

As we were driving, I didn’t like what I saw from the taxi window. At all. I was expecting the exotic images from the brochures, with posh pink large hotels, palm trees, vegetation, white beaches and turquoise waters. No sight of that. All looked under construction and never to be finished, with deserted streets where rare old cars, looking too old to be used were driving to fast. Small stores looking dusty and unwelcoming. The green tall palm trees of my imagination were small, looking dusty and dying. I was hoping this was probably outside the city. Nop, that was it. The so called centre looked just as bad.

Hurghada, Egypt beautiful places

With one last small hope I arrived in front of the hotel. And so this has  vanished too. Golden Rose deserved a more suited name: Dusty Rose. It was surrounded also by buildings under construction. This seemed to be a pattern of the area. I descended the taxi in my winter coat and a cloud of dust made by the taxi wheels on something that looked like sand and small stones mixing the ground in front of the entrance. The only nice thing was a beautiful pink bougainvillea covering a corner of the green tall fence whose leaves were all yellow from the dust. When I approached the door, the scanning machine in front, which I first believed was deactivated, started an alarm that seemed at least to have woken up the guy at the reception. I entered a mall like this but never a hotel. I was never before in Egypt, true. A terribly looking Christmas tree in a corner, all covered in dust too, was trying in vain to charm up the place. I needed a deep breath. I got more cheered up by the hospitality of the guy at the reception. Happily my room was ready. Large and clean, with a nice balcony facing the sea, through some palm trees, dusty too. If I looked down, the view was bad.

I was so tired and wanted to sleep like a bear in winter but hunger and thirst were way stronger. And even stronger was my ambition to prove myself this trip was a good decision, that this was better than just another New Years Eve at home, in a restaurant of a nice hotel, a nice club or bar, with family and friends. But most of all I was keen to change the terrible impression this place have left me so far. I had a positive feeling in spite all of there.

Was anyway too late to catch one of the tours I was interested in, involving snorkeling, the no 1 reason that brought me in Hurghada, since all were leaving around 8:30. And seemed anyway too cold to such an activity. Where is the so praised summer in winter in Egypt, I was wondering, hoping that it was still to early in the morning. I forced myself to wear shorts and sandals and went out of the hotel to hunt something to eat. At first I was freezing. The second, I felt too naked for a place where I could see only men and literally no women. At least I had a wind jacket on that brought some confidence too. I went to see the beach next to the hotel. Close to the water was nice, with umbrellas made of palm tree leaves. In the back though, there was a bunch of broken beach chairs and God knows what else, left there for no reason but to spoil the image of the place. But there is no beach front I wouldn’t like. I left promising the guy at the entrance to come back later. The main street was getting more alive now compared to when I arrived, with shops selling golden jewelries, tons of them, or clothes, all too flashy and nothing of my taste, but I wasn’t there for shopping anyway and taste is not to be commented on. Still it had this feel of slum, of street that we see in the bad areas of a city everywhere in this world, except here with old commercials written in Arabic to remind one which part of the world it was.  

Gurghada, Egypt, beautiful places

One more last hope took me to Hurghada bay, where the port and the promenade were. On the way there I stopped and buy a pack of Cheerios with cheese and water. That’s what hunger and thirst does to me: reducing pretentions. I had to wipe off the dust on the pack of Cheerios with my hand before opening it. I was already getting used to this and find it funny. Not so funny was stepping accidently in a puddle of slimy water, while as has distracted with killing my hunger. Yeap, I was wearing sandals and was gross.  

I saw a guy calling me and waving his hands to me from the entrance, he did not insist too much so I continued walking. Later I saw there the security check machine and I understand what he wanted from me, as from everyone else entering the area: to do the security check. He wasn’t insisting since I really looked like a lunatic tourist, nothing to represent a potential danger.

The promenade was beautiful, the first place I saw in this country that looked more taken care of, I thought then. In a few days after I was going to change my view and appreciate more quite the opposite of this, but more about that as my days in Egypt developed. If beautiful means nice restaurants, terraces, palm trees and spaces with vegetation, no dust here and the most perfect crystal clear turquoise water, with fancy white boats floating and colorful fish that could pe spotter in the water, than this was a beautiful place. Add a gorgeous limestone huge mosque a bit further and it’s a view impossible to criticise. It was empty still, no people.

Hurghada, Egypt, beautiful places

At one of the two stalls there selling tours I meet Nura. There is no happier face than hers. She is a petite woman with nice forms and a robust and always allert body. Her face, framed by a black hijab was wearing all the freckles it could accommodate. It was that type of meet that transforms people into friends immediately. Her 4 years old daughter was like quicksilver. She offering me, out of the blue, her entire chocolate bar she was chewing, was the sweetest moment of a day with a crazy start.

Thanks to Nura I had a better deal than the one from the hotel for the last tour that day: 2h in a boat with glass bottom. Since I had nothing better to do, I took this.

I still had one hour left to kill. I spent it fully on the terrace of L’Imperatore, an Italian-Egyptian restaurant, conveniently placed in front of the boat for the tour, who’s owner was so nice to offer me a salad and a mango smoothie though the place was not open yet. More about the hospitality of Egyptians I was going to find out on many occasions the next days. In this country, this corner of the world that frightens the tourists, I was treated more as a queen or as a family member than as a customer.

Hurghada, Egypt, beautiful places

Happily the sun was stronger now and was not so cold anymore so the boat tour was great. Seeing the shore from the distance was even more beautiful. Now it looked like the brochures images in my head. On the other side, a vast island, Giftun, was stretching like a yellow line in the turquoise waters, among darker spots of coral reefs. We saw plenty of fish and corals but I was expecting more from the famous Red Sea.

Hurghada, Egypt

When I got back to the hotel I lost more than one hour in the lobby, the only place with wifi, searching on the net and trying to decide what to do next. Makadi Bay tempted me the most from the start, but Nura was saying there are only resorts there and nothing to see, she tried to convince me to arrange a taxi to take me to El Gouna, but the guys at the reception were saying there’s only beach and was too far away, they were suggesting Dream Beach instead. They made me crazy, all my initial plans of snorkeling in Makadi were not possible since it was too cold for me to jump in the water. I only had 3h of sun left and I decided I wanna spend them on the beach, any beach.

The closest beach, the previous one was the winning option. It was beautiful but windy and so cold. Still there were people in the water. 2. And 8 on the entire beach, with me included. I don’t need 30’ to convince me to go for a swim, but when a young blonde woman looking scandinavian came, dropped her clothes and in 1min she was swimming, while I was in a jacket and all covered in beach towels, I thought something’s not right. How warm that water could be? I had some conversation with one of the guys there which I wanted to be short to have a quiet moment.

I left the beach little before the sunset, I was literally frozen. I was in despair thinking at the possibility of being close of this underwater paradise and still not be able to take a swim. I decided I will take that swim no matter what the next days.

I wrote Nura on WhatsApp. She came with Jackie, her daughter and took me to a tour of the city as they were heading home. Jackie was on the back seat, her hands full of money and for the entire trip she talked to me in Arabic and a few words in English. She is adorable. We arrived in El Dahar Square right before getting dark. It was like madness, a crazy traffic, cars and people going everywhere. No rules, no lanes, no traffic signs, no crossing marks. Nothing. Only lots of cars, all sort and sizes and all looking really old (except Nura’s car) and lots and lots of people. All were crossing as they pleased, through the middle of the square, among the cars. But one thing mattered here, in this pure chaos: the car horn. This is how they are doing all the moves, outrunning another car, changing the direction or touring. That’s why it’s a madness of car horns.

I was still the frightened tourist, thinking about bomb attacks, stabbings and kidnappings, when Nura left me on the side of the square, promising to come back in 2 hours in the same place. The idea of getting lost there was a nightmare. I was comforting myself thinking Nura wouldn’t have left me there if it would have been dangerous. Many crazy paranoid thoughts were messing with my head.  

Hurghada, Egyps, beautiful places

She left and I was now all alone, trying to cross the large street full of cars driving chaotically. I got to the other side with all 2 legs and 2 hands. There were stores everywhere selling everything. I headed towards the most lighted street I saw there. I was aware, at first walking fast, trying to keep distance from every person. And there were lots of people but no tourists. I barely saw 1-2 couples of tourists, that’s all. This is what mass media stories do to us: scare us. I was alone, at dark, in the night bazar in central Hurghada. I bet on all the money in the world none of my friends would do it. But that’s why I was there alone.

With every step I was more confident. No one was staring, calling names or cat calling me. I actually got more of these in my own country. Sure, many were looking but just as people in my hometown would look to a woman wearing: because it’s different. Instead many were smiling friendly as an encouragement. It was an amazing vibe, so alive, so real, so natural, so true life.

Hurghada, Egypt, beautiful places

A funny thing happened. I was invited in a shop with beautiful Egyptian pieces made of stone. I knew it’s a custom. Then I was invited in a small space in the back. At this point I became a bit stressed. The owner wanted me to write something about his store in my language. He saw I was standing there without moving and assure me nothing will happen if I sit a moment so I can write my message. A small table with small glasses of tea on it and colorful carpets on the chairs around. I wrote, in my language: welcome to the most beautiful store in Hurghada and teach him how to say it. Latin languages are so different from Arabic so this was so funny. Then I stand up preparing to leave when my heart stopped. They have closed all the lights. I thought that was it, I was looking for it since I came here and made a sudden move to try to jump and run outside, like a last desperate try to save my life. So help me God I thought. And then I heard the men around, about three of them: no, no, look, is shines. I thought: What the hell shines, as I was coming to realise I was a bit weird and maybe was not the case to be scared. I could hear my heart beating as my eyes were getting used to the dark and I finally could see the phosphor marks in the large statues in the store. Hieroglyphs and ancient Egyptian signs were so bright and incredibly beautiful. How stupid I was, I thought, trying to look as natural and relaxed as one close to have a heart attack could fake it. I just hope for them was not so obvious how I felt in what I thought to be my last moments in Cleopatra store. Before leaving, I told the owner the next day I will head to Luxor. He was from Luxor and was thrilled to tell me a little about his hometown. He taught me before leaving the magic sentence for a foreigner to say in Egypt, in case of trouble: ‘iinaa min huna (I am from here), he gave me a present, the Egyptian symbol for good luck, a scarabee bracelet I still have on my wrist when I write this and showed me where to eat good, right in the middle of that street. He put me to promise him I will go back in two days, on Dec 31, to tell him how it was in Luxor. I didn’t promise but I so regret I wasn’t able to go back and do so.

Hurghada, Egypt, beautiful places

The place I was recommended to eat was a place I was just stepping by before and it shocked and amused me how incredibly dirty it was. A small room in white old tiles, with tall glass windows looking really oily, with small metal or wood stars, too dirty to tell, going upstairs, two huge pans outside with hot oil where a boy was frying something from time to time. Inside a man was grabbing food from the tins around him using only his hands, other two were bringing new tins full of all sorts of food. One was pouring something that looked really gross from a big basin, that looked as if no water and detergent have touched it for years. I do not exaggerate, the place looked terrible, rather suit for those missing a few days of food poisoning. I had no idea what to take, no one spoke a word of English. So I took what I saw. Someone before had a plate full of a few meals looking very good and fresh. But seeing the meat storage there, I thought I should better not go for meat in such a fancy place if I wanna leave the toilet the next day. But the place was full of locals buying food as takeaway. I said to myself: now or never and took a soup and some pasta in front, only because I could point them. I was shown to take a sit to the only table. Was smelling like food inside as if they were cooking for an army. The food was quite delicious. The next days I had many times that type of soup, called lisan asfour, or bird tongue soup, but that was the best. I ate my dinner under the surprised looks of people entering the place and seeing me there, eating. Their first surprise was immediately replaced by smiles. Two little girls watched me constantly while their mother, who was wearing al-amira, the two pieces of black veil leaving only the eyes visible, was in vain trying to stop them from staring. She also turned, I saw the smile on her eyes and I smiled back with a hand gesture and a blink instead of it’s ok, are kids. And like that, we understand each other. I paid and right before living a saw many people buying something then the window. I used the excuse I needed something for breakfast, on the way to Luxor. I aswed that were some small balls and I was immediately hand one, by hand, from inside. OMG. It was falafel, which of course I know, I had it in good restaurants, I had it in Israel, in Jordan but this was the king of falafel. The best I ever tasted. I took some fried spicy eggplants. Also delicious. I left and took a photo of the place from outside. I will never forget it as the place I was laughing about considering it too dirty and where I actually have such a good and authentic food experience. And the next morning I was in perfect health.

Hurghada, Egypt, beautiful places

I walked among people, thousands of people on those little streets as if I really meant ‘iinaa min huna, I was from there. Men wearing taqyia, headscarves and long camel thobes with large scarves hanging down their neck, woman with their faces covered with al-amira or wearing only a hijab, holding grocery stores in one hand and the hand of a child in the other. And I felt secure. I thought it was the place to take amazing shots for a photographer which I am not but I did took some photos: with a store called ISIS, the name of an ancient goddess, with a spices store with tens of spices in colorful bags outside, with a stall where a woman was baking corn, waving her hand with an old newspaper as sparkles of fire were filling the air above her head, with the boy selling fruits in the market that wanted me to take his photo smiling, with the merchant who sold the first raw dates I ever had, with the cages full of hundreds of live chickens or the huge pieces of meat hanging outside, in front of the meat stores.

Hurghada, Egypt, market

I bought a bracelet, a bag of tea and fresh dates, I was invited in more than 10 stores, I was asked where was I from and if I liked Egypt. I said yes and it was pure true. Those two hours showed me so much and turned upside down many of the perceptions I had before. I am definitely not someone who gets scared easily, but of Egypt, I was afraid.

Hurgheda, Egypt

Nura came for me as planned. She found me smiling with my entire body and carrying many bags with the things I have bought. I told her all, in one sentence: Nura, this is incredible I think I’m starting to love your country.  

Wait to see Luxor and Cairo she said. And I couldn’t wait for more!

  

 

 

 

 

 

3 awesome days in The Netherlands

Usually the first day of December finds me in a Christmas market, somewhere in Europe, where the holiday spirit is in the air, with my eyes glowing, my heart melting and my fingers warming up on a too hot cup of mulled wine. Instead, this December meet me in Scheveningen, the most popular stretch of sand in Holland, right between The Hague and the North Sea.

The Hague

The first glimpse of the sea made me whisper: How I’ve missed you!Once I got off the tram, I followed my sea lover instincts to led me to the beach, among seagull cries. It was sunny, cold and windy, all three in the same time. The hard wind blowing made the entire beach look like a small version of the desert during a sandstorm, with sand blown away at my feet from one side to the other of this lange beach. The North Sea was dark blue, with sea foam made by the strong waves moving around on the wet sand at the shore. Tens of colorful kite surfers were riding those big white waves to the shore and than back to the sea. It was a summer feel in winter and a perfect spot for one of the most beautiful beach sunsets of 2018.

Scheveningen, The Hague, The Netherlands, beautiful places

Back to the city streets, I walked those in central Hague for hours that evening, passing by The Binnenhof complex countless times, watching the skyline of the city mirroring its hundreds of colorful lights into Hofvijver’ waters. Old and new mixed together in a rare pleasant city view, the tall blue shaded buildings of glass and steel accompanied by the old brown walls built in bricks. A couple of white swans was completing the image.

I feed my foodie spirit with an amazing beef stew fries at Frites Atelier and a delicious dinner in Chinatown, at Woenk Kee.

My very first day in The Netherlands ended with a fairytale: a brief history of the country projected by a show of lights and sound on the beautiful old facade of The Ridderzaal.

AmsterDamn beautiful

Happiness comes in many forms. Sometimes as a sunny day surprise  when you’ve been bracing yourself for a long forecasted rain.

After a ride among the purest Dutch landscape, with green meadows full of Holstein cattle and white fat gooses, with black huge windmills in the horizon, I finally arrived in Amsterdam in the most beautiful sunny day of December. Warm and calm as an early spring day. If you think you can imagine what a city full of bikes and bikers looks like, well, you can’t. Outside the central station there were thousands of bikes parked. Thousands in rows. A view that brings a smile on the grumpiest of faces. A strong scent of pot was Amsterdam’s welcome.

A pleasant surprise was that my hotel was right in front of one of the most iconic spots of the city: The Damrak, with some gingerbread look like buildings reflecting in the water. The second not so pleasant surprize was that the hotel was in a full process of refurbishing and it was a total mess. An extra reason to leave my super light baggage and run out.

I don’t do history or art museums or any other touristy activities that involve spending time indoors, in crowded places, based on a previous schedule. Instead I decided to leave it all on chance, skip the over photographed places like I Amsterdam sign in Museumplein, removed a few days after that weekend. With a bad connection that kept Google Maps in my pocket and a big walking mood in a sunny day, I decided to discover the city without any help. And just like that, by chance, I found, one by one, my favourite beautiful places in Amsterdam.

De Waag, this 15th-century old building sits on Nieuwmarkt square on one purpose: to charm the passers by. It worked with me. It looks like a fairytale castle with towers in the middle of the vibrant city. And at night, when it rains, with all the lights reflected on the wet pavement it’s too beautiful to forget. If you head to Bushuissluis Bridge, there’s another perfect pic of De Waag.

Amsterdam, beautiful places

After Damrak, with its narrow houses and gingerbread look, you’ll think nothing can be more wow. And then, a few steps away, another very cool Amsterdamish place can be spotted from Armbrug Bridge. In looks a bit Venetian with a touch of the north as the eyes reach further, at Sint Olofssteeg, a narrow canal bordered by straight buildings on each side.

Amsterdam, The Netherlands

Right across the chic Cafe de Jaen, look for a street who’s name you can’t pronounce. Too long and complicated. But it offers a great spot of Amsterdam also, with the buildings lights beautifully reflecting in the canal waters.

Miss a little bit of more Dutch mood? The Mill Diamonds, which hosts a jewelry store is a must find and The Gooyer, a must go, for the amazing beer tasting in the brewery there. Beer in a Dutch windmill, that was a first for me. I sincerely confess, I skipped Heineken Experience. No judges please. I like beer but I guess Guinness Storehouse in Dublin is just enough of beer manufacturing experience for me.

If there was still any hope, I got in love head over boots with Amsterdam once I arrived in The Nine Streets area and Prinsengracht Prince’s Canal. Turn around on those bridges for a 360 amazing view of Amsterdam canals. So damn beautiful and unforgettable.

You can’t be in Amsterdam and miss the Floating Flower Market Bloemenmarkt. It’s the place for tulips but not only. One day, when I’ll spend my springs peacefully in the garden, I will know there to come for flowers bulbs.

Too much walk and no food is not the sign of a happy city break. I followed the water, walking by the canals, until I reached Albert Cuyp street market. The place was just as alive as any market and place with good food can get. The fries from Pietersma, with their own special dip, were delicious, followed by a super stroopwafel and a nice conversation with the owner of Original Stroopwafels stall about the original recipe from Gouda. As his son promised before I had my first taste of this heavenly desert: it was a life changing experience. It’s so good you’ll have fantasies with after. And in the end I had to find some room for a small portion of poffertjes, mini pancakes with powder sugar and melted butter. It was worth the effort to eat all. And since now I was already round after all that food, I rolled over back to the centre.

Amsterdam, my beautiful places

Finally Red Light District, a place with actually a very rich history and I mean it. A history of sex industry dating back to 1300s, when women carrying red lanterns met sailors in the port, as Amsterdam was a major trading harbour back then. Now the oldest job in the world is still practiced on the little cobbled streets, inside small houses, except is has been legalised since 2000. I wandered the area curious to discover this infamous area, by far the most crowded in Amsterdam. A true carnival of vice, as called by Lonely Planet, with sex shops showing huge dildows in their windows, strip private shows, women sex workers wearing lingerie, seen in small brothel square windows. All was red and smelling like pot. It’s an experience to see it.  

Amsterdam, Red Light District, beautiful places  

I said at the beginning of this I don’t do museums. Well, this was before Amsterdam. I couldn’t resist the sex museum, I was also tempted by the prostitution museum and that of illusions. Cannabis museum is worth seeing too but I totally loved the cheese museum where I tasted about 20 types of Dutch cheese. Right next to this is the tulip museum. Yes, Amstredam has plenty of canals but also museums.

I left the city in the evening, after 2 full days, heading to Eindhoven for my flight back home. I was in love!

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