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Finland: How to find Santa’s Secret Cabin in Levi

14 March 2019 My Beautiful Places Leave a comment

I woke up that day of January in the absolute white winter paradise. After a night of ice crystals falling from the skies at -30C temperatures, I opened the door in the morning to the Finish version of Narnia. The sugar trees from the day before were now even more loaded of snow powder. Not even the tiniest part of everything around have escaped this white beautification. The mountains of snow around the main road were even higher, the streets completely icy and white and the traffic signs just a pale remembrance of any other colors that ever existed before this complete white. So bright was all.

I had big plans for that day and I needed “fuel” for that. Sandwiches with salami, garlic cheese cream and cherry tomatoes, Skyr yogurt with apples and Runeberg torte, the famous Finnish cake, made my breakfast perfect and cosy since they all were in the fridge from the day before.

First stop: the tourism information office, where I was hoping to get some info about how could I get to one of the most epic and over photographed places in Finland: Santa’s Secret Cabin. It looks just as its name disclosures: a wooden cabin with a high porch with a top view, in the middle of a winter wonderland. The place has once served as a movie set, a movie about Santa Claus, of course.

There was only one organised snowshoeing tour going there each Monday. The price was about 100 euro and I would have been crazy enough to pay this but… it was Saturday that day. The girl at the office explained me a lot in too many words, showed me directions and maps. I didn’t get anything in the end. I only remembered a phrase I have read on a blog recently, that in was between two slopes, on top of the Levi hill, where you can get by the gondola.

I took the bus, payd 4 euro one way (told you already Levi is a budget killer) and in 15 minutes, after a gorgeous ride, I arrived at that gondola place.

The girl in the coffee shop that sold me the tickets for the gondola gave me tons of confidence when she assured me that Santa’s cabin was at 10 minutes walking from the top.

Next I was in a gondola, on top of the white forest of high pine trees, heading straight to the top of Levi hill. I draw my head nearer the icy glass window so I could see better the amazing shapes of the trees I was passing by, covered in snow and big icicles hanging down their branches. I knew Santa’s cabin roof should have been visible from the gondola, right before reaching the top and I did looked in all directions but I didn’t see any cabin or roof. Was nothing but white everywhere.

The ride ended as the gondola reached the top and when I got off, picture this: coming from -25 to -8 feels like a too fast delivered summer, a bright sun spreading its orange rays on a sparkling cover of snow, people in colorful suits wandering around the top, on skies and snowboards, a wooden cabin with a Carlsberg sign above its door was almost completely covered in white….The air around was sparkling and shining as millions of ice crystals were filling the atmosphere. A great view but I was there for a higher mission so I immediately started looking for the famous Santa’s Secret Cabin. I asked a woman holding a map, she never heard about it. I asked another one, this time with a professional camera hanging on her neck, so a sign. I presume she was a photographer and might know or even planning to get there. I got nothing again but two badly framed photos of myself and that Carlsberg cabin. This is THE CHALLENGE when traveling alone: getting a decent framed photo of myself in a beautiful place, considering I hate selfie sticks and never used them.

I went right then turned left. Nothing. Looked up and down. Only slopes. I remembered about what was said on that blog: it was somewhere “between slopes 10 and 11”. It was also saying you can’t get there without snowshoes or sky cause you’ll be literally swimming in very deep snow which means risking an injury… But was not the time and place for pessimistic thoughts.

I walked a little bit down to get a little closer to one of the slopes. I look down in the valley. It was a 180’ view down there to Sirkka, to forests the and roads below. Right in the middle there it was, at about 500m, in a perfect winter dream scenery, Santa’s Secret Cabin’s surrounded by trees covered in snow and right next to another cabin, this time smaller. It looked dreamy and I got so very excited and hurried to get there.

I tried to go straight down but it was so steep it made me dizzy to even look in that direction. Then I tried to follow some old traces left by someone in the snow before. I was swimming in snow like knee deep for a few meters and then the traces disappeared suddenly. It seemed they couldn’t go further either. Then I tried a different strategy, walking in parallel, like in sky, to make it less steep and easier to descend. It seemed longer but easier for a few more minutes. I was stepping carefully, as the snow was breaking under my feet in wide portions of ice. Sometimes I managed to stay at the surface, but for too many times I went deeper in the snow with one foot or both. Was like walking on a frozen lake where ice was too thin and it kept cracking under my weight. I was holding my breath with every step wishing I wasn’t born such a gourmand. I actually had no idea how deep that snow was, sometimes I went down 30-40cm. But it got deeper every time. At one point one of my feet was buried completely, hip high, and I had to grab the frozen snow around the hole with both hands to pull myself out. This crater was formed close to a big rock and it hurt my feet a bit when falling. That was it! The last drop:

F—k it, I can’t do this and it’s not worth the risk.

I looked back at the starting point in the top. I had barely walked down a few metres. The sun disappeared under a few puffy clouds and the valley was now almost hidden in a foggy vail. It was just me trying this madness, no one else. I stopped on top of a rock to avoid getting deep in the snow once again, I found my balance, got the camera out of my bag and snapped a very pissed off photo of that Santa’s Secret Cabin down there and impossible to reach. It looked wow even from that distance, like a winter wonderland. The photo I took was bad and I was going to delete it for sure soon after. I turned around and started climbing back to the top.

I got back to where I came from easier then the descent. I took another photo of the previous wooden cabin with the Carlsberg logo hanged above the door, the one right in front of the gondola exit. I was trying to convince myself that was a nice cabin too. I remembered what the girl at the coffee shop said: 10 minutes only… Maybe she knew a secret easier path or she had snowshoes…

I abandoned the mission and started walking around. The snow was so frozen and was making such a noise. At 10m away I saw a group of three small cabins and I decided to get there. I took a lot of photos, at least I will have something…

A couple, both on snowboards, were sliding down the slope at the left, he fell and she started laughing. A few minutes later I saw them down there, at Santa’s Cabin. It seemed this was the only way to get there, sky, snowboard or snowshoes. I had none, only a last drop of hope left. I was now right under the gondola cables and some people in the cabins were looking at me with a “what the hell is she doing there alone” expression on their faces.

I still had the itch. I thought I should just look again down there, one more time, to check how far was the cabin from that point…. A few steps further, on the snow that didn’t crack this time and I got to the point where I could see straight down there. It was a little closer now but still too far away. But what do I see now? There were two people there, playing in the snow. Not the couple I saw earlier. It was a man and a boy, they seemed to have such a great time. They too probably got there on skies, I thought. Lucky them! They were two little black spots moving, on the white snow. The boy was making snow angels and throwing snowballs. They must have been there for some time. Soon, they seemed to be preparing to leave, and this made me curious to see how they were going to do it. I was expecting to see them grabbing their skies or snowboards or snowshoes and head down the slope. But no sight of those. They were actually on foot! That totally gave me hope! Could I get there too???

When I saw they started climbing the hill back to the top, I knew I could. This was how they got there, avoiding the deep snow and the steep parts using that side of the slope be. I couldn’t get there from the point I first try but now it looked easier. Oh my, I was so excited.

If I could manage to walk straight and fast enough a distance of about 30m, in front of me, I could intersect them right at half way. I could from there follow their traces down to the cabin. That might work for me too if it did for them. But those 30m were the problem as it was a portion where rocks could be seen raising above the snow. So I couldn’t tell how deep snow was or how frozen. Adrenaline was kicking in. I started with small but rapid steps. A few times I got deep in the snow but got out again fast. I was in such a hurry to meet them at half way. The piste machine have passed by their side and left long straight parallel lines which I could see now in the snow. I was getting closer to them and I heard their voices. The cabin was growing in front of me as I was getting closer. They were walking fast too and I realised was going to miss them. So I shout at them from the few meters left between us:

– How did you got down there, is it difficult?

Of course I could see all that, but I needed some moral support I guess.

Happily the man heard me and they stopped to catch their breath. He answered with a smile. Sure it was so damn difficult. Their red but happy faces proved it.

I had more courage now that someone was there, closer. From the point I was it seemed piece of cake to get down there, following the traces left by those two in the snow. And so I did and I made it to the cabin. The sun came out from the clouds in a small window, tracing a perfect vertical orange line of light. What a view, of the two cabins in front of me and the “snow monsters” around, those small pine trees completely covered in snow. The admiration stood me still. Few minutes later I started taking photos. Lots of them.

I saw a group of 6 girls climbing on snowshoes. They arrived there too and asked me to take some photos of them together and then they paid back the favor the same way.

I went inside Santa’s Cabin and they took some photos with me on the porch. Good photos this time. Perfect ones.

– Is it easier to descend on the way you came? I asked them.

– Oh, no, no, no way, it was very difficult for us to climb all the way up here, it is easier from the top.

They left as they came from. I was happy I also had photos of myself in that beautiful place.

I was again alone. The closest people were at about 50m, on the slope on the left, far enough to preserve the silence around me. I was preparing to leave as I already had plenty of photos with that amazing winter sunset when I saw a strange colored light on the sky. It was a vertical line of light, similar with the one still traced by the sun, only this one was colored. I looked better. It was a rainbow! It can’t be a rainbow on the sky with no drop of rain, at 20 negative, on a clear sunny winter day, I thought. I remembered a fragment of conversation I heard the day before, during the snowshoeing tour, when the guide was talking about a rare phenomenon that occurs in crisp cold sunny days in the Arctic areas, when the sunlight interacts with the ice particles floating in the atmosphere, producing two rainbows.

It was called sun dogs or sun phantoms. The name doesn’t do any justice to that fabulous view. The sunset sun was now framed by two intense colored rainbows, placed at equal distances. First I saw the one in the right, then, soon after, the one in the left. I was stoned. How could it be, I barely understood what the guide was talking the day before, and a day after I was witnessing this magic? It was mind blowingly stunning, no words can describe it. For a sudden a thought crossed my mind: am I still alive, is this earth, is this real? It so was! It was nature at its best game: doing masterpieces of natural beauty to leave us speechless. The white snow all around was now turned into an orange see in the sunset light and sparkling particles of ice crystals in the air were shining like millions of diamonds that surrounded me. If something can be too beautiful, this was the place!

I took countless photos. The lens of my camera soon froze, three beautiful ice flowers covered it and it was too cold to manage to wipe them off. My fingers were hurting me because of the cold. I used my phone. Soon it’s battery died of the cold but happily I had a power bank. This was not an event to miss. It brought tears in my eyes as I was feeling grateful to live it. I wiped them off so they won’t stop me from seeing what surrounded me.

The two rainbows were now so intense, coming down from a curtain of clouds. Time stood still for a long and spellbinding Arctic sunset. I saw the reactions of people on the slope. The all stopped wherever they were when they saw it and didn’t move.

This was by far the most sublime winter view I ever saw in my life. I saw many white winters with sparkling snow and sugar trees, true, not as “sweet” as the Finnish ones in Lapland, deep puffy snow, icy streets, blizzards and frost, frozen lakes and white mountains but I never saw a winter sunset like this, so long and so orange, with two rainbows in the skyes.

Thank you Finland! Like this, you blew my mind totally, that day of January.

Egypt

Egypt: Paradise Island and cheers to 2019

3 February 2019 My Beautiful Places Leave a comment

“Don’t be afraid of life! Don’t be, because then you will not live at all.”

This plain and simple truth was Mustafa’s answer to my question about the exact place where a bomb attack has killed 4 people 3 days before, in Gyza, a short drive from Cairo, the place where we were. My cat like curiosity… Mustafa was the Bedouin guiding us from the camel ranch to the plateau where the ancient Pyramids were, fascinating people for over 4500 years. My guide recommended a camel ride for two reasons: to avoid the people trying to sale souvenirs, that can get pushy sometimes and to more easily walk through the desert sand on the plateau.

And so, here I was again up on a camel, though I have swore myself I will not ever do it again after my first camel ride in Israel. Why? Because of the permanent feeling I’m gonna fall down and break something. This seems even more close to happen when they kneel, only then I get close to smashing my face to the ground. And as camels are not at all short animals, chances are high. Plus, they also seem to hate it, getting in their knees on and on and on. I was trying to ignore this while on my right, the Pyramids and the Sphinx were offering one of the most iconic views, that of a world wonder.

December 31st

2018 was a fabulous year! It was so rich in experiences I couldn’t have ever dreamt so far or wished it will be that much. From the northern lights at the Arctic Circle in Norway to the rose city of Petra in Jordan and my first bare footsteps on the desert sand in Wadi Rum, from the streets of Jerusalem to the tea plantations in Sri Lanka or the green rice paddies in Bali, from the breathtaking views of Kuala Lumpur or Singapore skylines, from infinity pools, to the jungle sounds in Taman Negara, the 130M years old forest. This year gave me so much. 15 countries with 13 of them seen for the first time, 3 continents, my first trip to Asia (I really need to find the time to write about this adventure) and my first steps in Africa. 30 flights and my first long haul flight of almost 13h to which I survived successfully. More than 35 cities, 3 islands and I don’t remember how many incredible beaches and sunsets. But most of all the people, the amazing people everywhere and the absolute feeling of faith in humanity. It’s truly a world of wonders and people really are good and caring.

There was no better way to end such a year than a trip to Paradise. Paradise island in Hurghada. It surely looked as its name was promising. Turquoise clear waters, white sand beach, sunbeds in the shadow of low umbrellas made of palm tree leaves and an unbelievable underwater paradise with colorful corals and plenty of fish.

At least the misfortune from the previous day in Luxor, when I was taken to the “never heard of” Valley of the Queens instead of the iconic Valley of the Kings, brought me something: endless excuses from the owner of the tour company, which I didn’t necessarily needed and a VIP status on this trip to Paradise (Island), with everything included. This one was really helpful since I was so messed up to forget in my hotel room my brand new snorkeling set and the beach towel.

I was actually hoping to stay away from this guys by planning this trip with the help of my new friend Nura instead of the guy at the hotel reception, who first booked the Luxor trip. But it seemed I ended up on their tour again. The way I found this out was quite funny: when I arrived to the port, where the guy who came after me at the hotel drove me, I was met by another guy who asked me again about Luxor. Since I saw still irritated about the subject, I made a little drama starting with “better don’t ask me”. Soon after I found out he was the owner of the agency. The reason I insist on this is that I was so surprised they actually cared so much, the owner of the agency came in person to meet me because of what he heard: someone was not happy with his service. He even waited for me in the port when we came back and drove me back to the hotel, promising me a free tour to Luxor whenever I come back to Egypt again or any other tour I wanted for free or even a discount for a PADI certificate when he heard I was interested in. He miraculously got me to the point where I wasn’t upset at all anymore and I told him I really can’t accept so many instead because that won’t be fair. Well, Egyptians really take hospitality to a level I never seen before.

Paradise island offered us a perfect hot summer day in the middle of winter, actually my first experience like this. Replacing boots with flip flaps and the winter coat with a swimsuit is heaven… And yes, I entered the Red Sea and yes, as they all said already, the water temperature was perfect. If only I wouldn’t have forgoten my snorkeling set and the one I was given wouldn’t have been damaged to make me breathe water… Even so, I saw enough to confirm that Egypt coast is ideal for observing the underwater world. It can compete to famous places for diving from Malaysia and Indonesia.

At 8PM in that evening I still had no idea how I will spend New Years Eve. I was so tired I could have slept immediately. But I remembered what my grandmother always says: your new year depends on what you do the night before it starts. So I wasn’t going to risk a whole sleeping year.

It all arranged by change. I went out on the hotel terrace to play with a cat. It was an amazing evening with 18C. I decided to take a walk and buy some chips and water. The main street was so alive. The possibility of sleeping wasn’t so tempting as I got contaminated to that energy. I saw Gad, a restaurant Nura recommend. It was a fast food and a restaurant in the upper level. I went up and had the best shawarma in my life, on a plate full of deliciously cooked meat slices, a big plate of fries, garlic sauce and salad of veggies freshly chopped. I got a message from Mandy, one of the guides from the trip to Luxor. I have sent him earlier that evening a message to tell him that Paradise island was indeed a paradise, as he said. On the way back from Luxor he made me promise I will send him a message with my opinion. He was right in front of Gad and he was hungry. He joined me for dinner and we decided to meet after for a drink. I was in desperate need of a shower after that day on the beach.

At 11PM we met in front of my hotel, as he was living right nearby. And what was to come was the most crazy New Year’s Eve I ever lived. Egyptians do know how to party wild! They might not have the spectacular fireworks show in other places, but they have all it needs for a memorable fest: the joy of life.

We meet two of Mandy’s friends, great guys too, and we had whiskey and then guava and chips and oranges brought especially and immediately for me when I said I’m not so much into drinking alcohol. It was an old office with a screen showing images from the security cameras outside. I found out this became common for any building in Egypt after the revolution in the Arab Spring. A large window was opened to the street and it felt like a summer night outside.

00:00 o’clock found me on the front seat of Mandy’s old car, with the side windows opened completely and loud Egyptian music playing, mixing with all the other songs played in the main street we were driving slowly, through crowds of people, with his friends singing and dancing on the back seat, shaking hands with others in the street. Men, women, children, all were outside, celebrating. A few fireworks were shot in the air marking the first seconds of 2019. I said my wish full of hope and so happy. We continued in a club where Mandy managed to got us in, the owner was a friend of his. We got a front table, ordered beer for the 3 of us and celebrated together with Egyptians, Ukrainians and Russians there. The dance floor was on fire. People were dancing, men were dancing. I don’t get to see this very often in other places. Two men started a fight at the entrance. It was violent but it bothered no one and has ended soon. The atmosphere was just like Egypt, loud, intense, alive and so addictive.

It’s unbelievable how wrong we can be when we just don’t know. 3 days before I was arriving in Egypt feeling quite worried. And here I was now, only 3 days after, at 2am, celebrating New Years Eve with 3 Egyptian men I barely knew. Perfectly safe and enjoying the best time, more than I could have hoped for. I was happy I came alone, this couldn’t have happened otherwise. Mandy showed me the photos posted minutes before, on Facebook, by some people from the tour to Luxor. They were a big group of friends, all together in the photo, all in black tie, wearing the classical New Years Eve shinning hats and holding champagne glasses inside a nice restaurant from a luxury resort there in Hurghada, surrounded by other people, also tourists. That photo could have been taken anywhere, mine in Egypt only.

Open your eyes means open your world. And as long as we’re alive, cause truth is no one is getting away alive from this life, we shall live.

Egypt

Egypt: Time travel in Luxor

22 January 2019 My Beautiful Places Leave a comment

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.