Cruising Down to Wadi Haifa - Feb 2002
Edfu a Beer Con
Ugly Duckling Grows Up
Nasser Cruise
Wadi Haifa
Keannu Reeves Cut Off In His Prime
We got out of Luxor and headed south knowing that we had not too much time before we had to meet up for a boat ride down lake Nasser. The ferry had been booked by the hot Rockers for their huge behemoth of a vehicle, but there was space left around the edges for Scully and others.
On the way south (by mad convoy again - this time, a pickup in front and one behind with only us in the middle - how many cars make a convoy?), we stopped in at Edfu to check out its reputation for possessing the finest of all Egyptian ruins. The reason for the quality was in fact due to its being 2000 years younger than everything else as it was built in Roman times as something of a nostalgic pile.
Impressive though it is, it seems that Edfu itself has been little changed by tourism other that the ferry port and queues of horse carriages waiting to whisk sightseers from he confines of their air conditioned cabins to the ruins and back again. Certainly the one tourist hotel in the town had not been improved since the middle ages. Although hospitable folk were running it, it could have done with a lick of paint and some new beds!
The locals of the town did not seem to have been tainted by the usual Egyptian tourist mentality other than a poltroon who enticed us into a bar with the promise of large beers for 5 EP. This is a pretty fair price. He provided us with small ones and then trying to rip us off for soft drinks to go with it. He ranted and raved for a while as we walked away without drinking or paying. He'll learn. In complete contrast, when trying to buy oranges, we found it impossible to part with our cash - it transpired that we were at a wholesalers who insisted that we took a bag of aforementioned for nowt. Fair enough.
After spending a night and seeing the temple in the morning, we got ourselves back up to the checkpoint for the next lightning dash down to Aswan. We were relieved to think that as Aswan is the end of the country, we would not be doing any more convoys unless we took in a trip down to Abu Simbel. It was not over yet, though. We had a three-hour wait in the heat of the day while the convoy from the North arrived. At least we had a few laughs. How many camels can you get in a Toyota pickup? Strangely the same number as elephants in a mini, but all four in the back. In a large truck, you can get 8. They all sit there incredibly placidly as only a camel can. There were countless other colourful moments, but we were still glad of the breeze when we finally got off.
The journey to Aswan was at the usual break neck speed, but we managed not to mow down donkey carts or old ladies crossing the road. Aswan itself had a nice feel to it and we were looking forward to spending a few days here, maybe having a bit of a felucca ride on Valentines Day with a bottle of wine. Then we checked out our email to find that Fi was telling us that the ferry to Sudan would leave on Tuesday, a week earlier than we thought. Hey ho! Looks like we'll have to return to Aswan in a different life. From then on it all seemed a little hectic - Fi was arriving in Aswan at 11 and we met her on the side of the road, off to their campsite to meet up with Stevie and Sculley.
Due to the complication of his lack of carnet, Sculley's bike had to leave Egypt before him. So I become the nominated rider, this also means that I can blag my way onto the ferry as only drivers are allowed on with the vehicles. I know what you are all saying - but you can't ride a bike Hippy. So guess who is pushing the thing on to the ferry.
Our last night in Aswan we treated ourselves to a meal out, which was a bit disappointing but we had a few beers before we enter the dry zone of Sudan.
Customs and bureaucracy at the port was relatively smooth. It only took 4 hours to cut through the paperwork and load the pontoon with, of course, the obligatory baksheesh for the guy who allowed it to run smoothly. He turned a blind eye to me wheeling Sculley's bike on and the fact our carnet was a day over.
We're off! The trip took 3 and a half days rather than the expected 2 down Lake Nasser. We were well fed from Stevie's Landrover which is an amazing vehicle - an adapted army ambulance complete with cooker, fridge ironing board, toilet, shower and lemon squeezers. This lady is determined to travel in a home from home - and why not! I felt for her as her home was taken over by a bunch of scruffy Herberts cooking fried breakfasts.
There were 4 other vehicles on the ferry with us. A Landrover driving from Katmandu to Kilimanjaro, one Swiss guy in a Landrover heading for South Africa and a couple of Dutch brothers also heading for the south coast.
Our Nasser cruise was really quite jolly. On the way, we saw a host of gin palaces which seemed to contain about 20 people each out of a possible 200. We were chuffed to think that our cruise must have been considerably cheaper than theirs. Although, each morning as I peeled myself off the floor of the truck, I could see the advantages of mattresses and fresh linen. We spent a few nights moored to dubious rocks on the shore of the lake. The first, particularly, was worrying as a strong breeze blew up in the night and had us rocking a little. In the morning, cooking eggs in Stevies galley was tricky. The van is somewhat less stable than your average Landy as it has quite a lot of weight high up. It swayed around good style until the Dutch lads donated a couple of tie-downs. (They obviously appreciated the stream of tea emerging from the interior!)
We passed close by Abu Simbel on the last full day and others who have been there tell us that the view from the lake is better than the interior anyway and so we do not feel quite so cheated by our rapid exit from Egypt.
Having checked out of Egypt and not into Sudan for four days must count as one of the longest border crossings on earth. But there was more to come.
We landed at Wadi Halfa at 9 o' clock in the morning and sat on the pontoon for about 2 hours waiting for someone to show a little interest. It was a Friday. Had we made better time, we would have avoided the Moslem holy day and people might have been a bit more apparent. We eventually got off the boat only to be sent up to a compound to await further processing. 3 hours later and for no apparent reason and we were allowed to proceed to the police station in town to register our arrival in Sudan.
In all, it was 5 o' clock before we were setting up camp for the night. Oh, and 107 US dollars lighter in the pocket. Total costs for coming to Sudan without even having a cup of tea - 55 US each for visas, 70 US for the ferry tickets, 15 US to clear customs in Egypt, 10 US for the crew of the boat for being the crew of the boat and the 107. Not only one of the longest, but possibly one of the most expensive! Taking a quick look around Wadi Halfa, it is clear that this tax revenue is not filtering down.
The following morning, we left the wide streets of mud brick houses that constitutes the town (described locally as a city) of Wadi H and headed for the customs house to get the carnet business sorted out. After a meaningless wait in the scorching desert sun outside the building, we were unexpectedly told that all was in order and we could head off. Mark (K2K) arrived with the carnets later.
We spent quite a few days at Wadi H while we waited for Sculley to arrive on the normal passenger ferry. It should have been made clear that the pontoon business was a special that was laid on as there was sufficient crowd to warrant it. During the sleepy time, here, we played cards, ate fried fish and generally did not a lot.
Keannu Reeves Cut Off In His Prime
The high point in Wadi H is the evening satellite film. There is just one small problem. The electricity is only on for 12 hours in each day - from 12 to 12. As we were readying ourselves o watch the promised "Speed" featuring Keannu Reeves, there was a delay as there was a broadcast of an interview with Yasser Arafat. The crowd became restless and we felt that this was a little rude to their Arab neighbour. All became clear as the climax of the film arrived some 10 minutes later than planned and - off went the power. I had retired to bed earlier and could not comprehend Hippy's frustrated mutterings in my half asleep state.
It was a refreshing change from the hassle of Egypt. The people here are genuinely nice, they chat and hand out free food as they pass by and have no ulterior motive. The women are beautiful, not only because they are elegant, but because they have smiles which overtake their faces and a softness of expression that reveals real hospitality. Their gentle assertiveness indicated a different interpretation of Islam. The bright colour of the clothing and sweeping shawls were the antithesis of the prim and starchy scarves in Egypt. On top of this there was no one overcharging the white tourists in the market and the local money changer seemed to feel perfectly safe with thousands of US worth in sacks in his corrugated open shack. This is clearly a country of honest people.
Regrettably, the country was not so wonderful for poor Jimmy. Purchased as a truck mascot by Fi, he was a truly international tortoise and had enjoyed a Nile cruise, which cannot be said of many of his breed. He passed away quietly in the night and had a decent Christian burial in the sands by the hotel. Our wishes are extended to his family.
There was little to do in WH so we headed for a change of scene for a night to rough camp in the desert. This was clearly nothing new to Fi who had been on countless overland trips but to Stevie and us was adventurous. The road out of WH was a prologue of things to come - the corrugated track shook the vehicles cruelly and the thought of 600 km of this, until we hit the 400km of tarmac to Khartoum was more than a little worrying. The night itself was peaceful, the sunset beautiful the night sky clear and littered with a sea of stars. Fi kindly entertained us with her fire tricks which involved whirling around flaming balls on the end of wires. It looked like the kind of activity that should be only approached after several pints of lager, and since we were all sober, we chickened out.
Tuesday arrived and the remains of the Hot Rockers were reunited with the truck and the Sculley monster appeared. Things were all working out smoothly. Even an all day session of volleyball with the locals created a fantastic international relationship organized by the Hot Rockers (see, they are not that bad, Dad). It was fortunate that Stevie was very tolerant of the stray balls bouncing off her Landy as it was being used as one of the posts. We were more cautious and moved our tent from its vulnerable position on the end line.
As we knew the "road" to Khartoum was known to be difficult Sculley, Stevie and us planned to go in convoy to help each other out if there were difficulties rather than getting stranded in the desert with no idea where we are and with a broken vehicle.