Naughty & Nice in Edfu

As I left the comfort of my squatter’s palace in lovely Al Quseir, I was excited to be heading towards the Nile. Visions of floating wooden barges and feluccas sailing lazily down the water as camels grazed peacefully in the shadows of looming ancient temples. The Nile in Cairo was a big ole river in the middle of a very big city, I wanted to see old school Nile. If you didn’t know it already folks, obviously I’m in my own little world; it’s 2011, not 2011BC! So I left the coast of the Red Sea and spent all of about $5 to get the 5 hours from Al Quseir to Edfu via the usual Peugot station wagon and minibus. I was aiming for Edfu as it didn’t seem to be too much of a tourist town, it’s right on the river, and I was planning to hop a local boat from there south to Aswan. Why I try to plan these things after ALL this time is beyond me; I just don’t learn.

The minibus driver, as all of them have been, was WONDERFUL! Every taxi driver or transport driver has gone out of their way to take me the extra distance from the station to wherever I might be able to find accommodation. Even insisting on carrying my bag! I’m strong like bull but thankful for the chivalries when it means climbing X number of flights of stairs with it. Then they all make sure I take their phone numbers, even if they only know 3 words of English, so that “you call, I help you”. SO NICE! Really. Edfu was a loud, busy town, a minor stop on the tourist circuit, so I thought it would be an okay happy medium of comfort and challenge. The hotel where my driver dropped me was WAY expensive so backpack on (it’s now mid-afternoon hot), and off I trudged to find somewhere to lay my head for the night. It seems that accommodation is hard to come by in Edfu as not many people could offer ideas and I was on the main street through town. Finally, two young girls walked me to this crumbling building (literally!) tucked behind alleyways near the market and saved me from the sweltering agony of concrete, blaring horns, and being generally lost and confused.

The surprised looks on the faces of the staff members at El Medina Hotel revealed that they had obviously not seen a foreign traveler in quite some time. They immediately welcomed me in and the owner, who must be pushing 90 if not more, insisted I sit and look at comment books and photos of him with travelers of many years ago while another staff member graciously provided me with the coldest, yummiest glass of guava juice. The broken chatter about all of his guests and the 20 or 30 years that he had owned this hotel went on and on and on (never did find out who owned it for the 150 previous years.) The younger staff members offered me sheepish, sympathetic looks as they attempted to redirect grandpa so that I could actually get a room, but there was no stopping him. It was only once I sifted through all of the photos and skimmed the latest comment book did someone swoop in and save me under the pretense of showing me rooms for the night.

Ummm… okay. Now, I’m remembering some of the places I’ve hunkered down in before. I’m not usually too too picky about where I stay, I usually know what I’m getting myself into more or less, but yeah, this place was rough. The man showing me around was so eager, showing me one room right next to the office if I wanted to be close to them, (no, very kind, but no thank you), another one that was right over the street, looked bright and sunny, and then an “Oh wait! Ah ha! moment” as he brought me to a similar room but on the other side of the scary building where it was “very quiet, no street, very quiet”. Yes, yes, this will do. I was cringing but he was SO nice! Back downstairs to fill out paperwork and talk price. This place was half the price of the first place but still the most expensive place so far and really, should have been condemned, but at this point, my choices were pretty much none and the family and staff were just so nice! “you drink tea?” “you want food?” “you want tea?” Umm… I’m okay, I’m just gonna go to my room, but thank you, thank you very much.

The door to the room was barely on its hinges so needless to say, the lock was most ineffective, the three single beds in the room had mattresses so thin that I could feel the wire frame underneath them, and the bathroom, oh the bathroom, it had me afraid for my life. That being said though, it was a big room, I couldn’t see any creepy crawlies, and yeah, it was only for one night. I dropped my stuff, making sure that nothing that was going to touch my skin touched the floor, the carpet, or the beds, and ventured out. Hot and sweaty but I wanted to see where I was.

Harassment had been blissfully minor up to this point. I was thoroughly unprepared.

Horse drawn carriages seem to be the way tourists get around here so each one that passed by shouted to me for a ride. As did each taxi driver and each shop owner. “Hello!” ”Hey you!” ”Hello!” ”Taxi?” ”Hello!” ”You want taxi?” “Hello!” “Look in my shop!” Hello!” “What’s your country?” “Hello!” “Welcome to Alaska!” (What the HELL? That’s a new one!) There is no possible way to respond to every single person who shouts at you or tries to greet you or attempts to engage you in some form of communication. Honestly, it’s not being rude, it’s just impossible. And then, super annoying. So ignoring them is a survival strategy that is the quickest way to get rid of the unwanted attention. Quickest, but not immediate. I kid you not, the taxi or carriage driver will slowly pace beside you and just say “hello, taxi?” over and over and over again, honking their horn or cracking their horse whip, while I look straight ahead not even acknowledging their presence, and it goes on and on. We’re maybe a metre or two apart and they just keep throwing out their pitch while I continue to ignore them. I’m serious! It must look hilarious! And love a duck, it’s exhausting.

I finally hide out in this tiny little falafel hole in the wall where some nice kids are working. The group of curious onlookers that gathers always has at least one who can speak English. The English speaker gives me the creeps right away as he was one of those yelling for my attention on the street from his car and came rushing in when he saw me sit down, but I’m hungry, the other boys in the shop are nice, and *sigh*, I just don’t have the energy at the moment. I ask about any other places to stay and of course, he offers his family’s house. Now THIS isn’t creepy, it has actually been surprisingly common and so very Egyptian hospitality where I've been invited to stay with families out of sheer generosity, but when I declined, he followed it up with the tidbit of info that he has a cat that just had kittens, don’t I want to see the kittens? Oh ewwwwww!!! Pedophile to the children in the park… come on little girl, I have some puppies in the car, come see my puppies. No way guy!

I firmly refuse but then he insists that he show me a place that he knows of. I ask him to just tell me, no, no, better price if I go with you, which again is true, so I go. It’s broad daylight in the middle of the busy street and my creep detector is on high alert so I’m not worried. He’s shady, but a bit of a joke. I figured I could outrun his chubby ass if I needed to. Not 5 minutes down the road and the conversation turns to him asking me to do something, blah, blah, blah, that I should hold his hand because it would be nice for him and make him feel good. Ciao creep! I turn on my heel and am outta there. My icky hotel is just fine, thank you very much.

As I’m standing in the doorway to the office of the hotel talking to the incredibly nice man who showed me my room earlier, creepo kitty guy suddenly shows up, peering over my shoulder. ACK! Get out! Get out NOW! He tries to talk to my hotel guy so I just kept talking over him saying “bad man, bad man, bad man, tell him to go, tell him to go.” so my hotel guy politely insists that he leaves. I thought that I'd shaken him off when I bolted from the street but the creep followed me! I made sure that my hotel man knew to not let this guy back into the hotel, to NOT show him my room, that he was NOT my friend, and to please let me know if he comes back. It really wasn’t a big deal but wow did it ever give me the heebie jeebies! Yuck!

As I’m gathering my wits in my room, there is a knock at my door not 3 minutes later. Really?! Did he really come back?! It was the nice man (oh I wish I could remember his name!) who was insisting I come downstairs. Why? Just come, come. Oh shit, what have I started? He puts me in this tiny, dingy room, obviously where staff hangs out to watch TV and I’m thinking that if police or creepy kitty guy or ANYONE else shows up, I’m ditching my stuff and making a run for it. Instead, nice man brings in a massive tray of food, his lunch. He then begins shoving food in my hands and up to my mouth, eat! Eat! Oh no, no, I just ate, really I’m ok. No! You eat! His English is broken, his face is serious, he wants me to know that Egyptian men are good men and I don’t know? that maybe food will erase the minor creep experience I had upon arrival??? So we sit, he eats and I try to swallow a bit here and there (I JUST ate, remember?) and he tries to make everything okay. SUCH a nice man! I ask him about getting a felucca south to Aswan and he makes a plan to take me to his friend later that night. He was going to take very good care of me.

Unfortunately, the Nile in the middle of these cities is just a big river with massive cruise ships tied up alongside. No sailing boats, no fishing boats, only hotels on water. This sweet man walks up and down the river later that night with me asking whoever he can find about local boats to Aswan. We talk to tourist police (who know nothing) and local people but can only come up with a plan to show up the next morning to try again. Looks like there are no boats going south. From what it seems, for whatever reason, you can only sail the sections of the river between Luxor and Aswan via hotel-sized cruise boat. No feluccas, no small boats, and no hopping on board somewhere in the middle, which is where I was. Sigh. Okay. Will try tomorrow. Back to the hotel. Took a good couple of hours out of this man’s night and he can only smile and ensure that we try again tomorrow. Wow. So, so, SO nice!

Not much sleep that night, for however many reasons, and at 6:30am someone starts knocking on my door. You know how when you don’t sleep all night, the only sleep you actually get usually comes around 5:30am? Yeah, I had just fallen asleep and someone is knocking on my door. Hello? Hello? Who’s there? Please go away! No response, just… Knock, knock, knock. Grumble, grumble, grumble, I open the door to grandpa insisting that I come for tea. I simply looked at him. No thank you, I’m sleeping (pointing to my wildly messy hair and puffy face). You want tea? No, really, thank you, I want to sleep. Oh, okay, you come later. *sigh* Nicest family EVER but COME ON!!! I shake my head, laughing to myself, and crawl back into my creaky wire bed.

I try to get a bit of sleep, get up, and pack up all of my stuff. I’m leaving today whether there’s a boat or not. 8:30am, another knock on my door. Really?! REALLY?! It’s nice man, asking when I’m going to the temple because “temple open now, going to boat 10 o’clock”. Okay, okay, going now. Oh my GOSH! I hoof it the 20 minute walk to the Temple of Horus ignoring horse carriages and taxis the whole way. Oh. Wow. Most completely intact temple in Egypt. This was amazing. Huge and perfect and amazing. Needless to say I was there a little longer than I had planned. Was almost 11 by the time I got back to the hotel and the nice man and I said a quick goodbye. I’ve GOT to find a way to thank that man. Incredible.

Oh, little side funny. Apparently I’m the only one who walks anywhere hence the only crazy man in Edfu who also walks the road from town to temple thought it would be quite entertaining to stalk and shout at me in what I think was his attempt at asking me my name in English but more or less sounded like “wassabyneem?” I crossed the street, he crossed the street, I slowed down, he slowed down, I passed him, he ran to catch up, you get the point. I just ignored him and kept on straight ahead however a few people watching this scene signaled to police officers (I didn’t see this) who felt it was now their duty to accompany me. Crazy man hopped up in one of the many horse carriages, laughing as he was whisked away, and then the police pick up where crazy left off… So, what’s your name? Where do you come from? *sigh* What can you do?

The backpack walk to the river was the longest yet so I was exhausted upon arrival. Found out what we had suspected, no boats for me to hop on, so train it is. 3 hour wait until the train comes. Ugh. But it’s all good. Heading to Aswan.