First Class - All the Way

  Luxor, Egypt
Friday, August 15, 2008

After our full day of viewing the pyramids, we were now heading off to Luxor to see some of the tombs and famous temples of Egypt.  Our tour that we had booked included all of the transportation, and to get to Luxor, we were on a night train - first class, no doubt. 

We were taken to the train station by one of the tour employees.  It was nice to not have to search for things ourselves for a change.  We were led to the dingy train station where he continued to stop and ask various people questions, gesturing in different directions and pointing at the tickets - which looked very much like drink tickets you would get in Canada.  (Our fingers were crossed).

He stopped at a small cafe/restaurant/truckstop - a bunch of metal tables on concrete next to the trains basically.  He then told us he didn't know where the train was - or which one we were on.  Things were not looking good.  It was becoming apparent that as he asked more questions, if the person he was asking realized we were with him, they were less than willing to help out.  He told us to rest at the tables and he left looking for some more answers.  When he returned, he happened to mention that this place had the best mango juice.  He had said something about this on the walk to the station, so we figured, the least we could do is buy him a juice - hopefully we get on a train to Luxor that night.  Trevor headed to the counter and purchased two thick mango juice treats to slurp on - one for us and one for our helper of no answers.   

The mango juice is made from real mangos so it is very very thick - like a milkshake really.  It also has the pulpy-type strings of the fruit in it that can not really be blended up - all of it is nice and cold and ours was really delicious.Trevor saw OURs getting made - so we are not too concerned about our drink, but he also saw another customer's getting made and here is some first class service for you.

The 'gentleman' pouring the drink (and we use the word gentleman loosely), poured it too quickly from the pictcher and into the tall narrow glass.  It was overflowing with thick, orange mango bits.  To rectify this little mishap, he did not reach for a cloth, nor did he grab a new glass - he did not even just whipe this one off with his fingers.  No.  This 'gentleman' bent down and put his lips in an 'O' shape over the center of the glass and slurped the excess mango juice.  This would be similar to us slurping up foam when you pour a pop too quickly and need to prevent it from overflowing.  As he pulled away, a pulpy-type string of mango was still dangling from his lips - to Trevor's horror, this orange mass then fell back into the glass.  The worker took a spoon and scooped it out of the glass before turning around and serving it to the customer behind him.  First class service! 

We waited a little while more and the tour employee then started leading us around the train station again.  He asked a few more questions and eventually we were down some stairs and around a corner to another section of the station.  There was not a single other tourist to be seen.  I asked him about this and he said that we were going on an Egyptian train, not a tourist train.  This did not sound good.  We would be on the train for a minimum of the quoted 9 hours - we were hoping to have somewhat of a normal place to sit and hopefully sleep. 

We were becoming more and more doubtful as we sat there that this would possibly be an enjoyable trip, however, there is always that small glimmer of hope.  That hope was somewhat obliterated when the train pulled up and our guy pointed and said, "This one".

The old, dusty machine pulled up and reminded us of some very old grain elevators.  This was our first class ticket to Luxor.    We looked at the guy who brought us here and gave him a disbelieving look.  He said, "No Problem!  No Problem!" And ushered us closer to a doorway, searching our little ticket stubs for the correct car number.  We did end up in a section that had lots of leg room and the rubber-esque seats were not horrible, but we were still mildly concerned about how everything went down.  We weren't sure that we were overly welcome on this non-tourist train - since no one wanted to help our guy out in showing him the proper one to get on, and we weren't totally sure about our little 'drink tickets' that had our apparent seat numbers on them and had something in Arabic written on the back in black pen.  The seats he showed us to were not side by side, but one infront of the other - both aisle seats.  He told us to just sit side by side and tell whoever comes along to take the seat behind us. 

Yes. 
No Problem.
We speak no Arabic.
They speak no English.
We don't seem to be overly welcome.
And WE'RE making demands.
This sounds like a simple thing for us 'whiteys' to do.   
First class indeed. 

Again we crossed our fingers and sat down, silently hoping for no problems to arise.  Not too long later, a large Egyptian man with a brown robe (Trevor says, 'dress') came on and looked at his ticket and looked at our seats.  Looked at his ticket, looked at our seats.  Looked at his ticket, looked at our seats.  He began speaking gruffly, and we knew he was telling us we were in his seat.  Trevor was trying to explain that we were hoping to sit together.  The scowl on his face did not look promising.  He began gestering angrily and speaking more quickly, voice rising.  I was ready to move, when two men around us were able to translate for us.  They were both very friendly and explained that he wanted his seat.  Trevor explained that we hoped to sit together.  They told us that this man also wanted to sit next to HIS wife, who would be across the aisle from him.  

Luckily for us, the gentleman sitting in the other row we had one of our seats booked in, was willing to trade, so we were still able to sit next to each other, and the rough, gruff, rather angry man no longer glared at us.  Crisis averted. 

Throughout the train ride, there were various stops, and at each one, someone came on to sell something - cigarettes, newspapers, things that we had no idea what they were for and so on.  These guys (and sometimes children) would come on, walk up and down the aisels shouting the same thing over and over again.  Annoying as heck. 

The train was well-equipped with A/C which was a great surprise, although it was so well-equipped that we ended up too cold to sleep.  We pulled out the one set of warm clothes that we had and slipped into them.  I had on some yellow workout pants and a sweater, and Trevor cozied up with one of our sheets.  We were getting settled rather nicely actually and were ready to welcome some sleep.

At some point in the 9 hour train ride, you would expect to probably come across the need to head to the bathroom.  I avoided this for as long as I possibly could - but unless I wanted to sit in it, I had to head to the bathroom.  This was undoubtedly the most horrible facility I have ever had the displeasure to be in.   There was holding of breath.  There was attempts to cover my mouth and nose with my shirt. There was inevitable gagging.  The floor was wet and dark - who knows what all was in that liquid.  The smell can not be described.  Multiply the worst smelling outhouse with the worst smelling garbage dump by 10 and you MIGHT be able to come close to the stench that I endured for 30 seconds or so.   I attempted to keep the hem of my pants out of the mysterious, dark and disgusting liquid on the floor - however the gagging and astronomical effort not to touch ANYTHING in the small cubicle, took priority and I noticed that an inch of the yellow fabric on my right pant leg had touched the floor.  A came crashing out of the room gasping for fresh air and heading to our seats again half wishing I had just peed my pants instead. 

9 hours turned into 10.
10 hours turned into 11.
11 hours turned into 12.
12 hours turned into 13.

We were 4 hours late arriving in Luxor.  We had been told that we would be met by someone from the tour company who would then take us to our hotel.  Here's hoping. 

We grabbed our bags - both the large packs, and the small day packs - and headed for the exit of the train, leaving behind a mysterious yellow pair of workout pants pushed underneath a seat on the floor. 
 
We got off the train and did a few spins, looking for a driver that might be waiting for us. 

Nothing.

We walked down one end of the train walkway - searching for someone that might help.

Nothing.

We walked back down the other end of the train walkway, hoping a driver would be there.

Nothing.

Hmmmmm.  Not looking good, until we followed a crowd of locals down the stairs and headed through a tunnel and then back up and out of the station to the street.  Here we were bombarded with taxi drivers and others wanting to take us to hotels.  We weren't sure what to do next, as we had no idea what our supposed 'pick-up' person looked like.  A moment or so later, a guy with a piece of cardboard with the word "PIKKER" written on it, came up to us.  He explained he was from our tour company and was sent to pick us up.  He appologized for not getting us right from the train, but he had fallen asleep in the car as our travels were delayed for so long.

Phew.  We made it.  In the end, our first class trip to Luxor actually got us to Luxor.  (Perhaps THAT is the first-class part). 

We checked into our hotel, quickly got ourselves sorted and were taken to Karnak and Luxor temples that afternoon.  These were temples that were just off the Nile River and had some of the largest statues/temples in all of Egypt.  We had a fantastic guide this time who told us loads of information and included some funny stories as well.  It was a scorching hot 42 degrees, but we enjoyed visiting these locations. 

We will let the pictures show you the rest. 

01. Entry of Karnak

Hugs and Love,
Dana and Trevor