Over the past few weeks, I have run in five different countries – U.S., Germany, Egypt, Jordan, and England. This morning I slogged around London’s Hyde Park, just across the street from our Marriott lodging. Maintaining this 5,257-day running streak has been tricky of late, utilizing early mornings, treadmills, airport hallways, uneven pathways, and busy streets. I’ve only logged 40 miles in 21-days when normally this would be closer to 65. Plus, my legs have been stiff and sore after miles of touring these wonderous, worldly sights with too many rich meals aboard the Viking riverboat. In many cases, I haven’t had time to get in more than the minimum required mile each morning, keeping with the rules and regulations of the United States Running Streak Association. www.runeveryday.com, of which I’m a proud lifetime member.
This morning I did a little over two miles through the park but got a little turned around trying to get back to our hotel. It was the longest I’ve run in nearly a week, since the 3.1-mile effort along the Dead Sea. This was after yesterday’s 2:30a treadmill mile, lots of steps lugging suitcases through airports followed by London streets, grocery shopping, and a long walk to and from the Ain’t Too Proud to Beg musical theater performance late yesterday. I also didn’t sleep very well last night with some painful bladder issues.
The crowds were unbelievable throughout the West End streets of Piccadilly Circus, as we navigated our way to the Prince Edward Theater. It reminded me of fighting through the foot traffic in Times Square or during Mardi Gras. The pubs and stores were crawling with Brits and tourists out for a pint, fish & chips, special purchase, or just to people watch. I’d been up for twenty-hours with little luck getting a nap on the flight from Amman. Despite our lack of sleep, we still found the show quite captivating and the performers outstanding. It was a fun introduction to the London Theater District. Two more shows yet to go.
While we had unpacked earlier in the day upon arrival, I had turned on live Indy 500 qualifying coverage on SKY TV and once again failed to nod off. It was hard to believe that I could watch from across the pond, but viewership of the local event was blacked out in the Indianapolis area. Time has been confusing these past few weeks with 7-hours difference in Egypt and Jordan that changed to 5-hours upon arrival at Heathrow. By 5a it was light outside, so I got up, took some Advil, and readied myself to run. My legs were stiff and heavy as I made my way to the park where only a few other Sunday morning runners and walkers were on the empty pathways. As “The Streak” sputters on, tomorrow is another day.
On the 5.5-hour flight from Amman to London, I tried to make poetry of this trip of a lifetime experience. In the process, I used a couple of Arabic expressions like “Habibi” (sweetheart), “Yell-a, Yell-a” (hurry), and “tuf-tufs” (golfcarts). Ten flights, five countries, and fifty new friends is the only way to sum up this plane, boat, and bus experience, that included a ride on a camel. We went through so many security checkpoints at airports, museums, and historical sites that we were probably overly exposed to harmful x-rays. Tipping was expected to even go to the toilet and aggressive vendors chased us down the street to the boat wherever we went. All this hassle was worth it in seeing these unbelievable wonders of the world.
Among the surprising guests on the Viking riverboat cruise was a couple from my wife’s small Indiana hometown of Rochester. I thought the pyramids would be the highlight but instead it was Petra. We brought home souvenirs from the Cairo Marketplace, a Carpet Weaving School, a Papyrus painting outlet, and a Mosaic craft center, after observing the workmanship that goes into these unique items. Our last stop will be in London, so expect an encore poem, as well.
Trip of a Lifetime
Trip of a lifetime, Relics galore. With my “Habibi,” The wife I adore.
Seeing the pyramids, A bucket check mark. Ending with my return, To London’s Hyde Park.
“Yell-a, Yell-a,” Always on the go. The X-Ray exposure, Gave us a glow.
Early Mornings, Shorter slogs. Sights to see, No time for blogs.
Cairo’s Marketplace, And times to pray. Museums of yesterday, And Dead Sea mud play.
Tombs and Temples, Pesky flies. But not as aggressive, As the vendor guys.
Pay to pee, Another tip. Planes, Boats, and Bus, An epic trip.
Tuf-tufs, carriages, And even a hump. Modes of transportation, Hard on the rump.
From the scriptures, To the throne. So much ancient history, Carved in stone.
Nubians, Bedouins, Gods and Kings. Crusaders, Romans, Murders And Flings.
Obelisks, Cartouches, Hieroglyphics and Caves. Mosaics, Mummies, Mosques and graves.
Columns, Sculptures, Carpet School Mart. Egyptian cotton. Papyrus art.
Abu Simbel, A Dam good save. On Mount Nebo, Seeking Moses’ grave.
Luxor Temple treasures, Camels, goats, and crocodile. Navigating the locks, All while dining on the Nile.
The Wonders of Egypt, And Jordan’s Petra jewel. Lectured along the way, And even attended school.
The Avenue of the Sphinxes, And the Mother of them all. Viking friends we made, Fond memories to recall.
We saw how big the world can be, And how Rochester small. Structures dating back to B.C., And a modern, seven-story mall.
The time passed quickly, With Stonehenge ahead. Like Egypt’s Great mysteries, “Aliens,” it could be said.
Copyright 2023 johnstonwrites.com
After our long hike through Petra, shopping and afternoon, naptime somehow restored enough energy in our worn out bodies for a visit to the Petra Museum, dinner at Momma’s Kitchen, and a drink on the rooftop bar with our friends from London. I actually got to sleep in an extra hour before I hauled my sore, stiff legs to the treadmill, showered, packed again, gobbled down breakfast, and jumped on the Viking bus.
We drove the scenic route out of Petra for more pictures, stopped briefly at an ancient Nabataean water storage reservoir built into the limestone, and made a couple restroom detours along the King’s Highway on the way to Jerash. Roman ruins in the “City of 1,000 columns” was the attraction. Our group performed Amazing Grace with a local bagpiper and drummer on the ancient stage surrounded by two stories of seats. Lunch was at Ohm Khalil where smoking a Hookah was apparently an option. Friday is the holy day and beginning of the weekend, so folks were dressed in their finery.
We finally arrived at the Amman W Hotel that will lead into 4 more nights at the London Park Street Grand Residence, followed by our final night at the Heathrow Renaissance, all Marriott properties, before flying home. We said good-bye to our fellow Viking tour group at the hotel’s Mesh Restaurant, anticipating another lengthy flight, number eight so far, this time to London after a mile on the treadmill. At last, we were on our own, without the worry of packing for a few days, and fully free to explore Bloody London.
Saying farewell to the last of our Viking companions, we made it through customs and caught the Paddington Station Express and a British hackney to 47 Park Street, our posh digs for the next few days. Sightseeing by double-decker bus, a Thames River cruise, castles, theater, cathedrals, and Stonehenge were on our busy London agenda, as this trip-of-a-lifetime took a Dickens of an English twist.
A brown bag breakfast after a sluggish mile on the treadmill started my Tuesday in Cairo. Everyone had their hand out for a tip, and we were soon out of pounds. By 8:30, we had landed in Amman, Jordan via Royal Jordanian airlines, another first. More dry bread was offered – even the brittle cookie was flavorless. Then, from plane to bus to the Dead Sea Museum with distant views of Jerusalem and Jericho, while our luggage was transported to our room at the Movenpick Hotel, right next to the Dead Sea Marriott.
We quickly changed into our swimsuits and took a golf cart to the resort pool. The shallow end was all sand and the deep end had an infinity view. The surrounding tiles were so hot that you couldn’t grab on to the edge, so support bars were hidden underwater and out of the intense sunshine. After an hour, we took another cart to the Dead Sea beach. Really sharp rocks prevented a gracious entry, so we fell into the water expecting to sink but the salt kept us buoyant for a few photos. They suggested only 20-minutes in the water before “mudding up.” A lifeguard gathered some chunks of salt from the bottom, mixed it with mud in an urn, and scrubbed my body from head to foot. My wife called me “Mud Man,” a reference to an Indy 500 experience years before I met her. (See Post #2248).
Buffets would be the breakfast and dinner options as we moved from the Movenpick – Dead Sea to the Movenpick – Petra. Before we packed to leave that first morning, I finally got in a full 5k along the Dead Sea hotel row. It felt good to be outside on a paved, flat surface and 300-feet below sea level. A falafel sandwich lunch was served in route on the bus. We also had a tour of Mount Nebo, Moses’ stomping grounds, Shobak Castle, built by Crusader King Baldwin I in 1115, and several rocky, Bedouin camps where they tended sheep, camels, and goats.
Excitement was building in anticipation of seeing Petra, located just across the street from the hotel. I once again got up at 5a to use the fitness center treadmill for a 2-mile warm- up for the eight-mile hike. The first half was mostly downhill with lots of uneven pavers through the narrow Siq. Once we got to the Treasury, the Indiana Jones temple, the pathways turned to mostly sand, with the exception of a steep series of steps to get to the best views of Petra.
Our Viking tour group then climbed a less used trail above the theater and by numerous caves and tombs, distinguished only by the stairways to heaven carved over the graves. Tombs often became homes and visa-versa that were cool in the summer and warm in the winter. Carvings in the sandstone, Roman aqueducts, temples destroyed by earthquakes, and vendors trying to make a buck lined the fascinating route we traversed. It all led to a 2-hour long, uphill walk back to the hotel, as I began to regret the treadmill workout earlier that morning.
Two Queens last night instead of a King, in this case referring to sleeping arrangements instead of Egyptian Royalty. It reminded me of the separate security lines at the airport for searching men and women, or the separate Valleys for Royal entombment. Some things never change.
After 432 attempts, I finally solved the daily Wordle on the FIRST attempt – CANOE. I always start with this word since it has three vowels. It was only a matter of time before this would finally happen – maybe the magic of the pyramids?
The National Museum of Egyptian Civilization was a very modern facility. I’m sure that once the Grand Egyptian Museum that we visited on our first day in Cairo is finally completed, it too will be equally spectacular. The highlight of today’s tour was the Royal Mummies. It made me think of the Prince Harry book, The Spare, and how he referred to his special “mummy.” My wife could not stomach the preserved, blackened corpses that are set in glass cases, as we descended into the bowels of the earth. Happy Halloween, early this year.
Up at 5:30a to run with the goats through the streets of Luxor, dodging road apples from the horse drawn carriages. There were few cars on the street and at least, I was on a familiar, smooth asphalt surface. Once again, there was only time for the minimum mile to keep “The Steak” alive. We packed up our Viking stateroom, grabbed a quick breakfast, caught the Viking bus, and got on another flight, our sixth in the last week, this time back to Cairo. I’ve been through so many x-ray machines that I have a certain glow. Tomorrow’s flight is even earlier.
It’s becoming a familiar routine: Run. Shower. Eat. Tour. Eat. Tour. Nap. Drink. Eat. Drink. Sleep. I have not yet been able to absorb the magnitude of historical facts and sights we’ve covered. Plus, I find limited time to write about it all, currently making notes on my phone while waiting at the airport for our flight. Thankfully, there are no vendors past security and a no-tipping sign in the washroom. We’re running out of Egyptian pounds and our next stop, Jordan, is a separate JOD currency.
This afternoon, before we check-in to our room at the Cairo Intercontinental CityStar, is lunch and another museum tour, the National Museum of Egyptian Civilization. We’ll then unpack and check out the shopping complex before dinner. It will be early to bed for a 2:30a wake up alarm and probably a quick run on the fitness center treadmill. Then, it’s off to Jordan, flight number seven, and the next phase of our fantastic journey.
Our last Egyptian Temple, located in Edfu, was also the most complete, after being buried for centuries under the sand. It honors Horus with several giant statues of falcons at the entrance. In ancient Egypt, “the god Horus appeared as a hawk, and was variously the avenger, son of truth, lord of two lands, and god of war.” He was the son of Isis, goddess of marriage, fertility, and magic and Osiris, god of peace and prosperity. As legend has it, Osiris’s brother Seth was jealous of the two, so he tricked Osiris to lie in a coffin that he unexpectedly nailed shut, attempted to drown him and ultimately dismembered him, distributing the body parts all over the world. Isis gathered all the pieces of Osiris together and had him embalmed in preparation for the afterlife. She was magically able to restore his life briefly, during which she became pregnant with Horus. Horus eventually fought Seth to the death in an effort to avenge his father but lost his eye in the process, now a powerful talisman in Egyptian mythology.
We continued to sail our Nile River pathway back towards Cairo, passing through the Esna ship locks shortly after lunch aboard the Ra. As we pack our bags for tomorrow’s disembarkation, my wife continues to negotiate with a vendor tied to the side of our boat. He has thrown several scarves on our top-floor balcony in a last-ditch effort to sell his wares. Unfortunately, one of them fell in the water – the cost of doing business – despite her lack of interest. I told you these vendors were like the hawk, relentless.
For a little variety today, we commuted by boat rather than bus and navigated an Aswan, Nile River inlet to dock near a Nubian Village. School was in session, so my wife distributed our gift of writing supplies. These kids apparently by law have to study in Egyptian schools but preserve their own language and customs through classes in their village. I also got to hold a tiny Nile crocodile and sampled more dry bread. As is the case at each site, we then walk the gauntlet of aggressive vendors, the most unpleasant experience in visiting Egypt.
We next boarded a Viking bus to another small watercraft, once again pestered by persistent vendors along the way. This one carried us to the Agilkia Island Temples of Philae, dedicated to the goddess Isis, built around 370 BC. It was another group of structures relocated through UNESCO funding because of flooding due to the Aswan Dam project. We concluded the morning with a visit to the Papyrus Institute and purchasing a piece of custom artwork depicting an Egyptian wedding scene. On and off and on the bus, we went before drifting off for an unexpected afternoon nap while the Viking Ra took us up-river for yet another Temple.
In this case, it was a short walk to the Kom Ombo Temple, dedicated to two triads of deities: Sobek, his wife Hathor and their child Knonsu; and Horus, his wife Tasenetnofret, and their child Panebtawy. Both Sobek, the Crocodile, and Horus, the Falcon, are two of ancient Egypt’s primary gods. The highlight of this Temple, in my opinion, was the Crocodile Museum, with their mummified remains. It was time to move on to Edfu on this incredible journey.
My wife and I celebrate 9000 days together today, as we cruise down the Nile River. She’s a planner and I’m a counter. In this spirit, it’s also the 5,267th day of my running streak, our 23rd Mother’s Day tomorrow as a couple, and only 37 days until her birthday. Twelve days of this fabulous adventure remain, perhaps the trip of my lifetime. Planning wise, I’ve already taken care of her birthday request, but the landscaper planted the wrong palm tree – not a foxtail. I hope I can get this straightened out but unfortunately, he doesn’t speak English. It was supposed to match the one he installed next door – but doesn’t! I should have left it to the planner because she can’t count on me.
Ramses II, whose tomb we walked through yesterday in the Valley of the Kings and his beloved queen Nefertari, mummified in her elaborate resting place in the other Royal Valley, are once again presented larger than life in the giant structures outside Abul Simba Temple. It was at least 100-degrees as we walked down the unshaded pathway to their separate entrances. These remarkable structures would not exist today without funding from UNESCO (United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization). They now look over Lake Nasser rather than forever submerged and out-of-sight, its intricate carvings washed away by the underwater currents. They might never have been found in their original location if not for the young boy, Abu Simbel. His sharp eyes and youthful curiosity spotted the top of their heads, buried under the sand, and reported it to archaeologists. The popular tourist site is therefore named after him. The monuments were eventually uncovered and moved to the present higher elevation location.
It was a lot of money, work, and hassle to see these magnificent religious, works of art. Two bus rides, roundtrip Egyptair flights, along with numerous security screenings, a long walk in the brutal heat, admission tickets, and fighting off the vicious vendors, much worse than attack of wild dogs, were required to visually admire them. I was forced to buy a belt to keep my shorts from falling down. The belt I brought with me on the trip fell apart when the screws fell out this morning. Negotiations lingered on far too long for my liking. My wife bought an alabaster camel, miniature pyramid, zebra mask (her high school mascot), and a Terracotta baking dish.
The long, hot day ended with more tips and another bus ride back to the Ra. We have a spacious suite on the top level with a short walk to the restaurant. This was fortunate on a night when we were dragging, with another early start looming and more temples, tombs, and pillars to explore after another morning run. Farewell, Abu Simbel.
I’ve yet to board a true train on this adventure with the exception of perhaps the Tampa Airport terminal loop, but I’ve been in cars, taxis, busses, river boats, motorboats, planes, golf carts (tuf-tufs), and even on a camel. In the case of the last, I’d rather walk a mile. My wife was comfortable on its back while I held on for dear life. It was an actual Hump Day – Mike, Mike, Mike!
It’s now been over a week since we left home, while a palm tree was planted in our backyard and the ceiling trays are being painted. The cleaning crew will be in next, a friend is watering our plants, and the pool people have done their job -a lot of activity for an empty house, as the electric meter keeps spinning. Tally, of course, is at Schnauzerville, wondering why she isn’t getting Ham Time.
Two more weeks to go before our return. We’ve spent one night in Lufthansa Business Class, two-nights in Cairo at the Sheraton Casino, and 4-nights on the Viking Ra riverboat cruising the Nile, with three more to go. Then, we’ll pack our bags and fly to Amman, Jordan for a couple of days on the Dead Sea at the Movenpick Resort and a visit to Petra. A last night in Cairo will be at the Airport Intercontinental before the flight to London for our final six days of exploration from the Marriott Vacation Club.
The food is very spicy with lots of dry bread and soups. Aswan is the spice capital of Egypt. Fava and Garbanzo beans are key ingredients. I’m not a fan because of the flavors, even with bread that has always been a favorite of mine. Fortunately, the Viking chef provides us with options like burgers, omelets, steak, and pasta. My wife, of course, did buy an Egyptian cookbook at the airport gift shop.
So far, things have run smoothly except for the two-hour delay at the airport that pushed back our tour of the famous Abul Simbel Temple and eliminated any time for lunch. There’s a 31-to-1 conversion rate from U.S. dollars to Egyptian Pounds and a need for more ATMs. We do have an excellent tour guide that will continue with us into Jordan. Once she gets us on the plane to London, we’re on our own. The biggest hassles have been the persistent vendors and having to pay for toilet paper or to pee.
