It's a half hour drive to Daraw, and the camel market is down narrow dirt roads. The driver and Mister chat on the way, and he is told about how people are adding their own "speed bumps" to the road. It is dangerous for drivers, but since the police are not doing anything about it (the revolution excuse) he has to slow down so as not to scrape. The driver was a guide, but with no tourism, he is now just driving people around. As we enter the "town" of Daraw, even the driver has to ask for directions from people sitting in their shops. How can you hide camels? Well, the walls lining each street really obstruct your vision.
The car passes through a gate and parks next to small trucks waiting to transport the newly purchased camels to their new owners.
The market is a large walled area, and the driver and Mister walk through a covered area with camel buyers and sellers sitting drinking tea and smoking water pipes in the shade.
Mister is the only non-local. The camels are just standing there, some hobbled by having a front leg tied up, but most just standing or sitting in small groups. Handlers are holding ropes and halters as buyers examine the camels (they check the teeth to determine age, like horses) and haggle for the best price. Some negotiations sound very heated, but the driver tells Mister it is normal and not a fight.
It is quiet and doesn't smell that bad. Cattle auctions in the US are worse than this. Mister walks into the crowds as the driver sits under the shade. Mister says he wouldn't have been surprised to see a manger, the setting puts you back in time. Without the occasional view of telephone poles in the distance, it could be thousands of years ago.
Mister takes pictures and everyone there accepts him. No hassles, no problems. The faces are just amazing.
The driver finds him and they get back in the car and head back to Aswan.
I get up thinking I'll go shopping, but am unable to get the information that I need regarding the purchase of an Egyptian rug, so I go back up to the room and go back to bed. Sleep sounds nice too. I get up a little later and go down and have a wonderful visit with Hanan and her sister who is in town to vote in the election for President. In Egypt, you have to travel to the city you are from to cast your ballot. They vote and then are marked by having their finger dipped in purple ink so that they are unable to vote again. Everything is going smoothly with the election -- no hassles or intimidation going on at all. It is their first election in 30 years and the people are all very determined to share how they feel about it and who they are voting for. We visit for awhile and then I return to the room to wait for Mister. He returns and we pack, take our bags downstairs, and decide to grab some lunch. We go around the corner again to a little place called Farahat where we are the only customers in the restaurant for the second time in two days. We have some baba ganoush, salad, and Mister has pigeon soup.
After lunch, we go back into the market and are fortunate to visit a bread bakery (of course it involved baksheesh) and we're taken into the back to see the whole process. Between the ovens and Aswan -- goodness, it was hot in there.
It's time to head for the train and so we go to the hotel to pick up the bags and Hanan is just leaving to go visit her mother, so offers to give us a ride to the train station so that we don't have to call a cab. She is amazing and we will remember this hotel and the wonderful service we received for a very long time. The train is on time -- WOW -- and we are on our way to Luxor.
Mister calls and books a room in a hostel and arranges for us to be picked up at the station. On the ride, we watch out the windows at the farmers at work -- we are shocked by how hard they are working in this heat and by the way they do it all by hand.
A tractor is a very odd thing to see -- donkeys, water buffalo, etc. are a more frequent sight. The farms are immaculate -- such a difference from everything else in this country and we sight many different types of crops. I am fascinated by the date palms that line the farms -- they are LOADED with dates -- looks to be a bumper crop.
Sugar cane and rice are also large crops along the route. We arrive in Luxor and are met by the driver holding a sign that says "Cleopatra", the name of the hostel. It is a long drive over to the west bank of the Nile where the hotel is, and is very rural compared to the east bank where the bulk of the city is. We check in and Nasser, the hostel owner, tells us to head up to the roof deck for a late dinner. He helps us set up the following three days of tours and we work out a price. Then we are joined by Ragab, the guide, who already has a group for a tour tomorrow. The plans change and we renegotiate. The group turns out to be 3 American college girls staying at the hostel.
We invite Nasser and Ragab to eat with us and visit for awhile. I ask for a cold vegetable dish and/or fruit. These have been rare in Egypt. The meal is cooked and served by Mahmoud, Nasser's nephew, and he visits a bit as well.
Everyone makes you feel perfectly comfortable in the hostels we've visited, like it is their home. It's time for showers and bed -- very busy day tomorrow.