Brazil 2025 part 3

    I always make notes in a journal at the end of the day, and this is what my first sentence was for today. Jaguar heaven this morning! Can it really be better than yesterday?

We have not gone far on the main river when we experience a phenomenon that I will never forget. Fish begin jumping out of the river and one of them lands in the lap of the Indian woman. She jumps up screaming and runs over to my side of the boat. I get down and while trying to capture the flopping fish I keep reassuring her, (okay I am laughing too), that it is just a fish. She finally settles down, and I manage to grab our uninvited guest and toss it overboard. In the meantime, several other fish have landed in our boat. A crewman that is with us this morning is busy grabbing them and tossing them back. I know I should not have laughed as the poor woman really was freaked out. I am fairly certain I was not the only one laughing at her expense.

   We have some good bird sightings this morning before we join a few boats watching Marcela as she is getting ready to cross the narrow tributary we are in. Holy smokes! No wonder Marcela slept all day, yesterday. Her belly is huge! This beauty is either very pregnant, or she stuffed herself to the point of bursting. It does not take Marcela long to reach the other side and then she disappears into the woods.

We continue exploring and twenty minutes after leaving Marcela we cross paths with Patricia and Makala walking near the water. Patricia soon vanishes into the brushy cover, but Makala decides to sit down and stare right back at us. He soon becomes bored and heads in the same direction Mom did. Well, that was cool.

Our driver turns down another channel on orders from Fred and in a few minutes, we find Marcela sleeping in a tree! I guess that swim and short overland hike wore her out. Fred tells us this is one of her favorite trees. The guides obviously know the habits of the individual jaguars very well.

This place is a labyrinth of channels off the main river, and I have no idea where we are or where we have been. I do know that we find two river otters in the offshoot of the main river we are exploring now. These otters are not cute in my opinion. To me they look flat out mean. This couple do entertain us with their playful antics. They crawl up the muddy bank and slide around in the mud, then go down into the river and splash around. Suddenly the otters go on alert. Fred sees what they are upset about as he spots Ousado emerging from some trees on the other side of the river. Ousado approaches the water and is preparing to cross when he espies the otters. He stops and intently watches the otters.

I think all of us are holding our breath as Fred quietly relates to us that jaguar fear river otters. A group of otters will not hesitate to attack a jaguar and if you could see their teeth, you would understand why. After what seems like an eternity, Ousado backs up and takes refuge on the riverbank. The otters seem to accept his retreat and start playing again. Eventually the otters swim down the river and we follow them for a while. They can stay under the water a long time and boy can they swim fast! What an interesting encounter.

    Our boat is speeding off again and this time we are taken to a pair of jaguars in mating mode. Typical cat romance, snarling, lashing out with their paws, nothing that would suggest they wanted anything to do with each other. We sit here with several other tourists watching the jaguars’ antics but the two do not mate.  Regardless, a great way to cap off the morning!

It is a relief to be back on the airconditioned riverboat as it is sunny and very hot today. We are served another great meal. These chefs are something else. Fred regals us with stories of things that have happened with other clients of his which is very entertaining. I wonder if the fish encounter will be told to future clients.

    We are off at three o’clock, but the Indian couple decide to stay on the boat. Maybe it is too hot for them, and it is stifling hot. I am wearing a neck cooler, and I am so glad I decided to buy one and give it a try. I have no idea how it works but after soaking it in ice water, it stays cool for about three hours. I do not deal with heat very well and this device has allowed me to stay comfortable.

We find a jaguar grooming himself on a sandy beach. It turns out to be Ousado. Fred says Ousado is about two miles from where we saw him this morning. Fred tells us that this makes him feel more positive about Ousado’s health since he has traveled that far in a fairly short time. My question is how the old jaguar can stand being out in the direct sunlight?

    We meander down different channels, some quite shallow. When we are in the shallow tributaries, Fred asks us to all to move to front seats so the motor will sit higher in the water. This will keep the motor from getting clogged with the water plants. We go back to check on the mating couple which have stayed in the same area we saw them at this morning. There is no shade for the boat, so we are at the mercy of the late afternoon sun. Yikes, have I mentioned it is really hot? The two jaguars move around some, still making threatening noises and gestures towards one another. We move on after twenty minutes giving up hope that the couple will actually mate. When the speedboat is moving the breeze helps tremendously in cooling us down, so we are all happy to leave.

Fred wants to check on Marcella again. I think Marcela must be one of Fred’s favorite jaguars. After we have been there a few minutes, Marcela sits up on the big limb she was sleeping on. Everyone, (a few other boats are here), watch intently in the hope we will see her ambush the caiman that poked his head up not far from Marcela’s perch. Marcela looks at the reptile and then lays back down. What a tease she is!

Another beautiful sunset, great meal, and entertainment from our versatile guide.

BRAZIL 2025 PART 2

    We are up early, 4:30, and eating breakfast at 5:30. This will be our routine for the days we are on the boat. By the way, our boat travels at night so we are at a different place this morning from where it was moored last night. We load up on the speed boat at six a.m. and motor down the Rio Cuiaba river.

   A myriad of birds, caiman, and trees blooming in vibrant reds, pinks, and purples nearly overwhelm me. Fred is amazing on his ability to spot and identify every bird we see, also the trees and flowers. We have not been on the boat very long when it suddenly speeds up and we roar down the river. Since the other people in our group experienced the sudden acceleration yesterday morning, they know what is up and Paul and I have a pretty good idea too.

     We come upon a boat sitting still in the middle of the river and when we pull up beside it, there on the shore is a beautiful jaguar. Our first jaguar! I am pretty sure my mouth drops open and my heart definitely speeds up. The big male, who Fred identifies as Tomas, is busy eating a bird. A paltry snack for this big cat but Fred says even though the jaguar’s main prey are caimans they never pass up an opportunity for a meal. We sit and watch Tomas devour his big kill. He spends more time plucking feathers and spitting them out than finding a piece of meat to eat. When Tomas finishes his snack, he stands up and strolls into the brush and trees, disappearing from our sight. Tomas never even looked towards the boats that arrived to watch him dine, which tells you how acclimated they are to humans.

   We have learned from this experience that the guides share a jaguar sighting with other guides, which is good. There are so many side channels that the odds would go way down in seeing a jaguar if no one shared their good luck at spotting the beautiful cat.

     We head on down or maybe up the river, and I swear we have not left Thomas fifteen minutes ago and our boat is roaring down the river again. Here is the bad part of everyone knowing about a jaguar siting. When we arrive, there are probably twenty boats watching a female jaguar as she is hunting a caiman. We never see the caiman she is after but the big cat will splash into the water, then go up on the shore, walk along the shore a little way before going back into the water. More boats have arrived and are jostling for a better spot which becomes very irritating. The jaguar seems to have given up on her quest for the caiman, as she walks into some dense bushes that engulf her. Our boat and the others proceed in the direction she headed and sure enough the big cat comes back into the open. The jaguar shows no inclination of continuing her hunt. Fred asks us if we have had enough. We all agree we are ready to leave the chaos behind. There were probably thirty boats by the time we left.   

As we cruise down the river, Fred, and our boat driver, simultaneously call out “Jaguar.” Are you kidding me. I must be dreaming, how in the world have we seen three jaguars within an hour or so? Fred immediately knows this male jaguar because he is wearing a radio collar and he has quite a story behind him. Ousado was rescued after a devastating wildfire in this area in 2022. Ousado had been burned badly particularly his feet. I think Fred told us he was under human care for a year and then returned to the wild. He is the only jaguar with a radio collar.  Ousado is ten years old which is old for a jaguar particularly one that went through the trauma that he did. Fred notices that he is missing a back toe which is still raw. When Ousado stands up we see how bony he is and that he is walking slowly. Fred shakes his head and wonders out loud how much longer the old cat will survive. I would have to agree with our guides assessment.  We are joined by two other boats which after the last jaguar encounter is a marked improvement.  As we are leaving Ousado, other boats are speeding our way so we timed our departure just right.

    Our boat driver takes off and soon we have joined several boats that are clustered near a tree growing next to the shoreline. This is crazy. There is a jaguar sleeping in the tree though she is so hidden that all you can see is her head and front paws. All the staring human eyes and boat noise does not even wake her up. Fred identifies her as Marcela. The jaguars in the identification project are named and identified by the markings on their heads or unique spots on their sides. We stay for a bit to see if the snoozing lady will wake up and do something to entertain us but all we get for the time we are there is seeing her open her eyes once.

    Are you ready?  We are speeding away again and soon join a few other tourists in watching a mother and her big cub swimming in the river. How amazing to see cats leisurely swimming. Jaguars often choose to swim in the river to travel to another place rather than go overland. The pair swim near the edge of the river for quite some distance and their entourage of speed boats filled with humans follow slowly on the other side of the river. When the pair emerge from the water, we get a good look at them and see that the male cub is nearly as big as his mama. The cub named Makala has what looks like teeth puncture wounds on his hips. Who knows what put them there but maybe a male jaguar?  Patricia, his mother, slowly ambles into the cover of trees and brush with Makala not far behind although he is more curious about we humans and stops to look at us occasionally.

It is time to head back to the boat for lunch and as we arrive there is a family of capybara standing on the beach not far from where our riverboat is moored. Our boat driver takes us near the rodent family so we can snap some photos of the huge, odd-looking creatures. We have seen many of these giant rodents already, but the lighting and the little ones make for a good photo op.

Once on the boat we enjoy a wonderful lunch served buffet style. We have a couple hours after lunch to rest up. If anyone would have told us that we would see six individual jaguars within a few hours on the river I think all of us would have laughed out loud! I still have trouble believing our good fortune.   

    We leave for our afternoon exploration at three o’clock. It is hot, in the 90’s, but it is cloudy which certainly helps. Fred wants to go back and check on Marcela to see if she is still sleeping in the tree. Marcela has left the tree and is now napping on an embankment a few yards from the tree she had been in. Again, Marcela does not move or even open her eyes. I wish I could sleep that well. We do not stay long as there is way too many boats filled with patient people hoping the lazy jaguar will wake up and entertain them.

Our boat driver takes us down a small channel and we have not gone far when we join a few boats watching a female jaguar walking on the sandy beach. The lovely lady lays down but after a few minutes she decides that she is thirsty and walks down to the river to drink. Watching any cat lap water is fascinating to me as I do not see how they ever manage to get enough water to satisfy them. There are more boats arriving all the time, so we say farewell to the seventh jaguar we have seen today. Paul and I just shake our heads at this unbelievable day in Brazil. I guess the misery of getting here was worth it. Thanks for sticking with getting us here Paul!

   Fred decides we need to check on Marcela one last time and we find her in the same area, and she is still zonked out. Because there are a lot less boats we are able to see all of this slumbering cat. Marcela will probably start prowling once the sun sets and all these bothersome tourists are gone. We enjoy another gorgeous sunset before going back to the riverboat.

    Once we are on the boat, we all head to our rooms to clean up before supper. Our cabin is much like the room we had at the airport. A bed with room for luggage underneath it, a small wardrobe to hang clothes, and a bathroom. It is small but we will not be spending much time in here anyway.

   We head upstairs to the dining area and Fred is already playing the guitar and singing. Yes, our guide is multi-talented. He often sings popular American songs in English of course, but occasionally sings a Brazilian song in Portuguese. Fred then presents his “Fred talks” where he has photos he has taken on a computer about the animals he is educating us about for that night. I think tonight it was on capybaras. Fred also has a camera with those long lenses and his photos are stunning.  A wonderful meal is just the icing on the cake of this incredible, unbelievable day!

Heading to Brazil 2025

   Almost two years ago Paul and I shook hands to seal our agreement that we were finished with international travel as we headed back home from Egypt. Now we are heading for the Manhattan airport to catch our first flight on our way to Brazil. Why did we break our no travel pact? Because Paul found a tour that basically guaranteed that we would see Jaguars. Well heck, the one big cat beside snow leopards that we have not seen. After a few hems and haws from me, the decision was made to go.

    Ah yes, the wonderful part of any trip is the journey to get there. Pure sarcasm on my part. Our flight from Manhattan is delayed by an hour. No problem since we have an eight-hour layover in Dallas. We make it to Dallas and after a few hours, passengers begin to line up to board the plane that will take us to Sao Paulo. Ten minutes before actual boarding time an announcement is made telling us our flight has been cancelled. I guess since the crew had not gotten on the plane yet should have been a clue something was wrong. The weather is fine so it must be a problem with the plane, no explanation is given for the cancellation.

   While we are standing in line for hotel vouchers, Paul is already reaching out to Exito, the people that booked our flights. A young man from Brazil happens to be standing next to us and he asks us about the hotel choices that have come up on his phone app. Paul checks his phone and he too has the hotel voucher on his app. We tell the young man that none of the choices are great, but we will go with La Quinta over Motel 6 and Super 8. Ed goes with our decision for his hotel choice too. We also get meal vouchers you can use at the airport worth twelve dollars which makes our new acquaintance laugh saying you might be able to buy a cup of coffee for that amount. Ed gets on his phone and connects with the hotel who has a shuttle in route to pick us and other passengers up. Paul continues to work with Exito and now has a representative from the tour company making suggestions too. We have more confusion as we cannot find the shuttle once it announces it has arrived but Ed who is conversing with the driver realizes we need to go down one level.

   On the way to the hotel, Paul continues to correspond via What’s App, with Abigal our tour operator and Exito. We make it to the hotel, and before going to our room we make plans with Ed to catch the same shuttle in the morning back to the airport.

   I take my glasses off when we get to the room and hear something hit the floor. For crying out loud, one of my lenses fell out. Well, this is why you bring an extra pair. By the time I am ready for bed Paul and the people helping him have booked us on a later flight to Cuiaba that will still allow us to catch our private flight to Port Jofre with the rest of our group. I forgot that if our flight had not been cancelled, we would have been spending the night in Cuiaba before taking the final flight to Porte Jofre.

   I wake up early to find Paul on the phone again chatting with our tour and flight coordinators. Guess what? Our departure time was moved back in the middle of the night so a new set of plans must be made! Upon hearing what it entails I tell Paul maybe we should just go home. Paul considers this but decides we should try to follow through. I reluctantly agree. The new plan is that we will get to Sao Paulo in the wee hours of the morning, spend about three hours in an airport hotel, catch our Cuiaba flight, then be transported by a private driver and a guide to Porte Jofre. We darn well better see a jaguar!                      

    After eating a typical hotel breakfast, we join Ed and other passengers on the shuttle that takes us back to the Dallas airport. Our flight is delayed this morning due to heavy rain, but we do get off the ground around noon. Ed has joined us while we wait to board the plane. At one point he needs to go see if he can get his connecting flight to Cuiaba straightened out and asks if we will watch his carry-on luggage. Of course we will. When Ed comes back, he gives us a big box of Lindt mini-candy bars. We protest that we should be treating him for all his help. How kind is that?

    Paul and I opted for Premium Economy and boy is it worth it. We have two seats on the right side of the plane and our friend Ed is on the left side. Glad we were not in the middle where there are three seats. We arrive in Sao Paulo at 1:30 in the morning but our checked bag which is packed with trail cameras for the people that run the Jaguar Identification Project does not show up. There are several passengers who have luggage that does not come on the carousel. A young woman comes up to me and asks if our bag is a duffle. Yes, it is. She tells us that they found their duffle bag in the lost luggage area. Someone told them that the baggage handlers do not put them on the conveyer belt since they tend to fall off. I walk over to lost luggage and sure enough our duffle bag is sitting there. Thank goodness for that thoughtful person to let us know or we might have never found it.

   Guess who has been waiting for us all this time while we were looking for our luggage? Our guardian angel Ed. He and another Brazilian who works for American Airlines, walk us to our hotel which is in another terminal. Along the way Ed tells us where we will have to check our luggage in and points out the gate where our flight leaves from in the morning. A good thing they escorted us as we would never have found this hotel that is tucked away in a corner of the airport and at this time of morning there is hardly anyone around to help you. After our personal escorts make sure we have a room they leave to go to the other airport hotel. We enter our room at three in the morning. The first thing I do is hit the shower before laying down in hopes of a little sleep.

   We are up at 5:30 and out of the small room by six o’clock. It is a good thing as we walk into a mad house. People are everywhere. We go to the area where we think we need to check in our duffle bag, but Paul cannot get the woman who is standing at the entrance of the aisle to pay any attention to him. People keep pushing in front of him but eventually he gets confirmation on where to go. After getting the bag checked in, we proceed to our gate. Paul has the tickets on his phone, and he gets through just fine. He gives me the phone and for some reason my ticket is refused. The women running the gate will not let Paul back out and she points and tells me to go over there. Over where? I am freaking out that I may have to go back to the check-in area but Paul sees the line she is talking about and walks down to show me where it is.  I join lots of other passengers whose ticket codes were also rejected. I get through this check point with no trouble. Obviously, a rejected code is not unusual.

  Once inside we find the gate where we will be boarding and Paul goes off to buy himself a sprite. After sitting there awhile I am astonished to look up and see Ed. He tells me he wanted to make sure we found our gate. Paul shows up and we visit with Ed until it is time to line up to for boarding. I still find the kindness of this young man unbelievable. I will add that on our last trip to Brazil almost 20 years ago, our connecting flight out of Sao Paulo was cancelled. As we were talking about what we should do (no cell phones then) a young man came up to us and asked if we were the Miller’s. It turns out he was our guide, so he took over and solved our problem! What are the odds?

    We boarded our flight on time, but we are not sitting together, guess we were lucky they had 2 seats left on this flight. Once we reach Cuiaba, our duffle bag shows up, our guide, Zainia, is waiting for us and she takes us to the vehicle where Reece, the driver, packs up our luggage. Reece drives us to a barbeque restaurant where the waiters bring all kinds of meat to your table and slice off what you want at your table. You go through a buffet for the side dishes. I do not eat much but what I have is excellent. Paul tries small pieces of just about all the meat except the fish.

   We take off on our four-hour drive with most of the road trip on the Transpantaneira highway which is a very rough dirt road with around a hundred or so bridges. The last time we were here they were all wooden, but many have been replaced with modern bridges. These are small bridges. We see cayman, lots of birds, horses, cattle, and a few deer on our drive while we listen to Zainia tell us about what we are seeing along the way and some of her experiences as a guide.

Once we reach Port Jofre, we wait 20 minutes for our guide Fred to come pick us up in the speed boat. We see a hyacinth macaw plus other birds while we are waiting. The other six members of the group are also in the boat. We say thank you to Zainia and Reece then get on the speed boat. The boat driver takes us to the river boat where we will spend the next six nights. I assume that Paul and I will get off with our luggage but Fred says no, we are going with them to explore a river channel. We meet the group, a couple from Colorado, two more couples from South Africa but one of those couples are from India who moved to South Africa. The three men and the woman from Colorado have cameras with unbelievably long lenses on them!

    We see birds everywhere and Fred knows every one of them. No jaguars but we do have a gorgeous sunset. Paul and I are exhausted but we enjoy the excellent evening meal and find Fred very personable and knowledgeable. We visit with the other people in the group a bit but excuse ourselves early to go to bed as we are exhausted!

     We are up shortly after five and do a bit more packing. We go up to the dining room for an early breakfast and drop our tip for the ship crew in the box. This is one place that OAT does not take care of the tip. Upon returning to the room, we walk through the cabin and bathroom to double check that we did not overlook any of our things. We set our two large suitcases out in the hallway and lug our carry-on baggage to the observation deck. We are loading onto our coach by 7:30 and leaving this wonderful ship and the relaxing time we spent on her behind. Hussein tells us that the crew has four hours to get everything prepared for the next OAT group to board the Aida. This OAT group will be doing our adventure in reverse, sailing down the Nile from Aswan to Esna.

    On our drive to Aswan High Dam, (finished in 1970), Hussein talks about the displacement of thousands of Nubian people, (Hussein is Nubian), due to the Dam’s construction and the forming of Lake Nasser, which is named after the man who was president of Egypt at that time. Naturally this was an extremely traumatic event for the Nubian people and anyone else who lived on the land that was inundated by the lake.

    Our guide says the positive elements of the construction of the dam is that the annual Nile flood can now be controlled by humans. One other plus of the dam is that it generates a tremendous amount of hydroelectric power. Hussein also explains that the dam’s turbines are why there are no crocodiles in the Nile below the dam which is where we were sailing, (is that good or bad news?). The crocodiles cannot pass through the turbines as according to Hussein they would be chopped to bits. Hussein gives us the negative aspect of the dam’s construction, which is that controlling the annual flood has decreased the fertility of the riverside agricultural lands. This is because the rich silt ends up in the canals and reservoirs instead of being deposited on the farmland. The farmers have had to turn to artificial fertilizer which is no substitute for the rich nutrients found in the silt.

    When we arrive at Aswan High Dam, we see military presence here. I think this is where a soldier walks around the bus inspecting it before we are allowed to drive onto the dam and sees me looking at him through the window. The soldier gives me a big smile and a wink before he continues his inspection. There are two soldiers sitting on a wall along the dam road and if I remember correctly there was a tank at the dam’s entry point with a man looking out the top opening of the tank turret armed with a rifle. This is not the first time we have encountered the military; we have seen towers manned by soldiers with rifles, at the edge of towns. Most of us already know not to take photos of anything military but Hussein reminds us of this rule.

    We leave the bus and Hussein points out the restrooms and observation areas where you can look over the lake, see the Nile, and the original Aswan dam that was built by the British in 1902.  Paul and I take a quick look at the views and then go buy some potato chips from the vendor that is located nearby. We both have been craving a salty snack! All of us are back on the bus after a short time as truthfully, there isn’t a lot to see here but also because it is chilly and windy this morning.

    Hussein tells us that we have a four hour drive to Abu Simbel but we will stop at the midway point for a bathroom break. Once we are on the road, Hussein plugs in his phone and somehow this allows us to use our electronic devices. I don’t understand how that works but I know it is astounding that I can email a friend, play words with friends, and read on my tablet while traveling down the Egyptian highway in the middle of the Sahara Desert!

    There is not much to see along our route except sand but I still look out the window now and then. I do a double take when I see irrigation systems sitting in the desert. I point the rigs out to Paul, and he is as puzzled as I am. Paul asks Hussein why there are pivot irrigation machines out here. Hussein laughs and says because they are going to grow crops like wheat and corn. Our guide tells us we will see the growing crops in the Sahara farther down the road. What? But sure enough, we later come upon lush fields of wheat or barley, and corn fields that are dried down and ready to harvest. All of this is being done by the army/government. The ability to grow crops has been made possible because of canals bringing water into the desert thus the need for the irrigation systems in order to water the crops. It still does not answer the question we have on how you get any crop to take root in sand. Hussein admits he does not know but surmises that there must be a more compact soil just beneath the sand. Wonders never cease!

    At the rest stop, our group leaves the bus to use the restrooms. The water closets as they are called here, are surprisingly clean. Hussein gives us time to stretch our legs before we load up and continue our journey.

    We drive by an area where a stone wall has been constructed with a barb wire fence built on top of it. The combination stone wall and barb wire fence, I would estimate is eight or ten feet high. Hussein explains that this is another army project which the government refers to as a ranch. There is a lot of irrigated areas which are vivid green with growing crops, quite a contrast to the desert outside the wall. We see no sign of any animals, but they could easily be out there as we are only seeing a small part of the government “ranch.”  Hussein says the government will not answer the question that the people have asked on why they need such a barrier around the property. The wire that tops the fence is bent outward, which would keep anyone on the outside from crawling over the fence. Weird.

    As we draw close to Abu Simbel, Hussein gets on the microphone and says “Guys, you have stayed in two five-star hotels so far and although this hotel is nice you cannot expect it to be like those in Cairo and Luxor.” He reiterates this warning to us as we drive up to the hotel, telling us not to be too disappointed and try not to compare this place to our prior hotels. There is a stack of bricks piled up not far from the hotel drop off point which makes one wonder if there is still some construction going on. I tell Jennifer that I do not care at all if this hotel is not as fancy as our prior hotels but I do hope it is clean.

    When we follow Hussein through the door of the Seti Abu Simbel hotel, it does not take long before we realize we have been duped! Somebody in our group exclaims, “you were kidding us.”  Hussein is laughing as he got us to swallow his warning about the hotel, hook, line, and sinker! The rascal. Well played Hussein. This place is incredible. The hotel’s architecture is unique in that there are arches built off the main building which give you a cool view of the swimming pools, and rooms. It is stunning.

    We eat lunch in the spacious restaurant before we go to our rooms. Our large room is gorgeous, and has a cool mural painted on the wall above our bed. There is a balcony that looks out on Lake Nasser affording us a beautiful view. Once we have halfway organized our belongings, Paul and I walk the grounds of the hotel. We admire the lake views, the colorful bushes that are blooming in front of the rooms, the swimming pools, and well-kept grounds. It is too bad that we are only here for one night.

Slide show of various aspects of our hotel. We loved this hotel.

     At 4:30, Paul and I make our way back to the main part of the hotel. We are gathering in a small room to listen to a Nubian man whose family was one of the thousands that were forced off their land for the Aswan project. He is a well-spoken man who talks about the trauma to his family, he was very young, being uprooted from their land and moved to the desert. He remembers that they had to leave some of their cattle behind because there was not enough room on the boat. The man talks about the place the government moved them to which literally was in the desert with no grazing for the cattle. The houses were tiny and it was impossible to live the way they had before.

    Many of his family, (including this man) among others left and took jobs in other places like Cairo or even other countries. Those that stayed did make the uninhabitable area habitable through hard work and by getting water to their new home via canals. I do not remember if the government dug the canals or how that happened. They turned the desert into a viable place to live which is something to be admired.

   I believe that our entertainer was working in another country, when the president, (Assisi I think), put out a plea for the displaced Nubians to come back. The president promised them they could settle near the same area that they had been removed from all those years ago. Our speaker came home and ended up working with the people that manage the Ramses II Temple which is located by Abu Simbel.  At the end of his talk the man plays Nubian instruments and sings some Nubian songs for us. He has a nice voice, and it was a pleasure listening to him sing. I probably have some of the facts wrong and I know I have forgotten other things the man related to us but you can get an idea of what these people went through.

    After the Nubian’s talk, we follow Hussein to the bus and take a short ride to the temple that draws people to Abu Simbel. Tonight, we are going to experience the sound and light show that takes place at Ramses II temple. Hussein tells us that in his opinion this is the best sound and light show to experience in Egypt. We have to walk maybe a quarter of a mile to reach the bleachers and I am glad that I have my fleece on under my jacket. It is quite chilly this evening. It is dark by the time we get to the temple and Hussein points out a spectacular extra which is Venus, Jupiter, and Mars, in a descending line in the night sky. It turns out that Hussein has an avid interest in astronomy.  Our guide continues to amaze and surprise us.

    We have front row seats for the show and after we are settled on the benches, Hussein passes out recorders that will narrate the show for us in English. The sound and light show is spectacular with thundering music and animated scenes depicting the life of Ramses II and Queen Nefertari flashing across the temples, (there is a temple for Nefertari also).  On our walk back to the bus, Hussein stops at one place to point out different constellations in the sky. This was a great experience and a wonderful evening.

     Visiting the temples in daylight, driving to Aswan, visiting the spice market.

     Before we leave the Marriott, I should point out that this hotel has a lot of history behind it. The main area where we eat breakfast and where the reception desks are located among other things was built in 1869. The ruler of Egypt at that time, Ismail Pasha, ordered the construction of a Royal Palace to use for celebrating the finish of building the Suez Canal. He copied many elements in this Palace that were found in Napoleon III and Empress Eugenie’s Palace as he wanted the Empress to be comfortable in Egypt when she visited. Why Paul, Jennifer, or I did not take photos of the inside of this Palace or of the small courtyard in front of it I do not know. You will just have to take our word for it that the interior of the Palace was beautiful with its period furniture and grand staircases. The small courtyard was pretty too. The Royal Palace changed hands numerous times over the years until Marriott purchased it in the 1980’s. They added two towers that stand on either side of the Palace where guests stay.

    We board the bus this morning and on our way to the airport we are going to visit a historic Mosque.  While driving down the thoroughfare, our driver brakes to a stop and begins backing up. Everyone in our group is a bit stunned, and I hear murmurs like “what is he doing” and I think I say out loud, “why is he backing up”? Hussein begins laughing and informs us that the driver thought we were going straight to the airport and hence he missed the turn that leads to the Mosque. So, in this country, I guess it is okay to back up fifty or so yards to get to the turn that you drove by. The road we are on is a main avenue but the traffic is light compared to what we have seen and oddly enough I do not remember anyone honking their displeasure at us.

    The bus driver parks on a busy street, and we must walk down a narrow street to the mosque. This mosque has been historically preserved and is not used for worship. My main memory from this experience is that Hussein has us sit down on some chairs that are arranged in a half-circle while he talks about the history of the mosque. There are three half-grown kittens that decide people’s laps look much more comfortable than the floor they had been lying on or the kitties are hoping for something to eat. Unfortunately, the kittens are constantly scratching themselves, (can you say fleas), and their eyes and noses are a bit runny. Needless to say, no one wants them on their laps. The felines jumped up on four or five members of our group, who pushed them off their legs or laps quickly. The rest of us were not selected for the kittens’ attentions I am thankful to say. Poor little things, but the last thing one needs is a bite from a dog or a cat in Egypt or in other foreign countries where access to a rabies shot is not going to be easy to obtain.

    On our walk back to the bus there is another Mosque where worship is held that we are going to visit. When we arrive at the Mosque, I whisper to Hussein that I need to go back to the bus, (the bus is in sight of where we are standing) to take some of the medicine he gave me yesterday for my digestive problem. I brought the standard medicine with me but Hussein had told us in our initial meeting to take his medicine if we became afflicted as it works better than ours. Hussein informs me that he will call the driver to alert him to open the bus door for me. Was this caused by Caesar salad I ate for supper the night before last?  After swallowing the pills, I stay on the bus and take a little nap while awaiting the return of the group. When they get back Paul tells me that the main thing I missed was a man that sang for them in the Mosque.

    We arrive at the airport and must go through security as soon as we walk through the airport door. Men and women are separated into different queues because everyone is patted down, even though we do not set off the metal detector. We check in and receive our tickets, and check our big suitcases through to Luxor. We go through another security check, this time taking off our shoes and belts. Hussein leads us to our departure gate, where he hands us sacked lunches. Yikes, cold, mushy, fries and a hotdog type sandwich which is not warm either. I really do not want to eat anyway but choke a few fries down and two bites of the sandwich. Paul does not do much better than me, and I notice most everyone visits the waste can fairly quickly after receiving their lunch.

    Since we all checked in individually, none of us are sitting together on the plane for the hour plus flight. Once we land, Hussein leads us to the luggage claim. When the luggage shows up everyone points out their suitcases for the porters, who pile them onto carts. Hussein calls out “Follow me” and we trail our guide to the waiting coach. Yes, we have another security guard with us also dressed in a suit. In case you are wondering, our security guards are packing a pistol, but unless you really look it is hardly noticeable.

   Gazing out the bus window, my first impression of Luxor is clean air, no crazy traffic or constant honking, the streets seem devoid of garbage and there is a wide walkway along the Nile. It looks like a very lovely city.

   We stop at the Luxor Temple ruins on the way to the hotel. There is an Avenue of Sphinx that stretches for 1.5 miles which connected Luxor Temple and Karnak. It is an astounding sight to behold. Hussein tells us that this sphinx avenue was used once a year for the Opet festival by the ancient Egyptians. I think this avenue was built over many decades by various pharaohs.

   Hussein gives us twenty minutes to walk down the avenue and admire the stately sphinx. Some of them hardly have any damage while others might not have any facial features left. It is hard to fathom that this sphinx lined avenue is thousands of years old.

    Hussein gathers us up and talks about the ruins of Luxor Temple that stands a few yards away from the avenue of the sphinx. I will not even attempt to relay any of the information that Hussein shared with us. Mainly because I cannot remember! The enormous, ornate, columns towering above us, makes me feel very small. As we move inside where areas of the temple are more protected, the painted scenes are remarkably preserved. We wander around looking at paintings, hieroglyphs, and stone columns on our own. After exploring the incredible temple ruins, we proceed to our hotel.

   We are staying at the Sofitel Winter Palace and it is beautiful. We gather around Hussein who hands out our room keys. Hussein leads us down a long hallway to show us where the breakfast buffet is, also pointing out the elevators to us as we walk by them.

   Paul, Jennifer, and I look around a bit then make our way to the elevator. There is a staff member there who opens the door and we step into the old lift. Paul and I have our backpacks on plus we are carrying some hand luggage so the three of us nearly fill the small elevator car. A couple walks up and decides there is room for them and now we are squeezed together to the point we can hardly move. The elevator man shuts the door behind us.

   When the elevator stops on the second floor which is where our rooms are, the elevator door does not open. The man pushes on the door, but nothing happens. Paul is stuck clear in the back and is unable to give any help. The guy starts punching buttons and soon we have arrived at the third floor. Again, the door does not open, and I believe it is Jennifer that tells the fellow to pick up the emergency phone and ask for help. 

    He does follow Jennifer’s advice but since he cannot hear or maybe does not understand the person on the phone, he hands the phone to me since I am closest to him. I tell the staff member we are in the elevator on the third floor, and we cannot get the door to open. The man informs me that someone will be there immediately. For some reason the man could not resist pushing another button while I am on the phone, and we are now going down to the first floor. Are you kidding me! Fortunately, there is a staff member waiting outside the elevator and he opens the door just like you would open the door to a room. Obviously, none of us paid any attention to how the door on the elevator worked when we got on the old lift. We exit as quickly as we can and the three of us vow to not set foot on that elevator again. I think we are all dealing with some claustrophobia.  Walking up two flights of stairs is no big deal even with our hand luggage, hey we need the exercise anyway. I do not remember thanking the man that rescued us which makes me feel bad.

    Tomorrow, we visit the Valley of the Kings. Nancy

   Paul and I meet Jennifer at eight for breakfast. I still cannot get over the array and amount of food that is offered. We meet Hussein and our group at nine o’clock at “point X” and Hussein leads us to our coach. It is a big coach so there is plenty of room for our group to spread out. This morning we have a security guard escorting us. The man sits up front so when Hussein introduces him, I cannot really see him as Paul, and I are sitting towards the back of the bus.

   When we get off the bus at the Egyptian Museum, I notice a man wearing a very nice suit, scrutinizing us as we gather around Hussein. It takes me a minute to realize that this is our security guard. I suppose he is studying us so intently so he can recognize the tourists he is responsible for.

   Once we are clustered around Hussein, he calls out a phrase we will hear often on our adventure in Egypt. In a very melodious tone Hussein says “Follow me” and we dutifully line up behind our guide and walk to the museum. Hussein purchases our tickets and when he passes them out to us, he rapidly says the word “ticket” over and over. His quick-fire chant would make the best auctioneer in the USA sit up and take notice. We get to listen to his auctioneer chant whenever we must have tickets to gain entrance to the various places we visit. I love it and it always makes me chuckle!

   Because of the crowd of visitors in the museum, we must wait, or others must wait on us, as the guides stop at some of the most popular items to talk about the significance of the pieces. Hussein takes us to the Egyptian Rosetta Stone; well, it is just a cast or maybe even just a photo behind glass, hung on the wall, since the real Rosetta Stone is in the British Museum. Despite many requests from the Egyptian government asking for the return of the Rosetta Stone, the Brits are refusing to return it to its rightful owners (in my opinion). Anyway, this important tablet is what helped scholars break the mystery of the hieroglyphic language. This is because the same phrase on the Rosetta Stone is in three languages, Demotic, Greek, and Hieroglyphic. I have no idea what the Demotic language is.

    As we continue to be schooled about various items from Hussein, it becomes clear the man is a fountain of knowledge. Names, dates, and stories flow from him without any stumbling or pausing. We learn that Hussein is an Egyptologist, he also was an archeologist for a few years and then if I remember correctly, he became a tour guide.  I believe we have a superb guide although this could be premature since this is our first real outing with him. I can already see that Hussein is humorous, knowledgeable, candid, and very personable.

   I am not even going to try to talk about the various items and ancient history Hussein talked about. For one thing all the information Hussein is giving us is overwhelming, at least for me, and we were witnessing this in person. I would probably get most of the details wrong even if I tried to pass them on!

   After Hussein finishes showing us the highlights of this immense museum, he gives us directions on where to exit the museum and where our meeting place will be. We are then given an hour to explore on our own.

     Jennifer, Paul, and I wander around looking at sculptures larger than life and marveling at items so tiny you wonder how anyone found them. We go to Tutankhamen’s special room where they do not allow any photos to be taken. The pieces on display are incredible but the coffin laden with gold is breathtaking. The museum does have an ornate golden chair and some other items just outside Tutankhamen’s room where photos are allowed. The pieces are displayed in a glass case so the reflections from the glass make it hard to take a decent photo.

   The three of us do not use up the allotted hour. After a while you cannot take in any more of the thousands of ancient pieces on display. We find the exit which makes you walk through a gift shop, (surprise, surprise) and arrive at the meeting point. There are already other members of our group waiting there, so we were not the only ones to cut our museum visit short.

   We eat lunch at a nearby restaurant. Hussein had handed out a paper with two or three choices on the bus and we put our order in at that time. The preordering of meals is something that is done throughout the trip which sure saves time. Paul and I had ordered the beef kabob which was really a beef stew. It was very tasty.

   We return to the hotel for an hour and then gathered at “point X” for a trip to Old Cairo. It is here that our private security guard earns his pay. The congested streets, where cars and tuk-tuks’ expect pedestrians to make way for them, can be quite dangerous for tourists who are so busy staring at all the sights they forget to move out of the way. You just become oblivious at times due to the produce artfully displayed or meat dangling from a shop rafter, or intent on getting a good photo. This man is striding up and down, stopping cars, gently pushing us to the side of the street, and occasionally counting heads to make sure we are all present.  Twice, when I am taking photos, I feel our guard’s hand in the small of my back pushing me to the side of the congested street. Both times I am moved aside, a car brushes by and I scold myself for being so careless. I see our guard perform this maneuver on almost every one in our group, except Hussein!   Our guards’ eyes are always searching the crowd, checking out the people around us too.

   The crowds of people, the smog, and the areas of heaped up garbage here and there is the downside of this outing but overall, it was well worth experiencing.

   Tonight, we walk to a restaurant for our supper. Our guard is with us, I wish I could remember his name. The man has nerve, as he just walks out into the street and puts up his hand to stop the cars. Hussein is always leading us across the street, once our guard has stopped the cars, and urges us to cross as fast as we can. Geez.

    This morning we are meeting at nine o’clock to see the Pyramids. I admit I am excited to see these ancient structures. Imagine standing next to The Great Pyramid, the only survivor of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World! A structure that was built over 4,000 years ago by pharaoh Khufu and it is still standing. Amazing.

   The bad news is that the smog is thick this morning and when we arrive at the Pyramids of Giza the air quality obscures the blue sky. The good news is that the air begins to clear after a while giving us a clearer picture of the three pyramids. Hussein leads us to The Great Pyramid showing us an area where we are allowed to climb upon the pyramid. I am surprised that the Egyptian government allows tourists to clamber up and walk a short distance along the base of the pyramid. One man in our group elects to go into a tunnel of the pyramid but the rest of us decline the offer when Hussein tells us that there is one place where you will have to get on your hands and knees and crawl. I am slightly claustrophobic and crawling inside a narrow tunnel inside the pyramid does not sound like fun to me. Evidently it is not appealing to the rest of the group either. Ironically the man from our group that chooses to take on this adventure is 6 foot 4 inches tall!

   Once all of us are together, Hussein leads us to another side of the Great Pyramid to show us the place where archeologists had dug up a boat that was buried for the pharaoh to use on his journey to the next world. There is an area across from us filled with camels, decked out in colorful saddles and blankets. There are numerous horses saddled up too. The aroma of ammonia that permeates the air, smells like an enormous litter box that needed to be changed two weeks ago.  There is also the usual lamenting by the camels which is very deep and guttural but there is one camel that is really raising a ruckus. Paul and I soon find the bellowing critter when we notice about four handlers yanking and whacking on a recumbent camel. Oh good grief, there is another camel lying underneath the caterwauling camel. We are witnessing the mating of camels and the camel care takers seem to be very unhappy about it. The men finally remove the male camel who voices his displeasure of being taken away from his girlfriend but allows himself to be lead away. Well, this was an activity that was not listed among the sites we would see in Egypt.

   Hussein gives us time to wander around the pyramids on our own. At his advice we ignore the men riding camels or horses that ask to have their photos taken because if you take their photo, they will insist on being paid. I have a good zoom on my camera so I can get photos without them knowing it. The pyramids are so colossal that it is hard to get far enough away to get the entire pyramid in your camera frame.

   When we meet up with Hussein, we return to the bus and our driver takes us a short distance to an area where camels await us. Yep, we are going to ride camels. You must lean back and hang on to the saddle pommel if you want to stay seated on the long-legged creatures when they stand up. The camels grumble about this, but camels seem to complain about everything. The camel owners take charge of three of us. The lead rope of the camel behind you is looped around the back pommel of your saddle. Once everyone in our group is sitting atop their camels, we begin our trek towards the pyramids.

   The woman that is behind me has a camel that keeps trying to walk around my camel. I do not really want to have the rope pushing against me, so I talk softly to the camel and then take hold of the rope and pull back on it. This makes the camel fall back in line but before long it is striding next to me again. I talk quietly and pull softly on the rope several times on this journey which sends the critter back where he belongs for a little while. One time when I am tugging on the rope, I am rewarded with a huge camel sneeze while he is walking next to me. I am sprayed with a fine aerosol from the sneeze that settles on my face, neck and probably my shirt. Oh well, I just wipe it off and figure it could have been worse, like it could have been actual snot. The woman that is riding this camel tells me that she will remember me as the camel whisperer which I get a laugh out of.

   Paul is riding the camel bringing up the rear of our little caravan so I do not see him at all during our ride. The camel guide stops at a certain point where the three pyramids are spread out in front of us in the distance. He unhooks our camels, leads them to a certain spot and places the beasts’ side by side. The man asks for Paul’s phone and then has us raise our arms into the air and takes photos of us. Naturally, everyone in our group goes through this same ritual. Yes, the camel owners expect a tip for doing this and Hussein has told us how much to give them. Paul said our man told him it wasn’t enough but Hussein insisted we not give them more money if they ask for it.

   Camels are not comfortable animals to ride, their gait is very odd plus you do not have stirrups to steady yourself. I get somewhat accustomed to the sway of my camel and feel safe enough to let go of the pommel and manage to take a few photos atop this one-humped animal. Hussein rides past us and it is obvious he is used to riding camels. I wonder if he grew up riding camels? I don’t think I mentioned that Hussein is Nubian.

     Paul spots our bus up ahead and lets out a sigh of relief. He told me he was going to walk back to the bus if we had to ride them back to our starting point, because he was so uncomfortable sitting astride his camel. I have a feeling everyone was happy to get off the cantankerous animals and trade them for the comfort of our bus. Oh yes, getting the camels to lay down so you can get off was not easy to do. Many of them belly-ached about having to lay down but you the rider must hang on tight to the saddle horn and lean back in order not to topple off the front!

    Our next stop is to the Sphynx and I can’t even describe this massive statue in words. We aren’t allowed to go down to the base of the Sphynx, but there is a walkway that allows for great views of this intriguing work of art. Hussein gives us ample time to take photos. He talks a couple of the women in our group to stand in a certain place and purse their lips. I assume this looks like you are kissing the Sphynx.  While we are admiring the Sphynx, a deep guttural noise fills the air. One of the women asks Hussein if what we are hearing is camels, (I thought the same thing). Hussein doubles up with laughter and tells her that it is the call to prayer! I will say that the call to prayer in Egypt is nothing like what we experienced in Istanbul, Turkey when we were there several years ago. In Turkey the call to prayer was melodious and pleasant. I cannot say the same thing for Egypt’s call to prayer.

   On our way back to the Marriott, Hussein has the bus driver stop at a government bread bakery. All this place does is bake bread where the citizens can buy six flat loaves of bread for twenty cents, (I think). The workers welcome us inside the bakery and we watch one man form the loaves, two other men place them on a conveyer belt that takes them through the heating element, while another man removes the baked loaves as they exit the conveyer belt. It sure does not take long for the bread to bake. I wonder how many loaves of bread this bakery puts out in a day. I wished I had asked Hussein that question. There were lots of people lined up waiting to buy their daily allotment of bread.

   Time to call it a day and return to the Marriot. Tomorrow, we leave Cairo and fly to Luxor. Nancy

    Paul and I both woke up at 1 a.m. so we took a sleeping pill and got a few more hours of sleep. Once we got up and around this morning, Paul and I went down and toured the grounds around the open-air restaurants before meeting Jennifer for a late breakfast. The breakfast is a buffet, and it is huge. Just about every kind of food you can think of is offered. Cheese, cold meats, fruit, lots, and lots of bread, hot or cold cereal, eggs however you care to order them, pastries and so much more. Paul and I are not big breakfast eaters, so I stick to fruit, oatmeal, a croissant and one small pastry. I think Paul and Jennifer might have had an omelet.

   After breakfast we walk with Jennifer around the same area Paul and I toured earlier and inspect the beautiful fountain, manicured trees, and the large pool.  The staff tending to the grounds are very friendly. Since we have the morning to ourselves, we decide to walk to the Nile River. We ask one of the hotel staff directions and he tells us to exit the Marriot grounds via the parking lot and turn left. He tells us the Nile isn’t far away and when we ask if it is safe to go on our own, he assures us we will be fine.

   We do not walk far when we catch a glimpse of the famous river, but we cannot see a way to get down to the Nile nor do we see any kind of a walkway along the river. The biggest problem is there is a very busy street between us and our goal. Hmm, there are two young men dressed in suits standing on the sidewalk not far from us. We decide to approach them to see if they might speak English. No, they don’t speak English, but I gesture towards the Nile and say we want to go to the Nile. They seem to understand this and beckon for us to follow them. The two men lead us down the sidewalk a block or two and point out some stairs leading up to a bridge. The problem is we need to cross the street through heavy traffic and the three of us are not keen on running this gauntlet.

   Approaching us is a young man who is walking along the edge of the busy street.  I inform Paul and Jennifer I am going ask him if it is okay for us to cross the street here as we haven’t seen anyone dodging the traffic to get to one side or the other. I smile at the young fellow and ask if we can cross here, gesturing to the other side of the road. He doesn’t answer me but he puts out his arm and I take it. He then watches the approaching traffic carefully and when a small break comes, he hustles me across with Jennifer and Paul close on our heels. How kind was that?? I thank him and he touches me on the shoulder and smiles, then he dashes back across the street.

   We walk along the congested road to the staircase only to realize these steps are leading up to a bridge where the traffic is even heavier. I guess the first fellows we consulted thought we wanted to cross over the Nile. Paul rules out going up the stair steps as it will not take us next to the Nile, only over it. A man at the top of the stairs begins yelling down at us in Egyptian and pointing in the opposite direction of where we were headed. He comes down to where we are standing, I suppose we look lost, and begins talking to Paul. Of course, Paul can’t understand a word he is saying.  The friendly man indicates that we should follow him and feeling fairly safe in broad daylight and the fact that there are three of us and one of him we let him lead us back in the direction we came from. We arrive at a side street where he points across the road and sure enough there is the Nile. The problem is the riverbank is lined with riverboat casinos and restaurants so we cannot walk down to the Nile. How the heck did this guy know what we wanted? We smile, thank him, and wave goodbye as he continues on his way.

    Paul and Jennifer decide to just walk onto one of the boats, naturally I follow them.  When we get inside the large boat, there is a man in a uniform sitting behind a desk. He looks up and smiles at us and when we walk over to the window to gaze at the Nile the man walks over to us and unlocks a door that leads out to a small balcony. We step out and gaze over the wide Nile. Okay, it isn’t exactly clean, there is garbage, particularly plastic floating on the water. Across the way there are three large pipes spewing what I hope is not raw sewage into the waters of the Nile. Still, it is the Nile, and one cannot help but marvel that three Kansans are gazing over this famous river. After Paul proofread this, he reminded me of the enormous McDonalds sign, the golden arches standing out against a bright red background, that we saw across the river. Good Grief.

   When we step back inside the boat, we thank the man that let us go out on the balcony. He nods his head in acknowledgment, smiles at us, and locks the balcony door behind us. So far, the Egyptian people we have encountered have been so friendly and kind. We check out one room on the boat before we leave where clothes are being offered for sale. I spot a lovely top and seriously consider buying it. You can see in the photo why I was so attracted to this unique blouse. Just kidding.

   We manage to cross the busy street on our own and walk back to the Marriott. We all go back to our rooms. Paul takes a nap and I go sit on our balcony. Our balcony looks out on the lot where buses unload guests. Jennifers room looks out on the manicured lawn near the outside eating area. Our view isn’t pretty, but it is rather interesting to watch the various buses either loading or unloading tourists.  

   We eat a late lunch in the same outside restaurant where we had such a good meal last night. Paul and I order a saffron shrimp dish to share, and Jennifer orders a minced lamb dish. I do not care for the shrimp at all so Jennifer is kind enough to share some of her lunch with me which is quite tasty. We take our time eating and marvel at all the people smoking with hookahs while drinking beer and nibbling on snacks. When one fellow next to us leaves his table the doves and sparrows move in. He has left a bowl of peanuts on his table and the beautiful doves are feasting on them. It is hilarious.

    When we met Hussein yesterday, he had given us a time to meet this afternoon at point X (the lobby of our wing of the hotel). We will be meeting our group for the first time. Once the sixteen, well fifteen as one woman is not feeling well and has stayed in her room, of us have arrived at point X, Hussein leads us to the other wing of the hotel to a meeting room. Hussein goes over some things with us and then has us introduce ourselves, tell what state we are from, and inform everyone how many times we have traveled with OAT. I believe there is one couple where this is their first time with OAT and then Paul and I are the next lowest having taken two trips with OAT. The most astounding is a woman who is traveling by herself, and this is her twenty-seventh trip with OAT! That is amazing.

    Our group has two women from Minnesota that are friends traveling together, a woman from Arizona and a woman from Pennsylvania that are traveling together, a couple from Colorado, a couple from California, a couple from Connecticut, a couple from Minnesota, a woman from Maryland, the one who has made 27 trips with OAT, and we three Kansans. As you can see this is quite a diverse group. On first impressions everyone seems to be very nice. I would guess the age range of the group is early 60’s to mid-80’s.

   After the meeting, Hussein walks us to a women’s craft store that isn’t far from the hotel. We have to cross a few busy streets and you can imagine getting sixteen people across safely is a challenge. The cars are constantly honking, and I literally plug my ears with my fingers at times just to get some relief from the noise. The smog is really bad, and you can literally taste the air. We country people are not used to breathing in such nasty air.

  When we arrive at the building where the women’s craft store is located, our group follows Hussein up a couple flights of stairs to reach the craft store. There are all sorts of homemade crafts such as jewelry, purses, knitted items and so on. My favorite of everything offered are the wooden crafts. There are a couple of items that are tempting to purchase but I have no room in our luggage to get these lovely creations home. Many members of our group do purchase some things, including Jennifer. Jennifer found a cute Christmas ornament and a knitted eyeglass holder, both of which will be easy to tuck away in her suitcase.

   Supper is on our own again, so we choose to eat in the international part of the Marriott’s open-air restaurant. There are other restaurants to eat at inside the hotel, but they don’t have the atmosphere that the outside venue has. The couple from Colorado joins we three Kansans and we have a nice visit with them. Paul and I split a meal again, a club sandwich, which is good. We had a beer and they brought peanuts and chips with our beer, so we had more than enough to eat.

   Tomorrow we are going to the Egyptian museum and to Old Cairo. Nancy

Northern Serengeti, part 8

Boy was it noisy last night, mostly from the wildebeest that ventured very close to the tents. The wildebeests were grunting, (they almost sound like bullfrogs with varying pitches), every time I woke up. I swear one critter was standing right by our tent as every time it grunted the sound reverberated through the tent. The wildebeests’ conversations didn’t keep me awake but I did enjoy listening to them for the brief moments I was awake.

We were up early for breakfast and left camp shortly after six. George drives to the river and there are wildebeest everywhere. There are ten or eleven crossings along the Mara river where the herds of wildebeest cross. As we near one of the crossing places, (4 maybe?), wildebeest are amassing near the river bank. We surely wouldn’t be so lucky to see a crossing right off the bat. Some people sit for hours and never do see this phenomenon. George parks the Toyota a fair distance away from the river and we watch the wildebeest approach the bank, peer down at the water, then move away. The skittish animals do this several times before turning around and walking away. George has warned us that this is often the case when hoping to see a crossing, you can never predict when or if the wildebeest will actually traverse the crocodile infested river.

Because of the rain, yes George calls the weather weird again, our guide decides to cross the Mara into what is known as the Lamai Wedge. The Lamai Wedge is land that belongs to Tanzania north of the Mara River that borders Kenya. The wildebeests are crossing from where we are situated now over to the Lamai Wedge and you want to see the wildebeest coming towards you. So, we drive across the “bridge” which in our county would be called a low water crossing. This cement structure only has about two feet to spare on each side of your vehicle, yikes. The water is a few inches from going over the top of the bridge and George tells us at times you can become stranded on either side if there is a down pour of rain. To add to the atmosphere there is a dead wildebeest that obviously didn’t make it across the river floating next to the bridge and vultures are feeding on it. Yeesh.

George drives to crossing 3 where a large number of wildebeests, (or gnus), are accumulating. Many of the long-headed animals are packed together standing next to the steep bank. Hundreds more are scattered throughout the area behind those next to the river. On the horizon, a line of wildebeests is on the move so while we are waiting to see what the nearby herd is going to do, Paul begins to count the marching wildebeest. When the far-off parade comes to an end, Paul has roughly counted eight hundred gnus. We estimate there must be at least one thousand wildebeest waiting at crossing three.

George finds us a good place to park, well away from the river, and we settle down to see what the gnus will do. There are lots of vehicles all around us and plenty more trucks on the other side where the herd is standing as they contemplate whether they will or won’t brave the Mara river.

There is other wild life around too, some behind our vehicle and more across the river. We see elephant, zebra, gazelles, and giraffe. At sometime during the waiting game we all need a bathroom break, so George must drive us away from the clutter of our fellow tourists. Our guide finds a fairly innocuous place to “check the tires” and we women clamber out and walk around behind the truck. There are some impalas, wildebeest, and zebra not far away who pay us little mind. While we three gals are using the open air restroom, Jesse tells us we have a hyena for company. We laugh at Jesse’s attempt to scare us but he insists that there is a hyena. Looking behind us sure enough there is a hyena skulking behind some bushes peering at us. As we stand up the peeping tom turns and runs away. Well, that is a new experience for we three ladies that will probably never happen to us again😊.

The wildebeest repeat the antics of the first group we watched, the gnus approach the river, then turn around and walk away. Twice it appears some of the gnus are ready to step into the river but they end up jumping sideways as something real or imaginary spooks them. We have been sitting here for nearly four hours and some of the Kansas crew are getting a bit antsy. George insists that we should be patient yet and it isn’t long after his advice that a wildebeest jumps in the water and the chaos begins.

George has told us that as soon as one of the gnus touches the water the rest of the bunch will blindly follow. He also said that all the guides will speed down to the river once the crossing begins to procure a good position to watch the frantic beasts swim the river. George wasn’t kidding about the guides as suddenly it seems we are in a cross-country race with no rules applied. I am into it at first, saying “go George go” until I see that this is turning into a melee. The safari vehicles are jostling as close as they can get to each other without running into anybody. Not only that but we are parking just a few feet away from the river bank. This is nuts.

Well, George does get us a good location as we are directly across from where the nervous wildebeest are launching themselves into the Mara and swimming for all their worth. The poor creatures know that there is danger lurking in these waters in the form of big crocs but we see no evidence of the toothy reptiles. The wildebeests are dangerous to themselves as many launch themselves into the air, preferring to jump into the river instead of just stepping into the water. Crocodiles often wait right at the river’s edge so maybe they leap from the bank in hopes of clearing the jaws of a waiting croc. Unfortunately, the gnus that vault into the air often come down onto the backs of those in front of them taking the chance of breaking a leg or injuring the animal they land on.

As the front-runners make it to the opposite bank they begin to struggle up steep inclines where all of we tourists are parked. There is half a dozen of the wide-eyed gnus that are clambering over the edge right by our truck. The terrified animals actually turn back towards the river and I fear that we have scared them into jumping back into the Mara to return to where they came from. I hear myself saying “This is not right” several times and then I tell George to pull up so the poor animals can find a way through the fence of vehicles. George does so only to have some knot head immediately pull his vehicle forward to take our spot, again impeding the panicked animals. Fortunately, a few of the wildebeest duck their heads down and weave through the maze of trucks and the rest of the herd follows them. Everyone in our vehicle is upset, we all work or have worked with cattle and know what extra stress this is putting on the wildebeest.

As we are voicing our disapproval of the fiasco on this side of the Mara something even more incredibly stupid is taking place on the other side of the river. The tourists have clambered out of their vehicles and walked to the edge of the river bank to take pictures and in doing so they cut off the rest of the wildebeest that are trying to get down to the river. These morons have placed themselves between the river and a bunch of wild animals that are trying to follow the two or three hundred gnus that are in the river or have crossed the river. These ignorant fools are lucky that the wildebeest put on the brakes and turned around instead of continuing to the Mara and trampling them.

We are not done yet with this drama. Several of the guides on our side of the river begin yelling over at the guides who let their customers disembark from the trucks. I’m sure they are letting them know that they have messed up big time. George tells us that if any Rangers had been here the guides would have had to pay a big fine for letting their clients out of the vehicles. The guides obviously knew no rangers were close by. With ten crossings to patrol there is no way the rangers can man every one of them.  We tell George we are ready to move on. Yes, we were glad to see the crossing but none of us wants to be part of that disgusting circus again. There is so much adrenaline shooting through me I am trembling. Part of it is the excitement of the crossing and part of it is my anger at the way we tourists behaved.

George has driven maybe a quarter of a mile when he slows down and says he believes more wildebeest are thinking about crossing here. I don’t know if this is another crossing or still part of crossing three. There are only a couple other vehicles here and we decide to see what happens albeit we don’t go right down to the river bank. I’ll be darned, the gnus begin plunging into the Mara and there is no human folly messing anything up at the present. The wildebeest are unimpaired coming up the river bank and once they are back on dry ground they walk calmly down the road. The guides who are parked on the other side keep their occupants inside the vehicles this time and they also park back from the edge of the river so the gnus are moving freely towards the Mara. That is until one moron drives his truck directly through the line of gnus heading for the river so he can park on the edge of the bank. Again, the herd turns and runs back inland. At least this time seven or eight hundred of the migrators made it across the Mara.

Feeling fortunate to have seen a second crossing that was more acceptable than the first one we move on. We drive along the Mara away from the wildebeest crossings to see if we can find any crocodiles. There are plenty to be found from small ones to humongous ones. There are plenty of hippopotamus in the river, including one big mama and a few month old baby. Vultures seem to be everywhere taking advantage of the numerous wildebeest that perished while trying to cross the Mara River.

George takes us to more Kopjes where once again we search for lions or leopards. One thing we see plenty of on our drive are vultures and why not. We see or smell carcasses occasionally so there is plenty for nature’s undertakers to eat. We also see lots of colorful agama lizards, well the males are colorful dressed in their blue and red skin. There are also the ever-watchful Klipspringers perched on the top of rocks, still as statues, staring out into the landscape as they watch for danger. You can always count on finding hyrax when checking out kopjes.

Time to go back to Njozi after another interesting but frustrating day. Before dinner is served there is a heavy rain so no nibbles by the campfire tonight. It is a special evening again as the youngest member of our group is a year older today. Although the participants are less than they were for Jennifer’s birthday celebration the staff’s enthusiasm is just as great. The very young chef leads the others in a conga line around our table. The chef whirls and twirls with Jesse’s birthday cake in his hand. He pretends to give it to the other guys sitting at the table, only to snatch the cake away at the last second. It is hilarious. Finally, the animated chef presents the cake to Jesse and the chant to “cut the cake” rings through the air. It is a great way to end the day. Happy Birthday Jesse!

Coming soon, more adventures in Northern Serengeti