The Blithe Traveler

Jičín

Jičín: this has got to be in one of the tops slots on the list of Utterly Charming Czech Towns. 

Jičín has been declared a Municipal Reserve (městská památková rezervace) because of its well-preserved historical center, built around a rectangular square with a regular Gothic street layout, remnants of fortifications and arcade Renaissance and Baroque houses. The town is also connected with the popular fairy-tale character of Rumcajs. More on Rucajs tomorrow. 

Frankly, there isn't much to the place beyond the square, but there are a couple of worthy things to point out. 

First, the best playground ever. Jeff left late Sunday afternoon to get a day's work done before we started the long journey back to the US, so Fran, Melissa and I took all the kids out to Jičín for a pizza. Walking up to the main square, we found this. 

Water + sand = better than an iPad, even. Rube Goldberg would be proud. You need a crowd to run the thing, as you need a crew to pump water, and then there are various blockades and switches and other paraphernalia to be managed. We plunked down here for a good bit. 

As the kids were playing, a couple of twenty-something backpackers sauntered by and stopped to watch. They were more than a little envious, and commented that if they were only a few years younger, they'd join right in the fun. We of course welcomed them to help with the pumping, but they demurred and headed off.

When the water play ran its course, there was a swing. I think by the end, they had all piled on, but in the interests in not having Child Services trying to track me down, we'll leave it at these three thoroughly enjoying it. 

The children eventually gave in to the call of pizza and we headed off to find a place where we could all sit down. One was duly located without too much fuss.  We ate until we could eat no more, and then each had another slice. Nothing like a pizza fest, for those who can tolerate gluten. 

And, finally, it was time to head back to our little spot in the hills and bunk down for the night. 

The town is particularly beautiful during sunset hours. 

Next: The Second Worthy Thing: The Mysterious Rumcajs

 

 

 

Castles, Castles, Everywhere

The list is extensive: Frýdštejn castle ruin, Hrubá Skála Chateau, Hrubý Rohozec Chateau, Humprecht Chateau, Kost castle, Kozlov castle ruin, Kumburk castle ruin, Kumburk castle ruin, Mnichovo Hradiště Chateau, Rotštejn castle ruin, Sychrov Chateau, Trosky castle ruin, Valdštejn castle, Valečov castle ruin, Vranov-Pantheon castle, Zbiroh castle ruin. 

Wow. That must have been boring to read. I hope you just skipped over it. But! So! Many! Castles! I particularly love how many ruins there are. And most date from the 1200s, 1300s. Many have been sacked, burned, pillaged, and re-built. We managed to visit two, Trosky ruin on Saturday with just Tom and Hope and then Kost castle on Sunday with our friends. 

This ruin is poetically beautiful. You can see it in the distance as you drive up. It is probably the most famous of the castles in the area. 

And while it is a "ruin" it's not left alone there in the countryside. You do have to pay an entry fee. And, there are newly constructed stairs. Because, I think the Czechs really like their stairs. 

Trosky was built on the remnants of a volcanic cone. The original volcano, last erupted about 17 million years ago, was worn down by erosion over time, leaving only these two basaltic towers.

The views are spectacular. Can you imagine riding up to this castle and having to attack? 

It wasn't the best day for photography, but well worth the trip and climb. 

Especially for the budding archers. 

The next day we headed over to Kost castle, which is as completely a different kettle of castle as you can imagine. First of all, it's privately owned.

If I recall the story correctly, it was confiscated by the government at some point during the communist era, but was returned to the heirs. Can you even imagine the upkeep?

The heirs have a few strategies to cover costs. You can rent an apartment on the grounds for a 2000 crowns, or about a hundred bucks a night. 

 

Another beauty shot. This castle is unique in that it's not on a hilltop. It's actually located on a spit in between two brooks. There are damns along the fishponds that were broken in times of attack, cleverly changing it into a moated castle.

It has been around, mostly in the form you see here since the late 1300s. It's considered one of the better preserved castles from the era, and one that has withstood many attacks. It allegedly got its name from the fact that its walls are as hard as bone (kost means “bone” in Czech). Anyone want a refersher on the Bone Church from last summer? Sedlec Ossuary

The tour is a bit of a drag. You can't get into the castle without taking an hour and a half long tour in Czech. The tour leaves at certain times, and the doors are locked, so you can't get in/out until the tour starts/finishes. At the end of the day, we should have skipped it. There were hills, caves and mountains to explore ... ancient cave dwelling on the hillside near the castle. 

But, since we did go inside, I'll show you this one interesting tidbit. Portrait has a bullet hole in it. The story we read on the English language guide sheets we were clutching as we wandered from room to room said that the lady in the portrait had been unfaithful to her husband. If legend is to be believed, he pulled a gun and shot her portrait, telling her that the next time she was unfaithful, he would shoot her. So, you know, interesting. 

The castle also has a torture chamber, with lots of ancient torture devices. The guide spent a lot of time in this room, describing in tremendous detail the horrors humans like to inflict on each other. Luckily, it was all in Czech, so we just stood around looking at the devices and trying not to imagine anything as dreadful as she was surely describing. 

This, by the way, is how a privately held castle is maintained. No one was actually tortured in this castle, but "torture chambers" are apparently a successful tourist draw, so having one is a money maker. Ick. 

Trdelníky! Nothing like dough roasted over coals coated with sugar and cinnamon to make your day. Better for you than Dunkin' Donuts. 

And with that, we headed back to our hotel in the forest. 

Next: Jičín

More Prachovské Rocks

We drove up to Bohemian Paradise on a Friday evening, so had the day Saturday to explore the area before our friends arrived Saturday evening. Once they arrived, we struck right back out into the woods. It was irresistible. 

Such a gorgeous area! The international life breeds strange bedfellows; we had befriended this particular family in China at a time when they had three children. The count currently stands at five, and we've visited together in the intervening years in France, Sri Lanka and now our beloved CZ. They are relocating to Spain, so we are hoping to see them  more often. Spain is only like, NYC to Des Moines from the Czech Republic. 

The kids always seem able to pick up right where they left off, a year ago. Although, it's always an introduction for the youngest ones.  

We spent a good couple of hours romping through the rocks. 

There is nothing more fabulous than kids romping in the woods. Although, if verisimilitude were a closer friend of mine, I'd be including photos of them all huddled over their i-Pads a bit later in the evening. But that would totally ruin the mood, wouldn't it? 

And, speaking of ruining the mood, in the interests of over-sharing that is not really my story to tell, I will also mention that one of these children had Encephalitis (probably contracted from a mosquito bite in China). Diagnosed a day or so later in Prague, he is fine now and home with his family, but it was a particularly scary thing to have happen while traveling. This particular family has terrific travel medical insurance, so they were able to have him evacuated out of Prague and to a great hospital in Frankfort where he was closely monitored and recently released. So, key lesson learned: "blithe" is nice, until someone ends up with Encephalitis. 

I suppose there is blog posting in all the lessons learned when something like this happens abroad, but, like I said, it's not my story to tell, so we'll leave it at, if you are traveling and are worried about something medical, act on it. And, travel medical insurance is not necessarily a scam/waste of money/something to be automatically ignored. 

Next: Castles! And More! Castles! 

 

 

 

Bohemian Paradise

Český ráj, or Czech Heaven. It really is pretty fabulous, and quite a popular destination for Czechs. 

"Bohemia" if you are not aware actually refers to a geographic area that is part of the Czech Republic. It includes Prague and borders Germany. Poland and the historical Czech region of Moravia. So a "Bohemian" is technically someone who hails from Bohemia, although the word has also taken on the meaning of "a socially unconventional person, especially one who is involved in the arts."

The etymology of that usage actually derives from French: "bohémien" meaning "gypsy." The Romani people were thought to come from Bohemia, and they are a socially unconventional lot, so "Bohemian" came to have the meaning you probably associate with it.  A bit confusing, I admit. But, if you consider yourself Bohemian, you may be Czech or you may be be artsy fartsy, and if you fancy yourself a Bohemian Bohemian, then one imagines you are an artsy fartsy Czech. 

Anyway, long story short, friends of ours were coming in from China, arriving in Warsaw and planning to spend a week touring around the Polish/Czech area before landing in their new home in Spain. We had something like three days of overlap from when they would arrive and when we would leave for our US holiday, so plans were made to meet at a little hotel on the edge of Bohemian Paradise for a few days of catching up, hiking, eating and general merry making. 

The area is well known for two key reasons: (a) castles; there are at least a million and (b) interesting geological formations. 

Our hotel, the utterly charming Hotel Pod Šikmou Věží was perched right under the Prachovské Rocks.

"Pod Šikmou Věží " means "under the leaning tower," which makes a whole lot of sense if you have ever seen the Prachovské Rocks. 

Would you like to see the Prachovské Rocks? Okay, then, here's a sample: 

There are lots and lots of these.  

Pretty grand, and rather spectacular in real life.  And the best bit? Mother Nature grew us a few stairs!

Ha! No, totally kidding. The area is groomed in a wild sort of way for the tourists: 

Tourists favorite rocky area represents the remnants of a sandstone plateau with deep gorges and valleys, where nature created a unique sculpture with tall, significantly extended rock towers. The area is rather small in terms of size, but its rock formations, gorges, ravines, hollows, and locations of prehistoric finds are abundant. It is protected as a nature reserve since 1933. The most interesting parts of the rocks are easily accessible on safe tourist marked paths and many beautiful lookouts provide a complete overview of Prachov rocks area. Wiki Bohemian Paradise 

We spent a good bit of time in this semi-wild bit of the CZ. 

The best part was being able to hike straight up from our hotel.  

Next: We are joined by other people, who walk with us in the woods 

 

Biking To Bratislava II

Right, so, no bridge. Just, no bridge. 

Google Maps did not lead us astray, if you were curious. If one were to drill down closely to the route, one would read clearly that the word across the Danube was "ferry" and not "bridge." Attention to detail has never been my strong suit; I have never thought of pursuing a career as a "proofreader," for example. 

To pick up our sad tale of woe, we stopped to read the sign, all agog at the lack of a bridge and the mosquitoes, seeing an opening, descended. For a brief moment, I wondered if we could round up a posse of mozzies and have them carry us across the water, but clearly I was delusional from blood loss. 

We briefly considered contacting our chase car. A couple of issues: a quick read of Google Maps suggested that the car, which was just on the other side of the Danube would have to drive round trip 30 kilometers to reach us. The car could carry no more than a couple of people and bikes in one trip. So, the logistics weren't good. The car had been thought of as an 'emergency vehicle' that would come into play if we had a bike or a child injured sufficiently to be unable to continue. Not as a ferry vehicle to come fetch us all if we got stuck on the wrong side of the river. 

So, still a last ditch option, but not an ideal solution. 

We hopped on our bikes and headed over to a nearby fish restaurant where V could scout out the options. Turns out, there is a ferry (of course there is a ferry! If you read Google Maps carefully is says right at the top "this route includes a ferry!"). It's hard to explain, but there is a large restaurant boat that sits on the edge of the water and the guy who runs it has an on-demand ferry service. He shuts down at 6pm and heads over to the very restaurant where we were inquiring about ferry service for dinner and a few beers. Lucikly, he wasn't too deep into his few beers and he agreed to interrupt his meal to ferry us across. 

I won't tell you what he charged us for this service, because, what would you charge us for leaving your dinner and beer behind to ferry a somewhat-less-than-merry band of foreigners? Probably more than you would charge us if we had arrived before closing time. 

Key Lesson Learned: read Google Maps more closely before plotting bike route. 

We wheeled our bikes through 500 meters of sandy swamp and staggered up the biggest hill of our journey. Pushing our bikes up in the humid summer evening air, we hit the largest cloud of mosquitoes yet encountered. Oh, my, it was bad. There's no sugar coating it: this was the point at which I thought, "This was a really stupid idea."

And we were still almost 10 kilometers from our destination. 

Which, to remind you, was not even Bratislava! We were only going as far as Petronell to bunk down in a hotel for the evening. 

Net, net, as the sun was heading setting, we arrived. Tired, mosquito bitten, hungry, sweaty, but delighted, absolutely delighted to arrive.  

Showers, dinner, bed! In that order. And, joy of joy, the children being the rubber bouncing balls they are, were all in super great moods.  All they chatted about at dinner was what a great trip they were having. Yeah, there were mosquitoes, and yeah, there were naked people, and yeah mosquitoes, and yeah, it was too long, and yeah, mosquitoes, but, super kids that they all are, they were still having a great time. 

The hotel was charming. There were screens in the windows (to keep out the mosquitos), so we were able to keep them open, which was good, because it was hot and there was no air-con. But, lack of air-con was the only 'complaint,' and that was mainly from the oldsters like myself.

The stork was visible from the landing, nesting on the rooftop. That's a sign of good fortune, I think. Or babies, or something. But, I like storks, they are pretty cool. 

Rising late the next morning, we ate a leisurely breakfast and headed off looking for the bike path. 

In hindsight, a much better biking route would have had us continue on the other side of the Danube until the Hainburg bridge (photo below is Hainburg) and then cross over. Long story, but the hotels I had access to in Hainsburg (e.g., the ones available on English language booking sites) were all booked for the evening we required, so we took a slightly different route, the one that required the ferry trip versus the bridge.

This is the town gate in Hainburg. This part of the trip was pretty crappy because we were on the roads proper, going through traffic. 

But, it wasn't long before we caught up with the bike path, and it was smooth sailing from there!

Clear signage, easy bike paths through charming areas. And, no  mosquitoes. 

We arrived at the border in fine fettle. You might wonder why I am still wearing my bathing suit. Basically because I had failed to pack any suitable undergarments. Happens. The kids all had clean undies, though, so not a total failure. 

And it wasn't long before the Bratislava castle was in sight. 

We crossed the bridge on the proper bike path, Hope pedaling her wee heart out, 

and arrived in Bratislava!

Long before our scheduled 4:00pm ferry ride. Whew. Whew, whew, whew. 

We settled in for a well deserved lunch, and enjoyed the festival atmosphere of summer Bratislava. It really is a charming place, and we were in the mood for a little charm. 

If you, whoever you are reading this, were to plan to visit me in Vienna, it is possible to take the Twin City Liner down to Bratislava, have a nice lunch in town and be back in Vienna in time for dinner. So, you know, if you have some time and "a few" hundred bucks for plane fare, it's a nice way to spend a day. 

The ride back was uneventful, although we made the children keep watch for our ferry crossing of the prior evening. And there it is! You can see the "restaurant boat" docked next to the river, and there is the smaller ferry boat just heading out to bring passengers across. 

And before we knew it, we were back home. The Twin City Liner docks a couple of hundred meters from my door step, and it travels up and down the canal the children and I bike to school every day. When we're heading home in the afternoons, we often see it motoring by and wave to the passengers on their way to Slovokia. Finally, finally, finally, I got to be the passenger. I have wanted to make this trip since we moved here, and by golly, it was a nice ride. 

FYI, you do have to pre-book your bicycles, so be sure to buy tickets ahead of time and book the bikes (there is no fee, but they limit the number you can take on, so each bike does have to have its own "ticket."). Also, the ferry gets quite busy during the summer months, so I'd recommend buying tickets well ahead of time. 

All of the kids bunked down with us that night, for a rousing WE MADE IT slumber party, so I had to stop at the local market to pick up a few supplies. Parked outside was this beauty. 

Now that looks like a fine way to travel to Bratislava!

Next: Bohemian Paradise

 

 

Biking To Bratislava I

[Note: there is a NSFW photo toward the end of this post]

Bratislava, the capital of Slovakia, is about a 70 kilometer bike ride from Vienna (that's about 43 miles if you're not a kilometer kind of person). The ride meanders along the Danube, making it a flat sort of go, and we planned to overnight halfway, so it wasn't a terribly long bike trip.  We thought it was an idea the kids would really enjoy. Ha ha! Really. I thought that. 

I first came up with the notion a year ago, when Hope was 7. I had access to a tandem bicycle, so the idea wasn't as patently absurd as it might sound on the surface. We weren't really able to rouse any other families as stupid crazy dim witted adventurous as we I am to action, so discretion being the better part of surviving any of my lame brained ideas, the notion was shelved. 

But 2013 dawned a new year, and I was fairly determined to make it happen. And, best of all, I found Willing Victims Cohorts in Crime. I made the decision early in the year to pick a weekend, recruit people and just go for it, logic and reason be damned. Net net, we had three adults (Jeff, myself and one other parent) biking, six children ages 8 to 11, and, drum roll, a chase car to carry our luggage and act as emergency pickup should we have any emergencies. How totally awesome is that? 

Awesome. I have Awesome Strategy Skills (<--you know where this is going, so we can just move directly into using the acronym, right?). The plan was pretty specific: we would depart from my apartment wearing swim suits under our clothing, bike for about an hour to the Lobau National Park, where there is a swimming lake. We would have a nice snack, a swim, and then bike the remaining hour, hour and a half to our hotel in Petronell, Austria.

Total ride for the day, about 40k. We would arise the next morning refreshed, perhaps spend a few hours at the Roman Park located in Petronell, then bike the remaining 30k to Bratislava, and ride the Twin City Liner ferry all the way back up the Danube to my doorstep. Super simple! Jeff and I took our two children out on a trial run, just to check the logistics. And, indeed, the lake at Lobau was an easy ride there and back, so it all seemed possible. 

We saddled up! It was the last day of school for our gang, so a half day. I brought all the kidlets back to my house for a pasta lunch (carb loading!) a change into swim wear and a wee pep talk. They were excited, and really happy to be going as a group, so the other mom, "V" and I decided to kick off. Jeff had a bit more work to do, so worked out a plan whereby he would join us at the lake after our swim. 

Key mistake. Jeff was the navigator. I had looked at Google Maps and there are signs to follow (Danube National Park Bike Tour), but, there is a tricky bit leaving the Lobau that did require his expertise. Of course, if I were an actual useful human being and could ever learn to properly use my 21st Century i-Phone, I could have done the navigating myself, but I seem resolved to remain in 1996. Oi. "ASS" indeed. 

Not a problem at all, by the way, if the "swim at the lake" plan had actually worked. But, it did not. Kids were awesome and happily biked to the Lobau. It's a huge national park not far outside of Vienna, located strategically in the FKK zone. I have mentioned this bit a few times prior, I am sure, but the FKK zone translates to "Free Body Culture" zone, which means clothing is optional.

I had mentioned this to the children as part of our pep talk. We were going to be biking for at least half an hour through the FKK, so there was a clear expectation that we would be viewing a lot of nekked hineys. That wasn't the real problem, though. The real problem was that the second we hit the forest of Lobau and paused to read the signs to work out exactly where the lake was, we were set upon by more mosquitoes than I have ever seen in my life. The children went into caribou-mode (they basically went berserk and started running in random directions), so we hopped back on our bikes and pedaled like mad. As long as we were pedaling, no issues. But, it is hard to swim on your bicycle. 

We arrived at the lake, hoping that maybe, somehow, some magical way, the lake was a mozzie free zone. The lake, like, the place mosquitoes breed. It was not mozzie-free. And not only was it not not-mozzie free, it was also in the FKK zone, something I had not exactly realized. We were surrounded by naked people. Hordes of naked people. Hordes of large naked people. Hordes of large naked people sporting the sort of mosquito bites that made one wish to be immediately wrapped in mosquito netting.  Hope took one look around and announced that she felt like she was surrounded by melting candles. Kid has quite the imagination. But, I'll confess, I thought it was a pretty spot-on description. 

Stopping was not possible. V was fairly adamant that if we didn't leave soon, the children would start dropping from blood loss. Panicking a bit, because, really, I wasn't clear what our next move was on the directional front, I rounded up our dazed and bloody lot and we backtracked out of the park.

Reconnoitering at the entrance where there were (a) no mosquitoes and (b) no naked people V and I decided to get back on the path along the Danube and just keep going. I contacted Jeff and let him know we needed to move on to Plan B, told him what Plan B was, and headed off to brave the FKK zone with 6 children age 8-11. Oi. ASS indeed. 

We biked a couple of kilometers along a straight, hot, flat, naked road and arrived at this restaurant. V is Austrian, so we decided to feed the children ice cream while she scoped out the travel situation. Good thing she did, too, as we discovered that we were in fact going the wrong way. We needed to backtrack back to Lobau and take a slightly different route that followed the river, but did not go directly along the banks. 

The children were still pretty cool about the whole mess at this point, despite that they had been denied their swim, had been swarmed by mosquitos and were not thrilled about the nudity. 

Of course, we kept reminding them, the nude people actually belong there. It's their zone we were biking through. And, they were nice enough to have a "clothing" section of the restaurant, which is where the children were sitting. You will notice that our crowd are sitting alone. Most of the people in the restaurant were ohne Kleidung.

So, we backtracked, and met up with Navigator Jeff. Yeah! 

Back on track, we biked just about forever. 

The bike path was flat, hot and long. We couldn't stop very often, as the mosquitos were pretty much hovering just behind us, waiting for us to slow down enough to get their evil mosquito proboscises into us. Ugh.

We did stop periodically to refuel the children. The trip, by the way, which we had estimated would require about 2-2 1/2 hours of biking was well into the third hour, and Jeff had already taken to hiding the GPS so none of us could work out how much longer it was going to be. Our immediate goal was to get to the bridge that would get us over the Danube, as apparently, it was only "a few kilometers from there." Which turned out not to be exactly true, because it's not often that I think of "9" when someone says "a few." 

Here we took a wee break in the shade for water and snacks. My choice of biking outfit was dictated by (a) the desire to wear my swim suit for swimming and (b) the fact that I own no proper biking clothes. C'est la vie. 

But, onward, onward! We rode. The three adults kept up a pretty constant patter to keep the spirits of the children up. For the most part, they were still enjoying themselves, although at one point, one of them hit the dirt, hard. He staggered up, gave us a thumbs up, and declared himself a helmet convert. There's upside to everything, don't you think? 

Onward, onward we rode, and finally, finally, we arrived at the Danube. Where the bridge across was. Can you read that sign? It's the Danube National Park Bike Tour sign. It points across the river. Do you see a bridge? Neither did we. 

ASS. 

Next: What happened next

And, We're Done

The view from the roof top of the Pyramid Inn. Totally worth forty bucks a night. Including, you know, the periodic air con. 

That's me. You can't tell, but I'm really happy and really sad at the same time. I loved Cairo. But it was time to go home. We had had an evening at the market, two full days of touring and on our final day, the plan was to get up, head up to the roof for brekkie and hang out until about lunch time when our chariot would arrive to whisk us to the airport. So a low key restful kind of day before heading for home.  

Here's another view. I wonder what's up with the Pyramid Inn now? They didn't have a huge clientel while we were there: it was us and a Lost Boy. Yes! Our second one in Cairo! This one was British. 

And, yes, he had been in Iran during the time of the Shah. No kidding. Crowded place, I have to imagine, Iran during the time of the Shah. 

He was chatty. They always are. It is always painfully obvious that they are lonely, so it's hard to be mean and say the thing that is foremost in your mind, "Listen, Lost One, I am here with my family and we really don't need to here your stories of Adventure, S*x in Foreign Lands and Near Death." Because, deep in my heart, I feel sorry for them. 

Do we look happy? I had earbuds in, so had swapped out with Jeff as the Lost Boys' sounding board, so, yeah, I was pretty happy. 

Hope was pretty happy, too. It was hot up on that roof, but we had had two days of touring and it was simply grand to feel the Vitaman D, valiently thrashing its way through the smog, soaking into our skin. 

 

The Lost Boy finally did wander off, to go drink coffee at a local cellular telephone shop. But not before he told us one last charming tale. Google Translate is an awesome tool, and one that the ex-pat quickly learns to use judiciously. Depend on it to write a letter to your local magistrate and you will probably find yourself in jail, but use it to translate the jetsam and flotsam of every day life, and it's golden. 

But Lost Boy, in front of our children, told the following tale: he was living in Brazil and had a girlfriend. She didn't really speak English. 

May I interrupt the story for just a moment and ask you, oh gentle reader, how many of you have had a Significant Other with whom you did not share a common language? Other than the Language of Love, of course. May I venture to guess it is a pretty small percentage? May I also inform you that along with announcing their time in Iran with the Shah, Lost Boys always manage to interject at some point a story that pertains to their girlfriend with whom they did not share an actual spoken language? Some days this world makes my head spin. 

Anyway, our British Lost Boy told us that he has always been a bit skittish of Google Translate since his first major fight with the non-English speaking girlfriend. Seems, they fought using the computer to translate. She would type in Portuguese, translating to English. He would type in English translating to Portuguese. Fighting words. Oi. Oi, oi, oi.

One last view of the Pyramids from the roof top.  

Net, net, I cannot wait until the day that we can return to Egypt. Reality check, I suspect this may have been our first, last, and only trip. I cannot express how sad that makes me. 

Next: On a Happier Note, We Bike to Bratislava

 

 

 

The Giza Sound and Light Show

The Giza Sound and Light show: we could have seen the lights from our Pyramid Inn rooftop, but, the children really wanted to see it live and in person. Part of the Sound and Light show is an hour-long voice over that goes with the lasers and lights, and while the lights would have been visible, the sound would not have carried. 

Given how little the wee children complain, we find it wise to periodically honor their requests (although, never if the request involves sugar coated breakfast cereal, because, really, one must have standards). Sound and Light show it was. We walked over to the Pyramid entrance and bought tickets. 

It was not a particularly busy evening. The crowd gathered here didn't get a whole lot bigger. 

Honestly, I think part of the desire of the wee children to see the thing was they had been so awed by the lighting up of the Eiffel Tower a few weeks prior, they were expecting the same kind of experience here. 

It wasn't quite the same. First off, the show was an hour long. Too long, probably by a good 45 minutes. The folks who put it together clearly put a huge effort into creating an extravaganza that was meant to make the tourist feel as though they were getting their moneys worth. But, to fill an hour surrounding the history of the Giza Pyramids at a level most folks could understand and create some kind of coherent storyline was perhaps biting off a bit more pita than they could chew.  

The Lights really were cool. 

The Sound dragged on for quite a bit longer than my minuscule attention span could manage. 

Net net, interesting, and worthwhile from the stand point of supporting the local tourist economy. From the stand point of family entertainment, we probably could have skipped it and watched from our rooftop. 

And speaking of the rooftop, here's the street view. The key reason I booked our last night at the Pyramid Inn was that you could hang out on the roof and see the Pyramids.

Pretty cool, eh? (<--Practicing my Canadian for future travel adventures)

We ended up eating dinner up there. After our massive lunch extravaganza, we decided to treat ourselves and have a light meal on the rooftop. Jeff picked up four Snickers bars and a couple of bottles of water and we settled ourselves in to watch the second showing of the Sound and Light Show.  

A hot night in Cairo, the Pyramids bathed in light, Snickers and a few happy Canadians; a perfect end to the evening. 

Next: And, We're Done

Scenes from Cairo II

As I write this (a few days before it is posted) ex-President Morsi is under house arrest and people are being killed every day in continued political violence. 

As a cosseted Westerner, it's hard to fathom. 

The streets were quiet and peaceful while we were there. 

 

We were incredibly fortunate in our timing, and I am really grateful that we were able to visit the city and see some of the amazing sites Cairo has to offer. 

(Tea wagon, although maybe that is obvious?)

We all hope that stability comes quickly to the region. 

As a family, we would all love to be able to return and explore more of Egypt. Of course, that will not be possible in the near future. 

But, we can hope that soon enough, the country will be open again for people to marvel at all it has to offer. 

Tomorrow: The Light and Sound Show

Scenes from Cairo I

Because I enjoyed our brief time in Egypt so much, we're now going to wander aimlessly into random story territory. Consider that a clear warning: meandering follows.  

Driving in Egypt is easy: there are no rules. Doesn't that sound like fun? Just like Bumper Cars at the State Fair, only, in real life? No? Not fun to you?

I spent enough time being driven around in China to deal resolutely with the mayhem. I close my eyes, hang on to anything (or anyone) dear to me and whisper little prayers.

We were not actually driving ourselves, and the beloved, albeit somewhat-less-than-law-abiding Maged not only provided air con, but his vehicle was equipped with seat belts, so we managed just fine. However, crossing the street as a pedestrian can be difficult. Lonely Planet describes it as an elaborate game of Chicken, where one player has the advantage of a half ton of metal and an engine and the other does not.  

Jeff, the two children and I were standing at the curb of a four lane roadway screwing up our courage to cross the street when someone grabbed my hand. It was a local woman, probably old enough to be my mom. She motioned for me to latch on to the two children, waved her regal hand in the direction of on-coming traffic, made eye contact with the nearest on-coming driver and dragged us out into traffic. No joke, I almost peed myself. I mean, the cars weren't going terribly fast, but go back up and re-read that bit about the game of Chicken with a half ton of metal and put yourself in my shoes. 

Jeff, being game for anything, tagged along. We made it across the first lane of traffic, and Eagle Eye flagged down the next lane of on-coming traffic. Four lanes of traffic she dragged me across, stopping drivers in their tracks. We arrived safely at the other side and I thanked her profusely, and she waved politely, in an "oh, that was nothing" sort of way and headed off. 

This is a bread line in a local village, on our way into Dashur. Notice anything interesting about the photo? 

No women. I will also point out that just about everyone in the photo is wearing full length trousers; no shorts. Egyptians are modest, and for the most part stay pretty well covered up. The exceptions are young children. We let Tom and Hope wear knee length shorts, but Jeff and I wore full length trousers right straight through the 40C (104F) heat. 

Egypt is filty. No judgement, just pointing out that there was garbage all over the place. I'll include a couple of photos. The air is also pretty foul, with one of the highest pollution levels anywhere in the world. Didn't stop me from loving the city. 

One of the Nile canals. This was one view from our hotel, the Pyramid Inn. Other views happened to include the Pyramids, so don't think I didn't enjoy just about every second at our second hotel. 

The hotel not only had great views of the Pyramids (photos of that soon enough), but they also had air con. Air con is great, so long as the electricity is on. While we were there, Morsi was still president, and one of his strategies for dealing with power shortages was to have rolling blackouts around the city ... periodically. We heard from different sources different lengths of time for the blackouts, etc, but we experienced at least one every day for 45 minutes to an hour. 

Traffic in Cairo comes in many forms. 

The fodder was fresh cut from around the Nile canal. 

From the Pyramid Inn, we could walk to the Pyramid complex; it was less than a kilometer, I think. We headed over for the evening Light Show, and there was some vague plan that we would eat dinner. We had stuffed ourselves at our Tourist Lunch, though, so dinner wasn't as high on the list as you might think. 

And there they are! That's one of the Giza Pyramids in the background. 

As we walked along the city streets, people would constantly engage us, mostly looking for business. The first question anyone would ask is, "Where are you from?" Given the fact that an American had been knifed recently, we coached the children in a response we thought was sensible, "CANADIAN!" 

So, yeah. We told people we were Canadian. Most of them would respond with something like, "Hey, we love Hockey, too!" Or "Canadian? CANADA DRY!!" Poor Tom almost got us in trouble after he told one guy he was Canadian, and the vendor responded, "Don't you love that Wayne Gretzsky?" To which Tom responded, "Who???" Not a proper Canadian response at all. 

After that, we coached them to say, "YES!" to any question that didn't involve money. 

The mini-taxis (below) are great, if you speak Arabic. We didn't try to use them, but the general idea is that they travel a specific route. If you need one, you flag them down, and pay for as far as you want to go. I've seen these in several different cities (Ulan-Baatar in Mongolia and Chaing-Mai, Thailand), and they seem like a terrific idea for getting around a city. 

And one more mini-bus taxi, just because I can. 

Tomorrow: If you can believe it, more randomness.