My Diary

Wednesday 19th February.

It's an early start again and it's surprisingly chilly as we set out this morning through Aswan and it's early morning hustle and bustle. My legs hurt me at my knee joints until I get into a rhythm. It's single file with a police escort and several policemen on motorbikes beeping and gesticulating and trying to control the traffic situation. Our speed is quite high considering the busy surroundings. We cross roundabouts and crossroads and pass large impressive buildings ... some are hotels, some are banks, some are offices. Aswan is a city. It's noisy but with a metropolitan feel ...... a huge contrast to the desert terrain of yesterday and to the villages of Monday.

I feel very important as we have the morning rush hour re-organised for our benefit. I seem to be moving quite quickly this morning, again I thank my lucky stars that I haven't got my tank (masquerading as a bike) from home. Ah! I spoke too soon! Approaching is the reason why the distance to be covered today is significantly less than yesterday. It's a b***dy great hill! This time of a standard to match some of the South Walian ones. I psych myself up, sort out my gears and pedal like mad. I'm swearing under my breath ( I wont enlighten you here as to the exact wording but sufficed to say it's not something I'd like to repeat in polite conversation!) A combination of crunching the gears, pedaling standing up and swearing gets me to the top. Another achievement ....... had that hill been on my journey into work I would've almost certainly got off and walked! But not here.....too much pride at stake!

But not here.....too much pride at stake!

We are at the east side of the Aswan Low Dam where an armed soldier stands in his little hut waiting for some action. Well, he soon gets his chance! The armed guard and police motorcyclists are here too. Between them all (much to the dismay of the locals in busses and taxis going about their daily business, no doubt) they stop all other traffic so us cyclists can pass over the dam en-mas. Again, another example of this very special treatment we are receiving everywhere. The views to either side of us is stunning. To the south you can make out the Island of Angellique where Phillae Temple is situated. To the north you can see the suburbs of Aswan and the Nile braiding its way through the granitic rocks that compose the cataract. As we reach the opposite end of the dam the soldier in his hut that side shouts "Thank you. Thank you! Welcome to Aswan!" Some how I can't see the guards outside Buckingham palace shouting "Thank you. Thank you. Welcome to London!"

..in true Egyptian style everyone drives in the middle, affording them maximum use of the horn!

There is another very steep hill just here so I employ my GPS technique (gears, pedaling, swearing) again which seems to work again.
The road now is similar to a dual carriageway, so in true Egyptian style everyone drives in the middle, affording them maximum use of the horn! The road surface is good, which my bum appreciates, and it is nowhere near as hot as yesterday so the cycling is actually really pleasant.
We are climbing all the time but the gradient is quite shallow and I don't need to swear! I talk to Justin and Helen for part of the journey and we talk about how privileged we feel and what a wonderful experience this all is. Work men are laying curb stones at the side of the road ..... the pace is traditionally easy!

It doesn't seem long and we're at the meeting place just before the Aswan High Dam. We indulge in some fruit and the pure luxury of toilets with doors and (get this) seats too!
We visit the monument to commemorate and celebrate the Egyptian / Russian construction of the dam. It takes the form of a modern interpretation of a lotus flower and is both beautiful and impressive.

We cycle across the dam. It's so wide that I don't appreciate the difference in height on either side of the construction until we stop and look. One side is level with Lake Nasser and the other side is a sloping drop which is phenomenally huge.

Next we cycle back along the "dual carriageway" and I'm not surprised to see that progress with the curb laying appears to have met stagnation!
I talk to Sascha, who has children more or less the same age as me, and we both realise that we're missing the kids significantly and wonder what they're doing now. It's half term week so anything is possible!

We cycle onwards admiring the views although it's quite hazy today until we come to the tiny little port in which are moored the boats to transport us to the island which houses Phillae Temple. This temple was one of those moved piece by piece by UNESCO when its original position in the Nile valley further south was flooded by Lake Nasser upon the building of the High Dam. It is beautiful, very serene. I particularly like the columns which show Hathor, the goddess of music, dance and love in her animal depiction of a cow.

Ever present, enthusiastic salesmen try and sell us anything from jewelry to statuettes to strange looking musical instruments ......... trouble is I've only got my bike to carry anything back on! Sadly they don't make much profit from us ..... better luck with the next boat!

Once more we climb back onto our trusty steeds! My body seems to have adapted its shape to fit the saddle as I don't have that initial "Oh my God!" feeling anymore. (Or perhaps it's just resigned itself to the pain and ignores it!)

I am cycling with Julia, the doctor. She tells me that her role is entirely voluntary at which I'm surprised. I honestly thought that she would've been salaried as dealing with peoples blisters, sun-burn, saddle sore and pharaoh's revenge can't exactly be a bundle of fun! However, Julia replies that it's an excellent way to get to see different parts of the world whilst supporting Mencap at the same time (she has been on several events before) and I have to agree with her there.

We are now getting back into the hustle and hassle that is Aswan. Even though it's now later in the day the madness, that I misguidedly thought was rush-hour, continues! This time there is the tourist element to deal with also. We have to go round countless numbers of parked-up coaches outside the papyrus factories that line the roads. All the coaches engines are running in order to keep the air conditioning operating inside and so fly in the face of any concerns about pollution. Their complete, oblivious neglect of any concerns re. exhaust emissions is registered by us cyclists who, on this occasion, would've been better off wearing masks, the amount of carbon monoxide we must've inhaled!

It's exhilarating and frankly its not very often you have a police escort.... It's no wonder I feel like royalty again!

There are the usual hazards such as maniacal taxis, spluttering motorbikes, donkeys and wandering men (the women don't seem to wander. V. sensible!) The police motorcyclists do their best to keep the situation in control, and do so very efficiently. Their number seems to have grown and I would estimate that there is one of them to every three of us cyclists. Testament, to be sure, of the "hairiness" of the traffic situation. To be honest, I'm really enjoying this. It's exhilarating and frankly its not very often you have a police escort personalised virtually to your individual requirements! It's no wonder I feel like royalty again!

Back on the boat we receive the, now standard, welcome hot towel and refreshing drink. Hold on! What's happening? It's only 2 pm. Surely we have another 4 hours cycling to go? No, they're being kind to us today. We are to have the afternoon on-board with a barbecue lunch on deck. It all sounds most luxurious!

I seem to have wasted the afternoon, occupying myself with girly triviality such as painting toe nails (mine and several other peoples as well!) It's rather lovely to do something a bit glam for a change and considerably better than applying sudocrem to your red bits! (The latter is necessary I'll admit......... ..but the results are nowhere near as pretty!)

We are now moored at Kom Ombo, the temple here is dedicated to the crocodile god Sobek. As I look over to the west, beyond the date palms and sugar cane I can see the desert where we spent such a gruelling time yesterday. In fact, this time 24 hours ago we were still gritting our teeth and pedalling away along that awful road in that heat. This afternoon has been far more relaxing and I'm shocked to find that I actually feel guilty because of it!
Tonight is the fancy dress dinner. I have persuaded Ted, (against her better judgement, she reckons) to take part. She has reservations but there's nothing I like better than the chance to dress up, so as my cabin mate she's press ganged into it.
Several people took the opportunity last night to go into the market at Aswan to purchase costumes to dress up in tonight. I just see Gemma appearing from the next cabin. Bloody Hell!.........They couldn't have had her size top at the belly dance outfitters! She looks stunning. (Sadly, you'll have to take my word for it as .... no photo!)

Ted is kitted up as a kind of commando Arnie type character and is now completely taken with the idea of dressing up and has gone for a touch of authenticity by borrowing the biggest, **** off knife you've ever seen from the kitchen and has it tucked into a scarf tied around her leg! ( Still she is a paramedic so if anything goes wrong she should know what to do!)

I have gone for a pink combo' (what a surprise!) I have a pink gallabaya from Michael's on-board shop which he must've been glad to see the back of as no one else would've dreamt of buying it and he only charged me £5 for it anyway! I have on my pink, sparkly Buffalo Boots and my flourescent pink wig. (This is true to form. I very often have the most inappropriate items when I go places. Hence, I have pink wigs and false eye lashes in the middle of Egypt when most people have elastic bandages and insect repellant!)

Every one has made an effort and looks fab. Limited time and resources have brought out the ingenuity in people. The bed sheets have come in for a hammering as there seems to be plenty of Romans!
We have a wicked time. Then it's time to find out about tomorrow. We have an earlier start to look forward to and then a full days cycling. Just 123 kms! Oh well, I'll worry about that tomorrow. For now I'm happy being with such a great group.