Notso hotso...

So I'm tucked up in bed and have been for a few hours as feeling decidedly ropey. The rest of the posse are at a Nubian restaurant having f-u-n without me, and I'm incredibly unamused to be missing the carousing. Spellcheck wanted to change that to "arousing", which I shall also be devastated not to participate in.

Yesterday was a very acceptable day. I am officially a big fan of the Step pyramid of Sakkhara (Saqqara) so was v excited by it IRL. King Zoser started the whole pyramid fandango with this puppy. In the olden days (ie: even OLDER than 3000BC, Pharaohs were buried in a tomb in the ground (all mummified etc) and a big bench thing was built on top. By bench I mean rectangloid. Err like a brick. A big, big lego-brick thing, made of loads of chunks of limestone, called mastabas. Anyhoo, Zoser had his mastaba built to be bigger than all others (men!), and then decided, huh: I can top that, let's shove a slightly littler mastaba on top. So now it's starting to resemble the aftermath of my kitchen after I've had curry delivered. Box on a box. Then Zoser tells his architect (Imhotep) "I mustaba nuther" (i'm ad-libbing, cut me some slack) and gets a few more layers put on, totalling 6/7. So there it is! Something that looks like a 6-tier rectangular wedding cake, sans columns. It's really, really striking and beautiful, and has been the highlight of my Egypt thus far. So - then Zoser kicks the bucket, his son tries to out-do him a couple of times (the not-so-famous "fell down into pile'o'rubbish" pyramid, and the more famous "bent" pyramid, and then things start chugging along nicely. 

We took a trip inside 2 pyramids, and all I have to say is this :stiiiiiinnnky. And eerie. Now I'm not ordinarily one for bad ju-ju, however the entire purpose of the place is to preserve the body (and therefore soul) of the pharaoh until the day of judgement. So we're tramping (some more than others) around this most sacred of places, whining about how much it hones, peering into robbed sarcophaguses (sp?), and arguing with Italian tourists about how the hieroglyphs scattering the ceiling resemble starfish more than stars. Well, they DID! I found some totally empty chambers to reflect, immerse myself, and generally stare in slack-jawed and dumbass-looking awe, and felt...unwanted. Like I wasn't welcome to hang out and be all touristy and mentally wax lyrical as I was standing in a defiled tomb, looking at evidence of robbed graves, celebrating in the evidence that this soul won't make it to the afterlife. If we fast forward 5000 years, if someone was poking around in my family tomb (errr if I had one) and if I believed fervently that my physical body in life was my vessel for the afterlife, I'd be MAJOR-league cheesed.

Then went to the usual Giza plateau and stared at the big 2 and the sphinx. Meh. Step-pyramid wins any day.

We boarded the sleeper train from Giza to Aswan, and after splitting a bottle of 'wine' with Normski, I hit the hay with a vengeance. Egyptian sleeper trains: rocking. IAGW.

Arrived in Aswan, boarded felucca and cruised around checking out Nubian bits'n'pieces - botanical gardens, Elephantine island generally got the feel of Aswan etc. That all ended abruptly with me feeling hideous, and therefore should explain this uninspired and lacklustre piece of blog. I shall be back on form tomorrow (please please please) and might have to actually mention my travelling companions, or better still S0DDING Ahmed, our Egyptologist guide who, if that wasn't clear, I'm not McLovin'.

Here's hoping GN doesn't roll in at midnight, tanked to the gills, or I'm totally doing the "what-time-do-you-call-THIS-young-lady" routine.

Slaters.