Pulling Up My Big Girl Pants
Welcome to my random musings about the world, on a weekly-to-occasional basis.
Where we are: We’re in Dubai, staying put for a few weeks to do Normal People Stuff. (Dentist! Hair cut! New sneakers!)
Pulling Up My Big Girl Pants
Egypt is known for pyramids and temples and tombs, but also for pushy touts and sketchy taxi drivers. Lee followed an online conversation recently in which a well-seasoned traveler emphatically urged, “Do NOT go to the pyramids without a guide!” Was his adamance warranted? I used to think so, but I’m trying to change my perspective.
When we were in Luxor a few weeks ago, I went to see Queen Nefertari’s tomb all by myself, and it was an exercise in bravery and independence. I’m quite proud of my adventure.
Caveat: I’ve actually been there before, so you’d think that would give me confidence, but it didn’t really. Lee was definitively NOT going to another tomb, so I was on my own. I pretty much had to start from scratch, convincing myself that I wanted it badly enough to pull up my big-girl pants and venture alone into the Valley of the Queens.
I downloaded the Careem app to my phone (it’s the local iteration of Uber), clicked the button, and a car was on its way. The drive from our hotel to the Valley of the Queens takes about half an hour—across the Nile, through the west side of Luxor, and out into the desert. Lee sat with me in the lobby while I waited for the car to arrive.
It was a bit of a jalopy, but you get what you get. I climbed in, and the chit-chat began.
Where are you from? Are you married? Where is your husband? (Although everyone here actually says wife.) That’s verbatim—those were the first three questions he asked. That’s usually my cue to start talking about my very tall, very adult children.
His next question was whether I wanted him to wait and drive me back after my visit (all drivers ask this, every single time you take an Uber or taxi in Egypt). The drive over was going to cost 107 Egyptian pounds, which, according to my currency app, is US$3.46. For a thirty minute drive. [He didn’t actually know how to get to the Valley of the Queens (or how to use the navigation on his phone, apparently), so we stopped several times for directions. The last time was at a police checkpoint, which was actually very reassuring. At least someone would be aware that I’d been driven off into the desert by a man driving a rattle-trap old Egyptian junker.]
The hardest part was the ensuing negotiation. I definitely did want him to wait—the Valley of the Queens is a good twenty-five minutes from town, out in the mountains on the far side of the Nile. It’s much less visited than the Valley of the Kings (where Tutankhamen was buried), so there’s no taxi traffic. I needed him to wait; otherwise I’d have had a long, dusty walk back to a main road.
When the driver (whose name was Ahmad) opened our negotiations, I asked how much. Five hundred, he said. I did the math—that’s sixteen dollars. He asked if I wanted one hour of waiting, or two. I said less than one, and countered with 300 Egyptian. He held firm at 500, and I buckled immediately. Realistically, he had me over a barrel, and I despise negotiating. No really—I’d rather just scrap the whole thing and go back to the hotel than haggle over six dollars, except that I have no idea how to say never mind, turn around in Arabic. In for a penny, in for a pound, right? Or, in this case, five hundred pounds.
Ahmad was very put out that I did not have US dollars (or Kuwaiti dinar) with which to pay him. I am sympathetic—the Egyptian pound is in bad shape, and there’s talk of devaluing it again this week—but I legitimately don’t have any dollars. Apparently most tourists (even non-Americans) are told to bring dollars to Egypt, but Lee and I can’t possibly carry a year’s worth of currency when we leave the US each year. We get our cash from local ATMs, and needless to say, most of the world’s ATMs don’t spew out American money. Ahmad pushed hard—bringing it up over and over—but I just couldn’t help.
Ultimately, though, he waited, I saw the tomb (which, if you ever have a chance, is the most beautiful ancient tomb that has yet been excavated in Egypt), and I made it back to the hotel unscathed and (mostly) un-ripped-off.
We read a lot of travel forums, and the general consensus is that it’s impossible for westerners to do anything or go anywhere in Egypt without a guide. Admittedly, I had to work up some gumption to go wandering by myself, but in hindsight, my anxiety was entirely unnecessary. It was just a taxi ride. Egypt can seem daunting, but when you break down the elements, it’s not that different from anywhere else—just a lot dustier.
Take care,
Lisa
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