Sorry, no pictures!

And I should think not! I would have damaged the camera, I'm sure. ("What, even more?" I hear you ask.)

As I'm sure you're aware Dear Reader, we should have been safely at home in good old Windy Nook by now, but, courtesy of EgyptAir, we're still here in Luxor!

I'm beginning to hate airlines with a vengeance; firstly, BA (our once proud national airline) decided to cancel our September flight from NCL to LHR, about 10 hours after Freda booked it the other week. What excuse did they have for cancelling a flight almost 7 months in advance? It's beyond me, I can assure you. So, now we'll have to leave home at something like 04.00 to catch the EgyptAir flight to Cairo at 15.00 or whatever time it goes. I'm really looking forward to spending the day at Heathrow Airport, as you may well imagine!

Monday was another case of an airline just doing whatever it fancies with its innocent fare-paying passengers. (Will no-one protect the travelling public?) The 06.15 flight from LXR to CAI was to be over three hours late in taking off, yes, three (that's 3) hours late, and that's after our CAI flight to LHR has left anyway! The next flight to LHR wasn't until 17.30, just about when our booked BA flight to NCL was due to go, so some use there, eh?

This would have meant spending a night at Heathrow, and then re-booking a flight to NCL and losing the return portion of our original flight, adding another £600 or so to our trip, plus the hotel, don't forget. In her never failing wisdom, Freda decided to find a more reasonable flight from LHR to NCL, which turned out to be next Monday, but even that put £250 on top of what we'd already paid, does anyone care??????? That question is rhetorical, Dear Reader, because apart from your good self, nobody does! We are like sheep to the slaughter.

But never mind, my beloved dreamt up and idea to somewhat save the day. She booked us into the Winter Palace for the night! This wasn't just her usual extravagance, no; she had sprayed the whole of our two flats with the very pungent anti-ant stuff (we had intended to be away for 6 months, after all) which was still chokingly evident when we eventually got home from the airport. We couldn't possibly have stayed there that night. As it happened, we got a double upgrade at the OWP; from a standard Garden View to a superior Garden View, to a Nile View, which was lovely. (And, we didn't even know the bloke who dealt with us!!)

So here we are, languishing at our Luxor home for another few days. All it will take now to put the icing on the cake, will be for Freda to find me a list of jobs to do! Oooops, spoke too soon!!!!!

Let Joy be Unconfined!

We're getting a new surface to our alley. You weren't expecting that, were you Dear Reader, and neither were we!

We were very embarrassed recently, as we had guests staying and there was (sometimes) a distinct drain smell in the street! Whilst it was distinct, it wasn't too bad, and neither was it there all the time. Have you ever been in the Marrakech Medina? Well, it was like that, here and there, all of a sudden, and it was gone after a few steps, but nowhere near as strong, thank heaven. But it was there which was bad enough! I remonstrated with Coffeeshop Adam, and explained that it was very embarrassing. As usual, he waffled on for a bit and then promised to get someone out to sort it.

Of course, I take everything that Adam says with a pinch of salt, but the following day........
There was knocking and hammering from quite early morning, and when we looked over the roof terrace wall..........there was Adam and another man knocking seven bells out of the old bits of furniture and wood, which he stored in the street. "Eee, he's actually doing something!" I said to Freda. The fact that he broke one of the four drain covers in our street by hammering bits of wood together on it didn't seem to worry him, or cause any further smell, either. Then there was an Amoun man (Council worker) with his drain cleaning rods and right-angled, long handled shovel for cleaning out the traps, yuk! Then.........there were blokes with hammers and pry-bars and heaven knows what else, and the next time I looked over, the street had turned into Syria! It was as if an Exocet had hit it! Adam's step into his coffeeshop was obliterated, the bottom 1 of the 3 steps into our building had just disappeared altogether, and there were small piles of disgusting stuff which the Amoun man had pulled out of the drains. Here's a little taster. (Urgh, maybe the wrong word in these circumstances!)

Under interrogation, Adam intimated that the steps had been done away with to allow access for the machine to fix the street. We had noticed a number of big 4 wheeled wagons standing around loaded with 4 inch thick paving blocks, and wondered where they were bound for. Well, it transpires that Haret Osman is getting some. Of course this might change if the chain-gang get wind of the fact that our alley isn't adopted by the Council. We'll have to wait and see.

They were supposed to be starting today, but there's been no sign. Perhaps tomorrow? Insh'Allah? One thing's for certain, I'm pleased that we don't have guests at the moment!

Any sort of digging gives Adam the excuse (as if he needed one???) to regale me with the tale from his youth of seeing an "effreet" when the foundations for our buildings were being dug out. "It was huge, Mr Edward, like a cat, but the size of a buffalo! I saw it out of the corner of my eye, but when I looked properly; it disappeared into the ground, where there was no hole or anything!" If I've heard it once, I've heard it a hundred times!

Then.........."You know, Mr Edward, there are ancient Pharaonic rooms under these buildings; I see them with my own eyes when I was young! There is a man in Moracco, Maknes, I think. He has good magic, and when something is buried 7 metres down; his magic makes it come up to only 1 metre. If you email him and get him to come, he can stay in your flat while he magics the gold and statues up under the houses. We will split the money!"

Of course, he's as daft as two brushes. You can imagine me, can't you? Emailing all the magicians in Meknes and offering them free accommodation whilst they magic Pharaonic treasures out of the ground in Luxor. How would I know if I had the right one?

The Inbetweeners?

I believe that's the title of a popular television programme. Haven't seen it myself, but I should think that many of my (thousands of!) readers will know of it. Well, I'm experiencing quite a bit of being, or at least feeling, sort of "in between" recently!
Like just now........I've had to make myself a cup of tea, and it was 4 o'clock. That's right, right "in between" the 3 pm workers tea break and 5 o'clock tea-time. I first became really aware of this phenomenon this morning, when we just had to have tea at 10.30; "in between" the 10 o'clock factory tea break and the elevenses which those at home would have. I justified it quite easily, of course, as I was working at home!
Has it come to this, I wonder, that I now have to justify to myself and the rest of the world when I want to take tea? Is Orwell's "Big Brother" really watching us through the "Telescreen" after all?
"Errant nonsense!" I hear you say, and quite correctly!
But back to being "In Between". Our last guest was the same age as me (confidential, sorry!) but seemed to be a lot fitter, despite having an electrical gadget sewn into his chest to control his brain function!!!!! What can I do? I'm part of that awkward, "in between" age group; not yet old, but no longer young or even middle aged. It's a b****r, I can tell you. Muscles, which used to hump Bedford 466 cylinder heads about, or a hundredweight of coal up a dozen icey steps, now struggle to carry a 10 litre can of paint from the shop to the waiting caleshe!
I think I'm also turning into Victor Meldrew, though he was 60 when his fictional frustration was unleashed upon his neighbours, and anyone else with whom he came into contact. (See British TV series, "One Foot In The Grave")
Step ladders, or as we know them hereabouts "selem heshups" (or something like that; stairs wooden, I think). My beloved, more generally known as "The ever lovely Freda" (a phrase coined by my old pal and business partner Fatty Johnson, when he first saw her after a gap of 30 or so years) doesn't like me going up them any more, steps that is. I'm not all that keen myself, either, but needs must, as you Dear Reader, know only too well.
The steps we have here are of two different heights and designs. The big ones were made for me by our original carpenter, the chap (from Qus) who did all the woodwork in our two flats here. I've since modified them slightly, so that as well as being step ladders, they now swing out to become an ordinary ladder, too. The wooden rungs are only about 2 inches wide and make my feet ache, Freda won't even contemplate going up them! They're also rather weighty, and I tend to catch the chandeliers when I'm moving them around, plus; they often give me spelks! (Colloquialism, a spelk = a wooden splinter which is stuck in your skin!)
The other set, smaller, were bought from Mr Bahaa Sherif's downstairs shop on TV Street. Again, I modified them so that they too could be used as longer ladders. They've been very useful upstairs, where they're kept under our bed. They were "in between" the biggun's and two step-chairs which also originated from Bahaa Sherif, which were for Freda to reach into cupboards etc. when I wasn't around, but which have both given up the ghost a while ago.
I just happened to be browsing in said "downstairs shop on TV Street", and trying not to bump into the girl who was following me about and watching that I didn't try to steal one of the disgusting elaborately patterned computer desks, or something else equally revolting, when I noticed a two step thing which I recognised from the "Forty" supermarket, where they used it for reaching the stock on the top shelves. "Ooooh!" I thought, "Just the thing for Freda."  On enquiring the price, I was told 350le. But then, was pointed to a slightly larger set at 625le. I was certainly interested, but hadn't been authorised to spend that sort of cash on a whim, plus I didn't know which set she would find more useful.
Well.....today, being a start to clearing up the flats for our imminent departure, we could have used an "in between" sized set of steps, the two-step was deemed to be too small, so I went and bought the two-step with a platform, which was the third step, and a long outer frame which served as a steadying handle. We're both delighted with it, as it has 3 inch treads, for more comfort, and is, quite literally, as light as a feather. (Well.....you know what I mean, no need to be pedantic about bit!)
So, now it's 5.15pm and I'm "in between" being awake and asleep, so ta-ta for now.

New Post? That's what it said, but there's nothing new under the sun, really!

I was a bit embarrassed, to be quite honest, when I saw the comment on my last effort, from Tarja in Finland. Of course even the loyalist of  readers won't keep clicking-on when there's nothing new to read or look at, and who can blame them?

Mind you, us becoming almost recluses at Our Luxor doesn't help! I'm spending my time either on the laptop, looking at melodeons on eBay and Gumtree, or playing my melodeon on the roof terrace, whilst Freda reads or dozes. Mind, that's not strictly true, as we also still spend an inordinate amount of time cleaning, as ever! (That's three things that there's no escape from, by the way... Death, Taxes, and Egyptian dust!)

Our ventures out mainly consist of meeting the few friends still left here after the conspired at demise of British/Egyptian tourism. Freda rarely joins me on shopping expeditions any more, which has a lot to do with shock of having an idiot clip the wheel of the caleche in which we were riding, with his car! Although she would be more willing to come if we took the 'bus, it's not really as convenient, and it would mean that our caleche man's income would drop even further, as well! What to do, what to do?

Talking of Egyptians......we've been having some painting done, on the stairs, on the roof terrace, in our rooftop hovel, and in the already beautiful Our Luxor apartment! Now there's a surprise for you, the Jenningsies spending money!!!!! It doesn't happen too often, so the Egyptian workers had better make the best of it! (And you, Dear Reader, can revel in the abundance [possibly surfeit] of exclamation marks!!!)

Well, they certainly did. (The painters, that is not the D.R's!) Firstly, the stairs were becoming embarrassingly shabby, so they were first on the "to do" list. At the same time, it would be silly not to give the terrace a quick splash over with some new white and replace the distinctly sun-faded tent-fabric "artwork" (Christened as such by Mad Mara of Mara House fame). We had a recommendation for a painter, who was (unusually?) a cousin of some sort, of a very good and long-time friend. What more could a man want?

"I'll come with him to translate, as his English isn't all that good (no doubt it's still better than my Arabic!) and I want to make sure that there are no mistakes made with your instructions!" "Even better", thought I. I couldn't believe it when the men arrived.......they'd brought their own kettle, and tea, and glasses! This had to be an omen, good fortune had smiled upon us, at last!

Before too long, the cracked brickwork and redundant screw holes etc were all filled with maajun (a pre-mixed filler, pronounced ma ajune) and flattened down with sandpaper,

and a first coat was put on. I was a touch disappointed that they hadn't made much use of the three rolls of masking tape that they'd brought along, but the older of the painters assured me (sincerely, but not in a Tony Blair/Hughie Green type of way) that there'd be no mess after they were finished.

There wasn't in actual fact much mess, except that the stair treads, every one, had paint splashes of both colours liberally spread about, and a tin of paint had been knocked over (but cleaned up after a fashion) and the mosiaco (the white cement and pebble mix of which the stairs are made, pronounced moes-eye-co) was stained. And........the finish on the paint was matt instead of semi-gloss. We'd stipulated the semi-gloss as it washes so much better than the matt, and the stairs do get lots of hand-marks on them.

Anyway, this was the day before we were leaving to go home for our Christmas celebrations with our family, so we left the keys with said friend and hoped than he was able to sort it all out before we returned.

Which he did, of course, but to his satisfaction, not ours; sadly. They had varnished over the lower of the two colours! Never mind, you can't have everything, can you? It's certainly nice and bright and clean looking. I've made a start on scraping the paint off the stairs, and scrubbing the remnants with water and wire wool, they're coming up really nicely, but it's blinking hard on the old hands, I can tell you! Here's one reason why we didn't even contemplate varnish!

Even though it says on the tin "For Outside Use", this is what happens when it gets rained upon, not very satisfactory, is it? Mind you, it does go back to normal when it dries. (???)

In their favour, I have to admit that they turned up when they were due, didn't try to change the price, and the end result (whilst not good) made the place look clean and tidy and was eventually acceptable to a desperate man! What do you think, Dear Reader?

I was almost contemplating doing the rest of the painting myself, even though I hate it and am increasingly uneasy about clambering up and down sellems-heshup (Stairs-wooden....step-ladders to you and me!) when we met for tea with some English friends. "I've just the man for you!" the husband said, and sure enough, he had.........really!

Although our new painter speaks almost no English at all, his work was excellent! Our neighbour (an English speaking Antiquities Guide) did the translating for us and everything went swimmingly. Muharib, that's the painter's name, went on to paint the guest bedroom after we were satisfied with the job he'd done on our's upstairs. I think the darker colour finishes the room off quite nicely!

We're ever so pleased that we've found him. Now all I have to do is to persuade him to come to England to do some work there!!!! Insh'Allah!

On occasion, they  have a travelling market visits Luxor, and recently ws such an occasion! Of course, we usually have a butchers (Colloquialism, actually Cockney rhyming slang: Butchers = Butchers Hook = Look) and this was no different. Most of the stuff was handicrafts of one sort or another, and none really caught my eye.....until.......I noticed one of those folding Arabic (of the desert wandering type, I would imagine) chairs. Ooooooooh, I wanted one! Badly! In actual fact, I've lusted after one of these ever since I first clapped eyes on them, many years ago. Curved and inlaid dark painted wood, a feast for the eyes! Anyway, I managed to persuade Freda that one would sit very nicely in our guest apartment, and after the saleslady had even let me plonk my 17(+?) stone frame on it, she did offer a tempting discount. We bought it, oh incredulous Dear Reader!

Lovely thing!

Of course, I had no idea of where it would go, but I was confident that Freda's interior designer eye would find somewhere suitable. But it didn't. Friends, I had to go and buy another one to match, as one alone just didn't look right. Here they are, at last, and I love them!

As you can see, us old folk have had quite a lot of excitement here at Our Luxor, I just hope that our new batches of guests think it's all been worthwhile!

How was that Targa? Did it grab you at all? lol.

(I know it's been a long time, but you do remember that if you click on a picture, you can get them all up together, and bigger too, don't you?)