Now, let's get cracking!

Freda is busy using the sewing machine, and I'm busy (on and off) cleaning the staircase walls. You wouldn't believe the muck that's coming off them!

I've just come indoors to have a drink, and Freda is going mad because the needle has just dropped out of the machine and she cannot get it to go back in. "Ford Transit Gearbox Syndrome" I said. Which in practice means that if you leave it for a short while and then go back to it; it'll drop into place with ease! I learned this in my youth, when I replaced a lot of clutches in Ford Transit vans. The gearbox was quite heavy for one person to hold above his head, or more likely on his shoulder, while trying to get it to slide through the clutch plate and into the spigot bearing in the crankshaft. After a half hour of lifting the stupid thing up and down and a bit of cursing here and there, your arms and shoulders would be about to give out. The remedy was to go away and partake of a slavery bacon sandwich and a cup of tea, before trying again. Invariably, on this attempt, the gearbox would fly in, and you would be left wondering why it wouldn't go before. Needless to say, when Freda went back to the sewing machine; the needle almost fell into place!

While I'm indoors, I might as well tell you of the fabulous idea we had! We had a little excursion to the Nile Palace last night, as well as having a couple of magazines to pass on to our friend Alison (Guest Relations Manager), we thought we were due a break, and what better place to do a bit of 'spotting'?

Actually, we were surprised at the number of people there, also very encouraged! There were quite a number of Americans and the usual spattering of English. We can normally spot most of the English from a mile away. The fact that their football shirts aren't colour co-ordinated with the socks they are wearing with their sandals, tends to give them away! (Hahaha!)

Many nationalities are given away by their facial shapes, I haven't yet managed to distinguish between all the oriental peoples, although I'm told that most of them have unmistakable features, according to country. The French are often easily spotted because of the 'style' which many of their women seem to have, while puffing away on a Gauloises or two. Also, many of the Frenchmen have the same habit as Italian men, of wearing a pullover draped across their shoulders!

Nevertheless, none of these spotters' clues are infallible, the obviously French couple might give us quite a turn, when a broad Brummy accent utters forth as they pass closely by, but it's still good and harmless amusement for poor people who don't have a telly!

So, while we were sitting and sipping, and sighting, last night, we came up with the ideal solution: We are going to petition our friend Mr Gamal (Chairman of the Board) to require all his new guests to wear National Costume while inside the hotel.

Isn't that a great idea? I can just imagine the lederhosen wearers, with their meerschaum pipes and silly hats, slapping their thighs as they go around singing; "Falderee, fadleraaaaah, faldereeeeee, falderahahahahaha, falderee etc etc." it would be a scream! (Just found the following, half an hour after publishing, can you imagine them at the N.P.?)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zzhlUhQSebE&feature=related

Those people whom we thought might have been from a South American country, could have had sets of pan-pipes hanging around their necks, as a hint. Or if they had, in fact, been Mexicans, they could have worn their sombreros. 

I've only ever seen one English gent in what might actually pass for national costume (I think I told you about him at the time). He looked really peculiar at Luxor airport in his pinstriped trousers and bowler hat!

Khalass! Enough of this timewasting! I'm being worked around as I sit here, so I think I'd better move and get back to it myself.

TTFN. (Ta-ta for now; an old Jimmy Young saying, from the wireless.)