Burj Al Arab - High Tea

Most hotels will let you walk in and look around, in the lobby at least, although you may have to go through some security. Not the Burj Al Arab. If you don’t have a reservation for something inside you don’t even get in the gate. But, we’d decided on one last splash for our final days in the UAE. So it was that we showed our reservations for Afternoon Tea at the gate and entered the bridge to the hotel. It’s an imposing site as you drive across; a huge sail looms in front of you; all that you see of the hotel where it stands on its reclaimed island – an island that apparently took longer to build than the hotel.

The Lobby

As we drew up to the front to valet park our rented grey Corolla, a family was disembarking from one of the hotel’s limos; a white Rolls, of course, with the gold Burj logo tastefully tattooed behind the rear passenger door window. We disembarked, clothed in accordance with the dress code (collared shirt and trousers/pants for men, dress or long skirt and dressy top for women, no open shoes) and entered the lobby.

Looking up the Atrium

The lobby is dominated by a fountain climbing between two escalators, computer controlled so that it plays water in a number of different ways – as we watched, it spat snakes of liquid into the air to be swallowed elsewhere in its structure. At the foot of the fountain, a leaf shaped carpet is reflected in the gold ceiling.

The Burj is triangular in cross-section; two of its sides comprise accommodation and these face the Arabian Gulf. The third side is the sail, facing Dubai. I say ‘accommodation’ because there are no rooms; only suites, 202 suites on twenty-eight, two-story floors. Price to stay ranges from US$2,000 to US$18,000 per night, but it was fully booked that day, so we didn’t sleep over!

High Tea was high indeed; seven courses commencing with a glass of champagne; a raspberry/strawberry amuse bouche, lovely little sandwiches, hot sliced beef tenderloin with mash, sorbet with candied rose petal and, of course, scones with strawberry jam and Devonshire clotted cream. Finally, we finished with melt in the mouth French pastries. All of it served with tea of your choice (English Breakfast for me!) and accompanied by the soft melodies of a woman playing a harp.

There are high stores inside too. Our friend tried out a $250,000 diamond ring but didn’t buy…

Despite being one of the tallest hotels in the world, built around its huge glitzy atrium, it has an intimacy that’s hard to fathom.

I looked back, as we left across the bridge en route to the Santana concert, to see the sail glowing in the dark from within. Our final night in Dubai.

www.Burj Al Arab

In Mount Kilimanjaro's Shadow

Waterbuck - Crescent Island

The final Park in our Kenya Safari was Amboseli, in the shadow of Tanzania’s Mount Kilimanjaro. We were filled with anticipation but sceptical – several people had told us they’d spent a week in Amboseli and never seen the mountain – at the top of Africa, it spends much of its life cloaked in cloud, …and we were only to be there for two nights.

Lake Naivasha Fishers with Papyrus

On the way we’d sailed across Lake Naivasha in a small motorboat, at its centre Crescent Island, the location for the movie Out of Africa. David, our boatman, explained that the island had been populated with animals specifically for the movie – wildebeest, antelope, waterbuck, lion and leopard. But once filming was complete, they removed all the predators – effectively sending the herbivores into retirement – I knew how they felt!

We arrived at Amboseli in the dark but next morning I was up at 6am and out at the viewing spot. Aaarrgh – Kilimanjaro was completely covered in cloud. But… I returned at 7am and, wow, it was gleaming in the early morning sun. ‘You are blessed; she has undressed for you,’ Atanas our guide said.

Mount Kilimanjaro from Amboseli Sopa Lodge

We headed out at 8am and immediately ran into a parade of elephants – there they stood throwing dust on themselves with the mountain as a backdrop. We pulled out our cameras and snapped for all we were worth. Just as well, as we watched the cloud crept up the mountainside until it was completely clothed by 9:30am.

Bull elephant makes us move

Amboseli is famous for its swamps and grassland – home to hippos and elephants. We saw many, some very close, and all went well until we came upon an old bull elephant drinking from a pool beside the road. We stopped close by and took some shots. The elephant stopped drinking and clambered onto the road. A herd of elephants had just walked around us a mile back, so we stayed still and watched. But this guy had other ideas. He turned towards us, lifted his head and bellowed, then walked straight at us.

Elephant Hosers

There’s a rule on safari: Always give way to animals. We were two vehicles and Wanjay and Atanas, our guides, immediately engaged reverse and started to back down the track. But our elephant wasn’t done with us – he just kept coming – shaking his head from side-to-side, flapping his ragged ears back and forth and every so often lifting his trunk and trumpeting. 

Carol's always had a 'thing' for these creatures and she whispered: "If I die now, tell them I went happily; my last image was an elephant..." We slowly backed up for more than half a mile and had almost run out of road when the bull stopped and turned off the road.

Whew! It was off to a nearby lodge for a drink. Just before we arrived there we ran into a family of baboons – mother, father with newborn and soon to appear a gremlin-like 3-month old. The latter, like so many animals we’d seen, seemed to pose for my shot.

Little Gremlin

Next morning we left for Nairobi and I could barely believe it, Mount Kilimanjaro was clear again. But as they said everywhere we went when something unexpected happened – the power went off, the bank machine refused to give cash, or an animal jumped out from the bush: TIA (This Is Africa)!

Africa had bewitched us. We can’t wait to go back…

Walking with the Masai

‘Jump with us! Jump with us!’ the warriors called from the top of the anthill. So, up I went. Perched on a thin ridge between them, it was more precarious than I’d hoped – but they tied a cloak around me, handed me a club, and I jumped.

We’d met our two guides at the hotel with the Masai greeting ‘Sopa’ and walked the mile or so to their village, as other Masai men joined us. They identified plants along the way; the Sandpaper plant with leaves like Fine grade, Morning Glory whose leaves cool you, another to rub on as insect repellent and one that produces the red dye used in Masai clothing.

I walked with Sassini – and I asked him why his hair was in dreadlocks when all his colleagues had shaved heads. All those that live in the village shave their heads: men, women and children alike. But when boys reach 15 years, they are circumcised in a special ceremony and then sent into the bush for at least 3 years – they mustn’t return to the village. And to show pain or discomfort during the circumcision brings shame on their family. ‘While in the bush, we grow our hair. Our head isn’t shaved again until we marry.’

Sassini explains traditions

‘So you are not married?’

‘No, but soon... My parents will arrange a dowry, usually 4 or 5 cattle, with the girl’s family and then there will be a marriage ceremony. I will get my own hut in the village and start a family.’

‘So, you have a girlfriend?’

‘No, I’ve seen a girl I like and have spoken to my parents but I’m not allowed to speak to her.’

Goat Corral

Eventually we reach the village of around 200 people, all descendants of Sassini’s grandfather, a fenced collection of huts built around a central square. The Masai are herders and during the day take their cattle and goats out into the bush – we’d seen them grazing alongside the elephants and wildebeest. But at night, they bring them into the centre of the village to protect them from predators – the goats are particularly vulnerable and are kept in corrals of thorny acacia to protect them from leopards. But still, a leopard got in three times in the last month and killed goats.

The men are generally the herders; the women seem to do everything else. It’s women that build the huts, driving stakes into the ground to form a square, weaving branches between them and then packing the walls with a mixture of mud, straw and dung. They are small – even I had to duck to go inside. There is a small room for very young animals then a central fire pit beside the parent’s bed and a bedroom for the children. The houses gradually deteriorate so that every 9 years or so, the entire village moves and is rebuilt elsewhere. ‘But we don’t move far – the school is a permanent building and the children still need to walk there.’

Sassini sat beside the fire in his parent’s house and explained that children stay with their parents until they are six and then go to live with their grandparents to learn the Masai traditions. But, they all go to school from this age, boys and girls, where they learn English, Swahili and their own language, as well as math, etc.

Masai women dance with Carol

Every morning, they drink a mixture of milk and blood, both drawn from cattle. It occurred to me I’d like to try a taste, but I thought better of it! As we sat, a small child came in from school. ‘Is this your brother?’ I asked Sassini. “No, it’s my sister!”

As we enter the village, the men group together and start to sing: a pulsating drone, like the buzz of a summer’s day. Then, one at a time, they step forward and leap up and down. Each one jumps a metre or so off the ground. This dancing is usually reserved for special occasions and seems very competitive. The women sing and dance too and invite Carol to join in.

I ask Sassini how they protect their animals from predators. ‘It’s our life, he says, but we look at it as a game. We are fierce warriors.’ Nevertheless they are forbidden from killing any female animal. ‘We would have to face the elders to explain our actions and they are unlikely to forgive us.’

It was sunset as we left the village, with herders bringing the animals in for the night, hoping to keep the leopards at bay…

Bob jumps with Masai Warriors

Kenya Safari

‘It’s going to be a bit rough,’ Atanas our guide said as we started out of Nairobi, after we’d said our jambos (‘hellos’ in Swahili). This didn’t prepare us for the last part of our journey; two hours of bone-shaking drive over a corrugated gravel track. Carol wished she’d worn her sports bra... Yet it was strangely therapeutic, like a long, deep massage – my lower back and leg aches melted away.

Wildebeest relaxing

And at the end, the Masai Mara, the top end of the Serengeti, with more animals than you can imagine – it felt like the first time at the zoo. Our Toyota minivan was specially modified to take the rough drive; the top popped up to allow us to stand while getting some shade. In the bush we weren’t able to leave the vehicle – just as well – we were often only a few feet from the animals; animals which were largely oblivious to us.

Atanas quickly taught us new collective nouns, as we found our prey; we already knew pride of lions but a dazzle of zebras, a tower of giraffes, a parade of elephants, a rank of impala, a bloat of hippos and his favourite, an obstinacy of cape buffalo, were new to us. We parked in the middle of an obstinacy – I lost count but there were several hundred – and not one moved an inch. It seemed all of the herbivores were happy to graze amongst each other.

But, our first find, on the evening we arrived, was a group of lions consuming a fresh kill – some picking through the carcass, others tearing off a limb and stepping back with it. Soon after, we watched a cheetah mother and cub gradually awaken.

Dinner time

Our vehicle was roomy, with eight seats and only a couple from the Scottish Isle of Arran to share it with; a chance to make new friends. The Lodge was comfortable and the food good, but the hot water for showers and power for charging were only on at certain times of day, so we had to pay particular attention to the time.

Early next morning, it was back into the bush and our first sight of giraffes in the distance, looking positively prehistoric; their disjointed heads moving above the trees as they walked. Then quickly we were on the trail of adult male lions, one chasing a challenger out of his territory, roaring as he ran. Spellbound, as we shadowed him closely until our track veered, we watched him running in pursuit for miles.

After a picnic under a tree on the open savannah with only antelopes in sight, we parked on a track to watch a large family of elephants walk towards us, tearing grass up and eating it as they approached. They walked straight across and around us – it was as if we were invisible.

Hyenas munch as cat watches on

In the evening we attended ‘feeding time’ at the back of the lodge site. It was dark as a grounds man emptied a bag of food below the back wall. In the dim light we watched a group of house cats surround it; until three hyenas slunk into view. As they approached the cats withdrew, but only by a foot or two. Once the hyenas had their fill the cats moved back in – then a mongoose shot out of nowhere into the midst – the cats yowled as they leapt back. And then it was gone – show over.

It was time for us to say Lala Salama (sleep tight)…

On Safari in Masai Mara

Arranged through Pollman's Tours & Safaris Ltd www.pollmans.com

Egypt - The Nile Wrap-up

Kom Ombo Temple

Half a dozen men stood before me holding out their wares. They were all calling out: ‘Bob, Bob!’ and they joined with me as I laughed. I was walking out of the Valley of the Kings and it was a lesson; don’t give your name to a vendor. I did buy some things from them – their souk was only there for tourists, and although it was 11:30 am, our bus was the only one in the parking lot.

Many places won’t allow you to take photos inside; some won’t allow you to take your guide in with you (their voice may damage the plaster); the Valley of the Kings won’t even allow photos outside the tombs. Your price of admission gives you access to three tombs – most of them have a similar layout: a long sloping tunnel leading to a series of rooms and a main chamber, built almost 4,000 years ago. As you enter, the walls each side are carved and painted with hieroglyphics (pictorial writing) of spells from the Book of the Dead giving instruction on the journey through the afterlife. Deeper in the text gives way to illustrations of the occupant’s generally heroic life, then finally the illustrations depict the gods and their efforts to ensure the pharaoh’s eternal life. Weaved through this are evils spirits making an effort to undermine the journey and the gods battle.

Roman painting over hieroglyphs

Egypt has encouraged the study of Egyptology in universities and museums throughout the world and has donated pieces to these countries in return for their efforts in excavating these sites, although perhaps the finest collection is in The Egyptian Museum in Cairo.

Temple of Philae - Christian
scratches on figure & Greek graffiti

Most of the tombs have been raided, often soon after they were built, defying the attempts of the pharaohs to hide their burial place, unlike the earlier, ostentatious, pyramids. And the tombs and the temples have been defaced over the years, by successive generations; Romans, who appropriated the temples and plastered over the Egyptian texts, Greeks with the earliest graffiti, then Napoleon’s French troops, Gordon’s British troops, sadly even modern graffiti. In the Temple of Philae, early Christians disfigured the pagan figures, but only on one side of the temple, allowing the followers of Isis to continue using the other side - religious tolerance we could all learn from...

Fishers - Life continues

But the West Bank tombs celebrate deceased pharaohs and the Egyptians mummified their pharaohs before burial, in large temples built exclusively for that purpose close-by. The most impressive one standing is the temple of Queen Hatshepsut (hat_ship_suit), used only for her 70-day mummification process, prior to her funeral ceremony. It seems they mummified everything – cats, birds, even crocodiles…

Of course, modern Egypt is 95% Muslim; modern funerals here are very different. We passed a funeral in Aswan as we drove between temples. Muslims are buried as soon as possible, generally before sunset or within 24 hours, in a simple grave. Hussein said: “We try to bury our dead 3 to 4 hours after death. The body is wrapped in three sheets and tied with ropes to hold in place – there’s no coffin. Then the body is buried on the right side, facing Mecca."

The 1957 Mausoleum of Aga Khan III, leader of the Naziri Ismaili Muslims and grandfather of the current Aga Khan, gleams in the sunset over the Nile in Aswan. Every day his wife placed a red rose on his tomb; she’s now buried beside him but she ensured that this tradition continues.

Aga Khan Mausoleum at sunset - Aswan