In Giza: Tummy full of butterflies. I had to pinch myself. Damn, I love my job.
All the years of stinky butt/feet van tours, all the inedible food, all the sweaty gropers, the liars, lawyers, vampires, barnacles and mocking birds …
All the bad weather, the delusional stalkers and the legions of voices in their heads, the underpaid and underqualified airport security staff waving wands across my bare feet looking for WMDs, the jet lag, the ambulance chasers and depositions, the neverending parade/revolving door of deaf-but-grinning record company execs …
All the Spinal Tap moments that used to be funny until they happened to us, all the tantrums by/interactions with the socially and emotionally challenged, all the "Oh my god!" hotel bar and minibar bills …
All of these things (and too many more to list) have been worth it since ALL of these experiences, added up, have brought me here. Right to the feet of the Sphinx and the Great Pyramids in Cairo. It took a few days for the whole experience to truly sink in. I'm still buzzing. The tour guide was waffling on. But I didn't hear him. I was just staring. There are photos of the trip on my site (www.caduceus.org). And although the notion that a picture is worth a thousand words may be true, my photos don't even come close to capturing the feelings I had, scratch that, am still having. Stunning. Truly stunning. A rare opportunity indeed.
This was The Moment dreamt and spoken of over and over again in great detail during those long "non-homework" nights in college with my roommates, Ramiro and Kjiirt. "Kashmir" playing at full volume, of course. And this was the tune pounding through my head, unconsciously at first, as I ascended the Grand Gallery stairs towards the King's Chamber. The song must have been bellowing out of my ears, 'cause when we stepped into the chamber, there were no aliens. Scared them off, I suppose. I had always assumed E.T. was a Zeppelin fan. Guess not.
That evening we did one of those borderline-cheesy dinner cruises on the Nile. Huge buffet-style spread, belly dancing, music, the works. The only decent red wine on the list was a Barolo, which came corked, but I just didn't care. I was having too much fun to fret about it. We just focused on the extremely overpriced Bollinger Special Cuvée. I believe it was $400. I know. OUCH. "But, DUDE! I was on the NILE!" shall be my cry from skid row.
Karl Mark — Geneva, IL. — January 27, 2007 8:03pm ET
John Pepper Jr — January 28, 2007 12:34pm ET
Raymond Archacki Jr — Wethersfield, CT — January 28, 2007 5:55pm ET
Lisa Ruyter — Vienna Austria — January 31, 2007 1:22pm ET
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