Growing up in the sticks, I never imagined that I’d ever get to see the Pyramids of Giza, let alone crawl inside one of them. But let’s back up for a moment (have you guys gotten the impression by now that I can’t tell anything in a linear fashion?) – I was pretty much exhausted from my first day running around Cairo that I had plans to “just lie down for an hour” which turned into 12. Things like that happen from time to time.

I had an ambitious plan – get up early and go hit the Pyramids before it got too hot out. Temperatures in Cairo were in the 90’s range with the sun and the dryness sucking the water out of you. I loaded up with 2 liters of water with plans to buy more while I was there and left the hotel around 7:20am in order to catch them as they opened at 8am. The upside of staying close to the Pyramids is that I thought I could walk it, which upon retrospect, isn’t the smartest thing I’ve done (in a long line of stupid things I’ve done). As I’m fond of saying, the map showed that it was “only two inches” away and it was a good 30 minute walk.

Like anything in Egypt, there’s the general admission and always additional entry fees to all the cool stuff. It was 50 Egyptian Pounds (US$9) to get into the Pyramids and another 100 Egyptian Pounds to go enter Cheops. I paid for my separate admission fee and queued up like a good tourist. There was no photography allowed (they had people confiscating and holding cameras) along with wanding with a handheld metal detector. It sort of ruined my day – I was so hoping that I could sneak in my pocket camera to get a shot or two. I don’t know how these ‘tards got in and took photos, but I’m jealous. Maybe things have changed.

We entered Cheops and crawled inside what amounts to a 3 foot high passageway that was probably 150 feet long and at a 40 degree incline. It made a great hike climb, considering it was by far the most humid place I’ve ever been in. My highly scientific estimate was approximately 4 billion percent humidity inside. I did score some serious cool points with my badass Fenix flashlight and lit the way. Eventually we got into the King’s Chamber, where the humidity felt like it tripled. We spent some time looking inside and it didn’t hit me until later that – holy shit, I’m in one of the Great Fucking Pyramids! Getting down was more of a hassle – it was sort of scary and a bit claustrophobic. After about 10 minutes, I got out of the Great Pyramids of Cheops, grabbed my bag, paid my baksheesh and realized that I was drenched in my own sweat. I pounded a liter of water and felt like I got my ass kicked. Also, your legs will take a pounding. Even with my awesome quads from cycling and enduring things in the past like Kilimanjaro and other long hikes, this was something new. My legs were beat and it took a few days to recover.

At the back of the Great Pyramid of Cheops is the Solar Boat Museum. It was designed to carry Khufu’s mummy across the Nile for burial. I was amazed at the level of craftsmanship that was displayed and even more impressed by the renovation of the boat itself. It was pretty cool. When people packed for the afterlife, they didn’t leave things behind. I only wish someone would bury me with a Santa Cruz 52’ or a J130 for the afterlife so I can go sail when I want to. His boat was roughly 150 feet long. Some guys get all the luck.

Chefre and Menakure were equally cool Pyramids. It’s hard to say something original about them, but I sat and took it all in. I wondered what it would be like to be here during the building and what it cost in terms of lives, materials and time. I’ve read a good number of books on pyramid building theories, essays on what comprised the workforce, and the effort involved (whomever calculated the effort in calories is a lot cooler than I am.) It must have been something to sit and watch this during construction with the thousands of workers involved, and the thousands of people who supported the laborers. It would have been something to just sit and watch.

After a few hours of walking around (mental note: The Pyramids aren’t really walkable, and you’re asking for trouble if you decide that riding a camel/horse is awesome.) Like any of the cool open-air museums that Egypt has to offer, they also have people who are more than willing to pose for photos, let you into “closed” things and lead you around as impromptu tour guides for cash. If you’re planning a tour of the Giz Plateau, it’s probably a good idea to bring small notes (LE10, or $1.80) for baksheesh. Everyone’s up for it, including the police. In a way, it’s much like Chicago – a favor or a few offered cigarettes might get the police to turn a blind eye or cut you some slack.

The Sphinx was pretty damn slick. I’m not entirely sure what it was to represent, but again the craftsmanship was definitely something to behold. The problem that I had was I’m trying to deconstruct and then reconstruct this from an engineer’s perspective, then expand that into project planning. So I’m wondering – what sort of person got to work on the Sphinx? How long did it take? How many people? What were they trying to build and why? In a way, spending time with the Pyramids and the Sphinx were maddening. Every question I had answered had 20 more come up.

I left the Giza Plateau after about 6 hours and exited near the Sphinx. And as fate or fortune smiled upon me, I stumbled across a Pizza Hut. It clearly was a sign, so I made a beeline towards the PH and had a nice meal, making it my 22nd country I’ve had PH in. It’s quite sad, but it hit the spot.

I got back to the hotel, crashed by the pool, tried to push fluids as best as I could and took a taxi to Giza Station to catch my overnight train to Luxor. I was looking forward to an overnight train ride – I had my own cabin (I was willing to share, but I didn’t get a bunkmate) and managed to get a decent night’s sleep. I was thinking of the Valley of the Kings and it was time to get there.

Photo “Giza pyramids” by feelix on Flickr

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Since I’m one of those guys who’s a meticulous planner, I have a handful of visa applications filled out and in a desk drawer, because with me – you just never know.

Getting into Russia is pretty crazy – not only do you have to fill out the visa applications (which was more intensive than my NU applications), get visa support and then immediately register with the authorities. Sweet! Who loves bureaucracy? I do!

27. List all countries you have visited in the last ten years and indicate the year of visit

Please see attached book.

31. List all professional, civil and charity organizations which you are (were) a member of, or contribute (contributed) to, or work (worked) with

Between the boat club, the museum and other stuff, I’m sure I’m going to raise red flags.

32. Do you have any specialized skills, training or experience related to fire-arms and explosives or to nuclear, biological or chemical activities? If «Yes», please explain

Um, this is me we’re talking about. I’ll just have to lie.

33. Have you ever performed military service? If «Yes», indicate the country, branch of service, rank, military occupation and dates of service

Being a pirate counts, right?

34. Have you ever been involved in an armed conflict, either as a member of the military service or a victim? If «Yes», please explain

I live in Chicago. That should be enough.

Have you ever tried to obtain or assisted others to obtain a Russian visa or enter Russia by providing misleading or false information?

Hey wait a minute! Are you trying to trick me?

Have you ever been deported from Russia?

“Not yet” is not a checkbox.

Photo “Spasa-na-krovi Cathedral” by _neona_ on Flickr

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I thought I’d jot some notes down about my planning of the Trans-Siberian Railway come March of 2009. It’ll definitely be an adventure, but it’s also testing out my awesome logistic skills and trying to plan everything out ahead of time.

If you’re interested in doing this trip yourself, or at least seeing the method to my madness, keep reading. This is all the pre-planning many months out. And of course, it’s the Hawkins 7.

Step One: Read the awesome Seat61.com guide to the Trans-Siberian Railway.
All good journeys start with a first step, and this is the best way to get your feet wet with thinking about the journey. And then start buying books. The Lonely Planet Trans-Siberian book sucks, but Bryn Thomas’ Trans-Siberian Railway book kicks ass.

Step Two: Figure out where you want to stop off.
If I wanted to lock myself on a train for a week, I’d take Amtrak somewhere. But I wanted to see Moscow, see some of Siberia, see Lake Baikal and of course, Mongolia. I’m doing two major stops on the train from Moscow to Beijing – Irkutsk and then Ulan Bator, Mongolia. If I had the time or money, I’d consider stopping at the major stops, even though it seems like there’s just a day’s worth of stuff to see.

Step Three: Beg for time off of work.
Enough said. I’m taking three weeks.

Step Four: Check out the timetables.
“Duh.” Well yes, I know that this is a no brainer, but it’s important to know which trains run on what days, and plan your trip around that instead of when you want to go. As much as I’d like to stop in various places along the way, it’s going to be drawing out a long process.

Step Five: Construct a draft of the itinerary.
I’ve been sketching one out in Google Documents. I know, a spreadsheet – but at least I didn’t use Microsoft Project and bust out a Gantt chart. As you can see, I’ve got 2 days in Irkutsk and 3 days or so in Ulan Bator with a few days in Moscow and Beijing on either end. Those I can be flexible with – the ones in the middle I can’t.

Step Six: Start looking at flights.
The Seat61 guy, being London based, said that it’s cheating to fly from the UK to Moscow to do the Trans-Siberian. However, since I’m about 3950 miles west of London, I decided that I’d rather spend the time I would have spent going from London to Moscow via rail actually exploring Moscow and having a good time. I cashed in some frequent flier miles and got the ticket taken care of. Otherwise, it’s a major pain to find one-way tickets from those cities, but it can be done.

Step Seven: Start saving money.
I budgeted $1000 for the train ticket itself, and it’s reasonable considering it’s lodging + entertainment + transport. What I need to save my shekels for is Moscow. It’s the most expensive city in the world, and I’m struggling to conceptualize as to why though. If you ever want an eye-opener, look at hotel prices in Moscow. Even 2-3 star hotels are $200 a night.

As the trip approaches, another Hawkins 7 list will pop up dealing with those fun things like visas, currency, gadgets and all the things that make life worth living.

Photo “Trans-Siberian Railway” by yeowatzup on Flickr

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