First place was Del Al Madina and I was the only person there so I explored all these caves the workers used to live. I really lamented the fact that I didn’t go the 100m back for the torch when I had the chance. The caves just went deep into the mountain and I crawled up a few and bumped my head and stubbed a few toes before giving up. It wasn’t the bats flying past my head at all, I swear. No sir.

I went into this temple and this little kid wanted his photo so I took it and then showed him, so just to make sure it was real he squeezed my camera screen so hard it ruined my screen for a week, the little prick. I made a note to myself, No more pictures of little bastards.

A man told me not go into this one cave, so when he wasn’t looking I went to find out what he was hiding. He was hiding this deep, deep pit so I crawled onto this precarious ledge to get a better look at it. I couldn’t see the bottom so I dropped this rock down and it took quite a while to get to the bottom. This was no natural pit either, some crazy people had dug it. Crazy ancient Egyptians. Didn’t they realise how hot it was? Definitely too hot to be digging bottomless pits in the middle of the desert. I guess if they had dug it to keep the monkey butlers in there it would be ok. I instantly regretted the rock dropping and hoped any monkey butlers down there forgave me.

It soon became apparent that I wasn’t getting out of this ledge any time soon seeing as I had a bit of a blind drop and twist mixed with a reverse twirl to get off it, with the only landing from a slip being down with the now angry monkey butlers. A troubling conundrum. I was about to give up and throw myself to a quick death, instead of dying a slow painful death of thirst and hunger and heat stroke, 5 minutes later when I got off without incidence.

After getting into trouble from the man he said, “You want ancient treasure? 4000 years old”, as he showed me a bunch of small statues.

I looked at them dubiously, “How much?”

“£500”

“Oh right, for genuine ancient Egyptians statues 2cm tall?”

“Yes”

Seeing as I didn’t come down in the last shower the small shining ‘ancient’ statues didn’t tempt me.

“Water?” He asked me.

“Yes I do have some water.” And drank a little bit, I had bought a 1.5lt bottle earlier.

He said something about Ramadan.

“Pity you have Ramadan otherwise I would give you some mate.” I said to the wheezing, hot, parched old man as I walked off.

I walked off to begin the walk over the mountain mission. About 50m into the mountain I began thinking crazy thoughts like £10 isn’t that much to pay a taxi driver, cough, splutter, wheeze. It didn’t last long though seeing as I pretty much was too hot and exhausted to do any coherent, foolish thinking.

I also had other things on my mind because I was looking up at the looming mountain without a single outcrop, cave or vegetation. My holy quest against taxi drivers was soon lost deep in the ravings of a mad mind. I pushed on.

30 minutes without a break and my legs were shaking and I was hunched over like an old Turkish woman stumbling from rock to rock. Time had lost all meaning to me and I was seeing things. Sweat glistened all over me and my 1.5 litres of water was nearly empty. I licked my gummy lips and looked up to see a man with a donkey. I thought I was hallucinating but I sat down in the shade of the donkey and talked to the imaginary man. He answered back, apparently he was real.

“Hello, welcome, where you from?” rah rah rah.

I gave him some water and realised the other man probably wanted some as well. Egyptians can’t buy water or carry it around, regardless if they are Muslim, during Ramadan. He was so happy at my generosity (which it was seeing as I was about to die of dehydration myself) he invited me back to his house for a tea. He pointed to his house back down the way I had come. I politely refused his offer. I said my goodbyes.

I was feeling revived after my sit in the shade of the donkey so set a cracking pace. I was just getting into my stride.

“Hell, Welcome, Where you from?”

There didn’t seem to be any roads near so I deduced he wasn’t a taxi driver.

“Australia, Mika.”

“Come sit with me.”

He had a nice bit of shade so I obliged.

He pulled out some statues, “£60”

“I really don’t want them.”

“Ok, how much then?”

I shot for the moon and more like my prices, “£5”

For some reason he laughed. I looked at my dwindling supply of £1 notes which I use for baksheesh(bribes) so I bargained with him for a while and got it for £16. Enough for 4 £1 notes.

I said my goodbyes and soon reached the top. A real sense of euphoria came over me as I looked around at the view and thought about the fact that I didn’t have to go up anymore and even more importantly no bloody taxi driver had gotten his little sticky fingers into my wallet, yet.

Strangely enough I had met no other tourists on my journey. I really don’t know why because the view was really quite spectacular. Covered in sweat I began the downwards journey. It was only half as high down I noticed gratefully. I was soon met by an Egyptian.

“Hello, welcome, where you from?” and then without waiting for a reply, “can you change 20 euro for me please?”

“How much Egyptian pounds is that?”

“I am desperate so I will do you a favour, only £150”

Seeing as the rate was about £5 or £6 a euro I didn’t see how much of a favour he was actually doing me.

“Ok I will see you this statue for £60” he replied to my negative on the exchange.

I seemed to be doing well with the £5 call so I tried it again and wasn’t much surprised with his laugh. “Don’t be crazy.”

I laughed back, “Don’t YOU be crazy.”

“Ok £55”

“Ok £5 deal” and I went to grab it.

He didn’t let me have it so I walked off.

He followed me for ages and I struck up a deal for £16 again, but in the confusion of changing and swapping notes I only ended up paying £11 for it.

Near the bottom I found a man guarding a tomb.

“How much is a ticket?”

“£10 but you have to buy it from the office.”

“Where is the office?”

“About 15 minutes walk away.” Pretty much the last thing in the world I wanted to do seeing as my legs were pretty much made of jelly and something else as wobbly as jelly.

“Cant I just pay you?” I pleaded and waved a big fat juicy £10 under his nose.

He looked around suspiciously and stealthily grabbed the note flapping under his nose. You can always count on the Egyptian greed. You are not supposed to take pictures but I didn’t anyway because no-one was in there with me.

Outside I asked, “Can you show me any other ones?” with another £10 note flapping in the breeze. The money disappeared into his robes. He unlocked one not open to the public and let me have a look around. He then showed me where the entrance to a secret 2.5km tunnel through the mountain. Unfortunately he didn’t have the key for that puppy so I only gave him £1 for his efforts.

All the other tombs were filled with tourists so I knew I couldn’t bribe any guards so I did the walk to the office. I had no idea where it was.

“Excuse me do you know where the office is?” I asked a European tour guide.

“You passed it on the way in.”

“I came from over the mountain.”

“I have never heard of anyone doing that before, some people go from this side because it is not as high..”

“Taxi drivers.” I said with a shudder.

“Yes people can take a taxi.”

“I don’t.” She looked at me like I was crazy, perhaps I am.

There was a little mini bus you could take to the entrance costing £1 but I was dubious as to whether they counted as a taxi so walked instead to be on the safe side.

In each of the 3 tombs I visited the guards came out with bulging pockets and me a stack of pictures. Expensive pictures. It was worth it though because no-one else has pictures of the tombs.

By then it was after mid afternoon and boiling hot and my water had totally ran out. So I did the only smart thing, thought about taxi drivers and climbed back over the mountain. I went a different way and found this really cool track down the cliff. It was full on Indiana Jones style. A path about 50cm wide and sheer drop on each side about 50m high. My legs were totally shaking by now because of lack of water, food and exhaustion so that made it even more exciting. It was probably the best thing of the whole day.

At the bottom crawling seemed like the order of the day. I had even stopped sweating by then because there was no fluid left in my body. I was also ruing the day I forgot my sunscreen and hat as well, that day being then.

After what seemed a very long time I stumbling into a store. “How much for water?” I croaked.

He looked me up and down, did some Egyptian calculations, how thirsty a tourist is, the thickness of their wallet * standard price (£2) times how desperate he is.

“£10” he said after his eyes had registered a jackpot.

My pride didn’t let me pay that much.

Next store. A different tact.

“I’ll give you £3 for water.” And just grabbed it.

“£5” My resolve was wearing thin. Even the coolness of the water and the condensation on my skin was like a drink of water.

“Ok £4” and handed him the last of my £1 notes and stumbled off. It was double the price but every drop was like liquid gold to me.

I was walking back but I was beat. I had walked in the hot Saharan sun over rocky terrain up and over two mountains with no more than a 2 minute break, continuously, without food or much water for about 6 hours.

I failed. I hailed the taxi. It was a sad day and one I will rue forever. They won. He ripped me off and refused by refusing to give me any change. I had been thinking clearer I would have done something more so all I did was slam his door so hard it buckled a little, maybe that was from the little kick I gave it though. The cursing, lying, cheating, thieving taxi drivers. I couldn’t believe I had been gotten, again. Ripped me off £2(50c) he did. It was the principle of it though. The whole way back I planned the downfall of the taxi driver empire and its Jihad against me. Just for the record all I need now is my army of Holy Monkey butlers and everything will be in place.

I got back and Hannah was where I had left her, moaning on her sick bed. I thought then that maybe she really was quite sick. She was even quiet. I was about to rush her to hospital but she managed a feeble greeting so I called off emergency stations. It was touching she even called me her precious.