Hall's Journals

Friday, March 1, 1929

Another day of not much but writing and reading. Jackie came for me this morning and gave me a half-dozen oranges. Mail is still scarce. The hotel tried to toss in an extra day on my bill and the American Express Co. gave me a counterfeit 5-piastre piece which I returned. The cashier stuck it back in the money [box] to get rid of it to the next person. Was going to visit the New York today, but they had some trouble with visitors the other day and now no visitors are allowed on board. I have been seeing lots of young vamp types lately. All decked out in paint and short skirts. Hard to tell whether they are 15 or 25. Since the boys told these hawkers we were broke and trying to borrow money, they have been after me to sell my rings and Beta pin, and one wanted to buy my pants! I need them though. Fifty cents for my pin, two small boxes of candy for a ring and two of candy and a fez for both rings. One was set on buying my pin to give to his dusky wife as a souvenir. And the irony of it all—the woman across the way today strung up two pairs of unmentionables on the clothesline, one pink and the other blue!

Had cocoa this evening with Jackie. If he voices Egypt’s feelings toward England, I predict a rough time ahead for the latter. He claims Allenby instigated the death of the Pasha of Sudan, that for her aid to England during the Great War, Egypt was to have her freedom. But England backed down after the war. In theory, Egypt is free, but in practice it is not. The Egyptians not only dislike English here, but French, Italians, Greeks, etc. He claims they like Americans to live in Egypt and would be satisfied if America controlled the government. Exactly the same feeling seems to be prevalent in Palestine.

The P&O ship Nankin, not so large, is in tonight full of troops for India. This is the second or third troop ship through here for India recently. A good-sized ship of Ellerman’s City Line just sailed south.

Sunday, March 3, 1929

Saturday and today I have not done much of anything and a little bit of everything. A letter from Frank today said they would be back about Friday 8th so the chances are we shall take my Roosevelt Line cargo boat at three per day toward the last of the month. My check had better be arriving soon as I have about seven kicks left. Had cocoa with Jackie last night. He really makes it, too. Nice hot day but turned cloudy in the late afternoon and stayed that way today.

The P&O Nankin, Orient Orsava, and a Dutch ship all came in last night and the hawkers and cafe waiters were busy yelling to drum up trade till long after midnight. I woke up once and heard them yelling so thought it was morning. Must have been about one. The 20,000 Europeans in Port Said were out 100% and all dressed up. Bum bike riders still continue to bump into each other on the corner and from the yelling, another ship is in tonight.

Wednesday, March 6, 1929

Not a whole lot doing these days. I spend much of the time reading French or books on Palestine, India, etc. Days are warm and nights lately have been rather cool. I have some cocoa every evening with Jak and yesterday he gave me more oranges. Sometimes the rendezvous is in a little cigarette stand across the street from the Lloyd Triestimo, for which he works, or else down in the basement of the same building. Evidently two of the men sleep down there and in the evenings play cards on a box-table by a coal-oil lamp. I have many Moslem friends about town now, most of whom are either hawkers, or work for L.T. as sailors, night-watchmen, messengers, etc.

I often see a Moslem at his prayers at noon or in the evening. Last night I got in on one first-hand in the basement. Removing the shoes, they stand erect saying “There is no other God but God and Mohammed is his prophet,” or something similar, a certain number of times. Then they bring their hands up alongside their face and let them drop and say something else a certain number of times, finally kneel, say more, touch their forehead to the ground, raise it, say more, etc. three times I believe. I’ll have to get up on my Mohammedanism. Different chapters of the Koran are also recited. The main object appears to be how quickly they can get through it. They recite it so fast that only the first few words are intelligible and the rest is mumbled, lower and lower as the individual runs out of breath. At the next breath you can hear a little at first and soon. . . It all takes about ten minutes.

There are three young men who work in Cook’s here who don’t help my appetite any. In fact, it is mutual. I can’t decide whether they are English or half-breeds, but they act like His Majesty the King and barely condescend to wait on customers. Yesterday an American woman was asking about a deck passage to India and “Lovely” insisted there was no such thing while I insisted there was. Wonder if she got it. I showed her where to go to get a boat today for Bombay. She has been away two years and is staying two more.

Finally sewed some shirt-tail in my socks to fill up the open spaces and it doesn’t look bad at all. I knew a French boat was in yesterday morning without leaving my roof-garden. One look at the strut (and wobble) on a mademoiselle in the street below spoke better than words. Also a German ship came in. Two Italians today, including the Genova. I could [not] leave if I wanted to as I only have about three dollars to my name. No check, no mail. I’m sure Am.Exp. is not forwarding any more, so have asked the boys to investigate.

11:30PM — Have spent the evening with the cellar gang, having my cocoa and eating sugar-cane. They are all much impressed by America and keep asking me about it. I got Jak started on religion tonight and he went strong. Among other things, Moslems believe in 25 prophets, Christ one of them and unmarried, while Mohammed is the last prophet and married. Some day Christ will come again, visit Damascus, and pray there with Mohammed, will visit Jerusalem, then Mecca and Medina. When a Moslem dies, his body remains on Earth. His “life” or I suppose soul remains on Earth twenty years, visiting his family weekly and also visiting Damascus, Daenietta, Jerusalem, Mecca, and Medina. Then it rises up to the seventh heaven where it has to account for its deeds, good and evil, to an official of God’s. Then it goes to Jerusalem where is the gate of heaven, and waits in a tomb for I think twenty years. I couldn’t learn what happened after that. Perhaps the soul remains in this tomb till the Day of Judgment. In the Mosque of Omar is a stone that rings hollow, or rather in the grotto below the Rock, I believe. This is the tomb where the souls stay. In their visits to the family, etc. they appear as flies. Perhaps that is why these Egyptian flies are so persistent.

Contrary to yesterday, the Canal was a busy place today. The P&O Mautau and Lloyd T. (Italian) Insulinde and another, French probably, this afternoon, and the English City of York and Italian Genova tonight, not to mention several cargo-passenger and cargo boats and a British destroyer. The night is very mild, nearly 70° at midnight and over 80° in the late afternoon. These hawkers are amusing. They are always in a big heated argument among themselves and with the cops lately as the latter are bearing down upon them. $2.70 between me and Chicago via India.

Thursday, March 7, 1929

The joke is on me. Had a letter from Dad today saying my check is in Bombay—and here I am 3,059 miles away with just $1.67 exactly. Mail took 26 days to Cairo. Today was another of those big clean-up affairs. I started trimming my hair. Once I start it is hard to stop. Consequently I cut plenty off the sides and hacked away at the back where I couldn’t see, but left all on top alone. Feels pretty good in back, but probably doesn’t look it. Down in the cellar again tonight. Jak wants to make me a Moslem and give me a fez and shirt. Tonight I learned that only the white flies are souls of those departed. Bugs, trees, flowers, animals, and all living things worship God. When a Moslem eats or drinks and is satisfied, he always thanks God by saying “alhambulelam”, rather “al hambul Elam” or what sounds like it. They are not to drink liquors but many do. There is a light wine or beverage they do drink. Prayer at 4:30AM—11:30 to 11:45—3:30PM to 3:45—5:30—or 6:45 or thereabouts. The hours are only approximate, the main thing is to pray five times a day at a time near these hours. In the morning before the first prayer he washed his hands, then his lips and teeth with his forefingers of both hands, then his eyes, nose, and ears; forearm right and left, and legs and supposedly the body, all the time repeating parts from the Koran. Each Ramadan the Moslem must give 2½% of his earnings to the poor. Of course, not many comply with this faithfully, especially the rich. Also, twice during Ramadan the rich must feed the poor, and with the same food he himself is used to eat. Mohammedanism is a hard religion and its followers seem much more faithful on the whole than are Christians. They do not hesitate to kneel down and pray before several strangers or by the side of the street—a thing you would hardly see a Christian do.

Friday, March 8, 1929

It rained today for a change, but only a shower or two. I tried to do some good on a boat to India by some other line, but it appears that about all ways are exhausted and the only thing left is to sit tight till the 25th or thereabouts—me and my 75¢. Had two letters from Mort saying they would probably be in tomorrow. The Tigris and a Jap boat were in today with two or three smaller ones.

I might visit Alexandria but I doubt if it is really worth it to me. It is a city of 450,000, a great seaport of Egypt and also for the Sudan, and is pretty in spots. Little is known or remains of the old port excepting some tombs and Pompei’s Pillar, a misnomer because it was erected in honor of the Emperor Diocletian and had nothing to do with Pompei. As to the classic Alexandria, “Its antiquity is not to be compared with that of the rest of Egypt. Before the day of Alexander the Great, its founder, there used to be a village on the spot, but it was unknown. Struck by its useful position between the sea and Lake Mareotis, and flanked by Pharos Island, Alexander turned it into the premier seaport of his empire. The Ptolemys, his successors—most famous among them Cleopatra, the queen enamored of Julius Caesar and Mark Antony—made of it the most beautiful, magnificent city in the Eastern Mediterranean with a wealthy Greek and Jewish population and magnificent buildings of which not a vestige remains today. The birth of Christianity saw the city swept with fanatic strife and bloodshed, but her actual decay began when Constantine in an evil moment founded Constantinople. The invading Arabs saw little to interest them in the port, and thus Alexandria lingered on until in the 19th century, the Khedive Mohammed Ali brought the Mahmoudieh Canal from the Nile to Alexandria and a subsequent ruler spent millions on the great harbor and attracted thither the shipping of Europe, now again greatly diverted to Port Said. The British occupation of Egypt began with the bombardment of Alexandria in 1882.”

From Port Said to El Kantara the RR, road, and a small canal and the Suez Canal skirt the eastern shore of Lake Manzaleh. El Kantara was used during the war as a base for operations for Palestine. From time immemorial the invaders from Asia have penetrated into Egypt by this route. England gained a control of the Canal when it bought up the shares of the Khedive Ismail Pasha, though at first it had been opposed to the Canal for political reasons.

Cairo — “Although the Cairo of today is the direct offspring of the medieval city of Al Tahira the Victorious, founded in the tenth century, it is in reality of vastly greater antiquity, for the area of which it is the center has been from time immemorial of capital importance. In very remote times there was an ancient Egyptian city in the same neighborhood, bearing a similar name. Then came Memphis which was for centuries the seat of the dynasty and the most important city of the empire. Memphis gave way in time to a city which the Greeks called Babylon, founded during the 6th century B.C., during the Persian domination, which in its turn was the parent of Al Fostat, the Camp, built upon the ruins of Babylon by the Arab conquerors in the time of the Caliph Omar in the 7th century A.D. Al Fostat is now known as Old Cairo and, although not altogether without interest, the site of the old city consists mostly of mounds of rubbish in which potsherds are the commonest relics. Al Fostat was destroyed when Gohar, with an army of the Fatimite Caliph, conquered Egypt in the tenth century, and present-day Cairo was founded to the north of the old city.

“The name is said to be derived from the Arabic name for the planet Mars, Al Kahir, the Conqueror, which was high in the night heavens at the time and to this day the Arabic name of the city is Al Qahira The Victorious. The name was certainly appropriate for within a very short time Cairo became the greatest city of Islam, the center of learning by virtue of the great university of Al Azhar, which has provided Islam with learned doctors for ten centuries, and the center of political power by virtue of the ascendancy of the Fatimite Caliphs.

But no other city except Constantinople had a more sanguinary history. As in Turkey the Janissaries dominated the sultans, so in Egypt the Mamelukes assassinated or massacred all who stood in their way. Through the centuries the story of Al Qahira is that of bloody plots and counter-plots, of homicidal maniacs like Hashim who forced the populace to worship him, and Mameluke leaders who deposed sultans for their own ends, and were themselves destroyed by the sword, torture, or poison. It is doubtful, indeed, whether even Constantinople can excel the amazing story of Cairo, with its relationship to the mighty cities of antiquity, like Memphis and Heliopolis, the Biblical On, its early connection with the mighty world power of Persia, and its headship of Islam during the brilliant period of Moslem culture and power, even after the conquest of Egypt by the Turks in the sixteenth century. In comparatively modern times the story of the city is replete with romance, for it was captured by Napoleon at the beginning of the nineteenth century, and after the British occupation of the country in 1882, rose once again to the status of one of the world’s greatest cities. Heliopolis is now the flying center of Egypt as well as a very fashionable suburb of Cairo.”

Sunday, March 10, 1929

Yesterday afternoon I went in the market for a brass coffee set. The Egyptians are very good at brass work and sell plenty of it. After the cocoa in the evening, Jak and I went to a friend’s shop where we finally got a dandy set for £3.5. It is of hammered brass with silver. The boys came back last night and Jak was up in the room till 12:30. Then when he left, we sat up till after three. I was plenty fed because I didn’t go to Luxor with them. In fact, the thought spoiled my sleep and I got up at seven. By eight I had decided to go to Luxor after all. I haven’t seen Egypt till I’ve been up the Nile. So I packed my junk and left it with them, put a couple of things in a knapsack and, forgetting the tin containing my comb, tooth-brush, shaving outfit, etc., left at noon. They are lending me the money for everything. This will sink me financially, but it will be worth it I am sure.

It is a beautiful day but the desert ride is a terribly dusty one. I feel like a dust road now, sitting in a Finnish Restaurant in Cairo, waiting for the chef to come so I can have a famous Omelette Special. The usual crowd of noisy natives filled the car. And dirt! Dust so thick you couldn’t see the color of the seats and all through the air. A mother across the aisle half undressed her two-year-old en route and let her do tricks on the floor of the aisle.

The dust mostly disappeared when we came to the fertile irrigated section after a couple of hours. Here oxen pulled crude wooden plows through the fields, others turned old wooden water-wheels for the irrigation ditches, the same as 4,000 years ago. Donkeys or camels passed along the road or stood in the fields while the family worked at tilling or digging—all barefooted. A few native boats slipped along the small canal. Mud villages under the tall palms whisked by, and finally on the right the pyramids loomed on the horizon. I have a two-hour wait now till seven, then an all-night ride to Luxor. Fare E£1.19.

Monday, March 11, 1929

Well, I finally got the Omelette Special and it’s the best thing I’ve tasted in months. About 8 by 5 inches and two high, all crisp in the outer frills and with jelly inside. Made sort of like a waffle. I got to the train twenty minutes early and it was already packed. As today Ramadan is over and as it is the Moslem Xmas, everybody was present. I asked a couple of men to put their boxes on the floor, though, and thus got a seat. Both proved more than nice to me; one speaking a few words of English tried to teach me some Arabic. I proudly wrote my name for him in Arabic and darned if he didn’t pronounce it Ditla Leoybic. I cheerfully lied, that was it exactly. The car had seats for 112, but very nearly 160 were in it all the way to Luxor. Sometimes it got so crowded you couldn’t even move a foot for two hours at a time. At others we had to drape them over boxes and baskets.

A corporal in the army spoke English pretty well and was also extremely nice to me, even to insisting on getting me coffee when a man came through the car selling it. All about me wanted to share their dinner of bread and perhaps an orange or hard-boiled egg. The car was filthy with dust and dirt brought in by the passengers. Boxes, bags, etc. piled high all down the aisle so you could barely get through by much climbing. I was near the door though. About half pulled off their sandals or shoes and curled up or squatted and tried to sleep. They lay all over the aisle and even on the floor under the seats. After midnight it became pretty chilly. People, one after the other, would climb over everybody and go out the door, leaving it stand open. This sure got my friends down and especially a big sleepy-looking very black job all wrapped up in a black cape and scarf about the head. He was right against the door and was always awakened, just as he got to sleep, by the door opening or being left open. The two ugliest women in Egypt sat across the aisle from me. Both smoked (the first I have seen here) and obviously for effect. In fact, one lit half a dozen or more fags, took a few puffs, then passed it to her unfortunate and nice-looking husband to finish. I dozed off a few times but was always conscious of what was going on about me.

At six the eastern sky began to grow pale slowly. Then the gray gave way to a narrow stripe of pale orange sky along the horizon. This slowly widened and grew upwards, forming four distinct shades of oranges in separate bands, the lower more nearly approaching red. But the most extraordinary sight was the color of the sky above this—a green, which very slowly faded to gray higher in the sky. This weird green lasted only a few minutes. The sun did not appear for a long time after the whole east was a light orange. We had crossed the Nile and were on the east side not far from the river. A thin veil of mist hung over the low flat country. Sometimes we could see huge high cliffs of sandstone or of limestone on one side or the other or perhaps both. The striations showed clearly even at several miles and they gave the early morning scene a charmed atmosphere.

Mud villages under the palms rushed by, People on their way to the fields or towns rode along paths on donkeys or camels, or walked. Shepherds were driving their goats to pasture; oxen were pulling old wooden plows through the fields; a camel or ox slowly turned a large wooden waterwheel by going around in a ceaseless circle, or perhaps a barefooted native was dipping it up from one level to the other, for the little irrigation ditches cut the fields every few feet. This is a laborious task—a bucket at the end of a long pole and a big rock weight at the other, held up in the center by another pole stuck in the ground.

Finally arrived in Luxor at 8:30 AM. The town is a fair-sized one, practically all native. A few hotels take care of the multitude of tourists, mostly Americans and English but lots of French, Germans, and even Egyptians. The pretty Winter Palace is on the Nile and has a fine view.

There is plenty of dirt in Luxor, lots of beggars, and plenty of dragomen and mule owners, etc. All the children beg for baksheesh from three years old up. It is a habit with them. When you pass them they say baksheesh every time, perhaps never looking around to see if you “loosen up.” The boys and men are as bad or worse. Four out of five of these guards of the monuments, donkey drivers, dragomen, etc. will ask for a cigarette. If you haven’t one, they ask for money to get it with. Perhaps they will fall in and tag you with the street for a block or so and expect a tip for telling you something about a temple or pointing out an object to you. This afternoon a boy driving a camel asked me for a cigarette so I spoke back in French to get rid of him. It did, but as I walked away, he said “Go on away” in English. I turned around and asked him what he said. It was hard to keep from laughing for he was so frightened he nearly knocked his donkey over in trying to get away, at the same time telling me he was speaking to a boy about 200 feet up the road coming toward us.

Flies and fleas are the curse of Luxor. At the present time the streets and country are filled with swarms of flies which insist upon flying in your eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. I have talked to natives who not only had flies in their eyes and on their face, but crawling on their lips and teeth! And babies and young children are literally covered with the pests, and seemingly take little notice of them. The Europeans and a few natives carry bamboo things that resemble a small broom, only more bushy, or else a more elaborate one of horse-hairs with ivory or leather handles. These are an absolute necessity for any degree of comfort at all. Frank lent me his nice leather one and I never go out without it. It is not an occasional fly you shoo away but a continuous, persistent horde that forever buzzes around your head and all settle if you relax your vigil for a moment. Thus as early as the first afternoon, the constant motion of this fly-chaser has become a habit. However, with the sunset they disappear. I have seen but one mosquito to date, but the fleas are just about to arrive on the scene, in fact, the vanguard is already here. In the summer months there are no flies.

The Thebes Hotel is two blocks from the river on a nice little park full of pretty flowers and everywhere around are luxuriant palms. There is a large vine of bougainvillea growing up a tree that is nothing less than passionate—a violent, deep, sensuous purple.

Luxor numbers nearly 20,000, but it is all native except a few European hotels along the river or near it. In the morning I visited the Temple of Luxor, and for several hours in the afternoon, Karnac, the greatest pile of ruins on Earth. It is stupendous and bewildering. It defies all description and the only way I can even begin to describe it is to refer to two guide books. The roads in and about Luxor are all a fine dust which immediately gets everything filthy. There is no way to escape it, even by riding cars, donkeys, or carriages for the dust is about the ruins too. This applies to the other side of the river also.

“The Temple of Luxor stands on the river bank in the center of Luxor of today. The city is 450 miles south from Cairo on the east bank of the river and owes its importance as one of the leading winter resorts in the world to its position on the site of ancient Thebes and to Mr. J.M. Cook, the late, who has made it a tourist center. Luxor is a corruption of the Arabic name Al Uksur, which means “the palaces.” Until 1886 the place was but a small mud village, dirty and ill-kept. The American Mission has a Boarding School for Girls here.”

[Lifted and paraphrased from the two guide books:] Ancient Thebes stood on both sides of the Nile and was generally called in hieroglyphics xx, Uast; that part of the city which was situated on the east bank of the river and included Karnac and Luxor appears to have been called xxxx, Apet or ‘throne city’, whence the Coptic zzz and the name Thebes have been derived. It is not known who founded Thebes. Some say it is the most ancient city of Egypt, others that, like Memphis, it was founded by Menes, and others that it was a colony from Memphis. Excavations by Mr. Geo. Legrain prove that the Temple of Karnac of the XVIIIth dynasties stood upon the ruins of one of the XIth, and this in turn upon one of the second, or about 4133 B.C. Thebes stood on a broad plain several miles in extent on both sides of the river. Back from the river the rocky mountains sweep down to meet the fertile valley. It has been estimated that Paris could be put in this plain. The size of ancient Thebes is not known, but from the remains, the descriptions of Strabo and Diodorus must be OK. In the Iliad it is referred to as having ‘100 gates and 20,000 war chariots.’ Someone says the army was composed of 700,000 and another, 1,000,000 men. The city must have reached its highest point of splendor in the XVIIIth and XIXth dynasties, as little by little the local god Amen-Ra became the god of all Egypt.

Homer writes:

Nor Thebes so much renown’d/Whose courts with unexhausted wealth abound/Where through a hundred gates with marble arch/To battle twenty thousand chariots march.

Compared with Karnac, the Temple of Luxor is not of the greatest importance and until recently has been buried under piles of rubbish on which native houses stood. In 1883 the excavating was begun and finished about 1888. It is built of sandstone and is dedicated to the Theban triad of Amen-Ra, Mut, and Khonsu, and was called the House of Amen in the Northern Apt, i.e., Karnac. It was built about 1450 B.C. by Amenophis III, and was at that time the most beautiful temple in Egypt, nearly 500 feet long, 180 feet wide, and was connected with Karnac by a paved way on each side of which was a row of ram-headed sphinxes, about a mile in length. Mut was the wife of Amenophis III and Khunsu, the sun god, his son.

The temple has been added to by later kings and during the rule of the Persians over Egypt it was sacked and burnt. The damage was partly made good by the Ptolmeys, but in 27 B.C. it was greatly damaged by an earthquake. Then the Christians converted it into a church and disfigured walls and smashed statues. When these latter could afford to build a church of their own, they forsook the temple and natives built their mud huts in the courts. As these fell down, others were built over them till the temple was filled.

A fine obelisk 82 feet high stands before the pylon of the temple. Its mate now adorns the Place de la Concorde at Paris. The front of the temple was ornamented with six colossal statues of Ramses II, four standing and two seated. Three of the former have been destroyed. The pylon was 80 ft. high and 100 ft in width, with hollow towers. Flags were flown from here in festival times. The face is covered with scriptures and texts which refer to the dedication of the pylon to Amen-Ra and to the victory of Ramses I over his enemies.

The Court of Ramses II is an impressive place, 187 by 157, and surrounded by a double row of papyrus columns with lotus capitals, all inscribed. The colonnade leading to it from the pylon consists of 14 lots columns, massive and beautifully proportioned, 51 ft high and 11 ft thick. There are numerous other smaller courts, chapels, etc.

From the river it is a striking scene and to watch the sun set from its courts is an experience. It never rains here and the sky is always a pure turquoise blue with never a cloud. As the sun drops slowly down toward the rugged mountains across the river and the broad fertile plain, it tinges the surrounding sky a pale orange. The sun is a huge golden ball, and slips down behind the mountains leaving the blue-gray of dusk slowly encroaching upon the fading orange, as mauve night settles over the valley. No array of rainbow colors in this sunset, just a small patch of pale orange sky and that golden ball burning its way down toward the horizon. I could rave on for hours about it. The gently flowing river darkens, reflecting an uncertain image of a sailboat upon the smooth surface.

Karnac has probably been “holy ground” from the earliest times, and the kings have always lavished much wealth to increase its splendor. The temples of Luxor and Karnac were connected by an avenue about 6,500 feet long and 80 wide, on each side of which was arranged a row of sphinxes. At the end of this avenue to the right is a road which leads to the Temple of Mut, which was also approached by an avenue of sphinxes. Ruins of four temples stand here. From the main avenue again, a smaller one ornamented with ram-headed sphinxes leads to a splendid pylon built by Ptolemy IX, Eurgetes II. Passing through the door, a small avenue of sphinxes leads to a temple built by Ramses III, dedicated to Khonsu, and appears to be built upon the site of an earlier temple of the time of Amenophis III. To the west is still another small temple.

The great Temple of Amen fronted the Nile and was approached by means of a small avenue of sphinxes, ram-headed, placed there by Ramses II. Excavation work was begun in 1895 on Amen or Amûn by Legrain. This avenue has at the end a quai by which the river once flowed but is now 300 yards away. The first pylon is 370 feet wide, 142½ high, and 49 ft. thick! It was begun in the Ptolemaic Period and left unfinished. The Great Court is 338 by 275. At one side is the Temple of Ramses III. The second great pylon was built by Ramses I and is all carved and inscribed. This leads to one of the most wonderful buildings in the world, the Hall of Columns or the Great Hypostyle Hall. Twelve columns forming a double row in the center are 60 ft high and about 35 ft in circumference; 122 more are 40 ft high and 27 around. They are arranged in 16 rows. Ramses I set up one column, Seti I 79, and Ramses II the remaining 54. The third propylon is in ruins. Then comes an obelisk 75½ ft. high standing on a base 6 ft square. Inscriptions on the eastern side read “Horus, Mighty Bull, Beloved of Truth, the King of Upper and Lower Egypt, Favorite of the Two Mistresses, Resplendent in the Uraeus Serpent Diadem; Great in Strength Akherperkara-sotepenra. The Golden Horus, Beautiful of Years, making hearts to live, the Son of Ra of his body, Thutmost—Resplendent in Beauty! He made it as his monument for his father Amen, the Lord of Thebes and Guardian of Karnac, so that he might be given life unto Ra forever.”

Pylons 4, 5, and 6 are all in ruins now. Between 4 and 5 stood 14 large columns with statues, colossal in size, of Osiris, and two huge obelisks of Queen Hatshepsut, one of which still stands, 98 ft. high. The other was 105 ft high. The tops were covered with gold containing a large portion of silver so they could be seen from a great distance. It is the second-highest obelisk in the world, the one in Rome being first. It reads: “When they see my monument in after years, let them exclaim: ‘This it is that was made by me, and take heed lest ye say I know not, I know not. This was made under my order, this mountain fashioned of gold, by my life and by the love of Ra and by the favor of my father Amen, who has filled my nostrils with life and health, I bear the White Crown and am diamened with the Red Crown (crowns of Upper and Lower Egypt), two gods have united unto me their two spans (of life). I rule over this land like the sun of Isis; I am powerful even as the sun of Nu when the sun reposes in the Morning Boat and remains in the Evening Boat; when he places his mother and the Uraeus goddesses in the Sacred Barge, as long as the sky is fixed and firm which he hath created.

“It shall exist forever like unto the North Star. I shall rest in life Atum, therefore of a truth these are two huge obelisks brightened by my Majesty with gold for the sake of her father Amen, and out of love, in order to perpetuate his name that they might stand erect in the Temple precinct forever and ever.” They are one solid block of granite, without any joint or division in them. “My Majesty began this work in (her) fifteenth year (of reign), the first day of (the month) Mesori, which maketh but seven months since the beginning of it in the mountain” (i.e., Aswan quarries). Then there is a Record Hall, a Festal Hall, and a Great Festal Temple, all in more or less ruins. There are ten pylons in all and numberless temples, shrines, etc. The sacred lake stands nearby. It is called Birket El Mallaha by the natives, or The Salt Pool. On its surface the sacred boats of the gods used to float. Today the natives aver that once every year, at night time, a phantom ship of gold sails across the sacred waters. A sun-baked brick wall encloses all of these ruins and is itself pretty well shot.

The ancient Egyptians had no one chronological starting point from which to date events. They reckoned time from the accession day of their king. After his death, his successor’s accession day used to serve as a starting point, et cetera. Egyptian history is divided into 30 dynasties.

Thebes was called by the ancient Egyptians Apé or Apiu, the feminine Tapé or Tapiu. The Greeks called it Thebes, after their Thebai. The first Theban king was Antef who was succeeded by public-minded kings who made improvements in and around the little village. Egypt, under the last of the Herakleopolis, was seething with trouble. Some Theban nobles, by a night attack, tried to kill Amenemhat, who was forced to take up arms and thus fought his way to the throne of Egypt. He was kind and helped the poor. He is the founder of the XIIth dynasty under which art and literature flourished; pyramids and giant edifices were built.

During the 13th, 14th, 15th, and 16th dynasties (1788–1580 B.C.) Egypt’s prosperity declined. Some Syrian tribes, the Hyksos or Shepard  Kings, discovering its weakness and using a new formidable engine of war, the chariot, occupied the delta and maintained the kings of Thebes as vassals. Intoxicated by success, they smashed the idols and temples, but later identifying Set, the Egyptian God of Evil, with one of their chief deities, reconciled themselves with their subjects and treated them kindly. Despite this, the Egyptians rose up and drove the Hyksos out of Egypt. These former, in order to put an end to claims on the throne by rival families, introduced a novel system of marrying brothers and sisters, and in case of failure of royal issue by queen consort, the royal son of one of the ladies attendant on the deceased king, had to succeed and his authority strengthened by marrying one of the hereditary princesses.

Queen Hatsu or Kemare-Hatsheput, whose name means The First of the Court Ladies, had great personality. She reigned from 1540 to 1515 B.C. and built the beautiful pink temple of Deir el-Bahari in commemoration of an expedition to Punt. But a cruel king later reigned, Amenhotep or Amenophis II. He warred continually and extended the kingdom greatly. Amenophis III, also of the same dynasty, was a great builder and erected the Temple of Luxor, later added to by Ramses II; also the Colossi.

Amemophis IV was a consumptive king and reigned only a short time. But he conceived of the One God, an almighty, powerful god represented in the sun’s disk. He made this the religion of the state and devoted his time to spreading his religion, thus his possessions shrunk. He soon died as did the eldest daughter who succeeded him. Thus the throne fell to the second daughter, Ankh-sen-Aton, and her husband Tut-Ankh-Aton, about 1345 B.C.

Tut-Ankh-Aton means The Living Image of Aton or the sun. He moved the capital back to Thebes and discarded the worship of Aton for that of Amon as of old. He changed his name to Tut-Ankh-Amen or The Living Image of Amen. Under his rule the Egyptians were contented.

Horem-Heb founded the 18th dynasty, about 1350 to 1315 B.C. Sethos or Seti I was a big fighter and warred against the Libyans and the Syrians. Ramses I preceded him and Ramses II followed. This latter reigned 67 years, the greatest of all Egyptian kings. He built temples at Abu-Simbel, Karnac, Luxor, Ramesseum, Memphis, and others. He also warred extensively against the Hittites. His mummified body is in the Cairo museum.

Here, Egypt’s history becomes a series of wars. Ethiopians, Abyssinians, and Persians invaded Egypt for a while, and were expelled one by one. Alexander the Great took Egypt in 332 B.C. and founded Alexandria which because the center of Greek culture and world commerce. As a result of his death, Ptolemy I Soter I was crowned in 305 B.C. By 205 B.D. the Ptolemaic power began to totter and Thebes was ruled for 19 years by native pharaohs and was afterward deserted in 88 B.C. In 41 B.C. the fatal love story of Antony and Cleopatra. In 31 B.C., Octavianux marched against Antony and defeated him at Actium and took Alexandria. Antony committed suicide and Cleo allowed an asp to bite her. Thus Egypt became a Roman province.

Under Byzantium, Egypt fell to the Eastern Empire in 395 A.D. In 640 A.D. a Moslem army of Caliph Omar’s entered Egypt and took Alexandria, destroying the great library because [its contents] didn’t agree with the Koran. This the creme of the world’s learning was used as fuel for [their] 4,000 baths.

Quarrels between sultans, caliphs, kings, and emirs followed till Sultan Selim I of Turkey ruled her in 1517 and soon after the Battle of the Nile, in 1798, Napoleon Bonaparte occupied the country. In 1805, Mohammed Ali Pasha, a young soldier of fortune from Cavala, Macedonia, made an appearance here and put an end to all troubles of the corrupt Mameluke princes’ government. He was a great builder and made many improvements as did his grandson, Ismail Pasha, who built railroads and encouraged the Suez Canal construction. The present ruler, H.M. King Fuad I, is his son.

Three hours of wandering about through the cool courts in the shade of mammoth columns and pylons, and then I returned to my 10-piastre hotel, hot, tired from no sleep hardly for nearly 60 hours (4 hrs. sleep) and plenty dusty and dirty. From the verandah on the second floor I watched the marvelous sunset over the palms and behind the misty Egyptian Rockies. Then I fell asleep over a guide book of Egypt.

Tuesday, March 12, 1929

The Tombs of the Kings are open only on alternate days and until noon. Thus I arose before seven and was across the peaceful Nile before seven-twenty, by means of the native ferry boat. The morning was perfect, keen pure air, a blue sky, and the sun not yet hot. I started out on my long walk past a couple of small clusters of mud huts and a village surrounded by mud walls; over a dry canal, past a large field of sugar-cane and past many people going to town, walking or on a small donkey. Soon I could see the two colossi of Memnon through the two long rows of trees that shaded the road. 3,000 years ago Amenophis III had these huge statues made and set in front of his mortuary temple, which now exists no more. They represent him seated on his throne with his mother and wife on either side and an unrecognized small statue between his legs. Each was originally of one block of stone, difficult to work because of its hardness. The southern statue is 65 feet high. The missing legs measures 19½ feet from sole to knee, each foot 10 feet, shoulders 20 ft. broad each, arm from tip of finger to elbow 15½ ft. About 27 B.C. the northern one was broken in two by an earthquake. Since then it has been called the Colossus of Memnon because it emitted at sunrise a plaintive musical sound that recalled to the Romans and Greeks the tragic death of mythical Memnon, son of Eos or Aurora. Mythology tells us that Memnon, who fell at Troy, appeared at Thebes as a singing stone statue and at break of day used to greet his mother, Aurora, with his sweet, plaintive, musical song. The goddess, hearing his cry, shed her pearly tears, in the form of morning dew, on the cold stone of the statue that stood in the Theban plain. This phenomenon was lately explained by science. The dampness absorbed during night-time by the shattered, gigantic stone, emitted musical strains in its passage out through the crevices of the colossus at dawn. About A.D. 193–211, Septimus Severus crudely repaired it. When the cracks were filled, the giant became dumb.

Half mile farther on and to the right is the mortuary temple of Ramses II, the Ramsesseum, which he dedicated to Amon, the president of the gods. Much of this noble temple is in ruins. Many tall columns still rear their lotus-capitaled shafts toward the heavens. In the ruined first court lies the colossal statue of Ramses the Great. It originally weighed about 1,000 tons, but today it is broken and all scattered about. The head and shoulders remain intact, though. It was about 57½ ft. high. The dimensions are almost unbelievable: ear 3½ ft., breast from shoulder to shoulder 22½ ft., index fingers 3¼ ft., nail of middle finger 7½”; circumference of arm at elbow 17½ ft. The larger pylon depicts battle scenes, but much is in ruins. Other parts are in various stages of decay. However, there is still much to be seen of scriptures, etc., some even retaining the colors.

I did not remain here long, but hurried on toward the Valley of the Kings. I went out of the way some to visit a hill of shaley rock, honeycombed with tombs dug far back under the hill and many far down into the hill. Not much of anything in most of them. The walls were hewn roughly from the living rock, the roof supported by pillars of stone left uncut. In some were mummy wrappings and bones scattered about. A few were inscribed with pictures.

From this hill I had an excellent view of the famous Temple of Queen Hatshepsut al Der al Bahari. It is built in terraces on a wide open space, bounded at its further [end] by the semi-circular wall of cliffs which divides this space from the Valley of the Tombs of the Kings; it is approached from the plain through a shallow gorge, both sides of which are honeycombed  with tombs. The Great Queen called it Tcheser Tcheseru, i.e., Holy of Holies. The site was not cleared till 1858 and was found to be a funerary temple like the Ramsesseum and the great temple at Midinat Habu. It was approached by an avenue of sphinxes, 42 ft. wide and 437 yards long. This avenue has disappeared as has all but the foundations of a wall enclosing the temple. The two terraces are reached by means of an incised approach. The two terraces are supported by low pillars inscribed, as are the walls in back of them. A roof protects these bas reliefs which depict religious scenes and the rejoicings which took place at Thebes on the return of the successful expedition to Punt. Her name has been scratched off by Thothmes III, her ward, who hated her. Amenophis IV tried to erase Amen’s name to replace his own god’s there, and Ramses II in repairing the damage added his own wherever possible. The building is 800 ft. long. Hatsheput is always represented in male attire and even a beard is attributed to her. Only when she is represented as a goddess is she in feminine role.

Just south of Deir al-Bahari and but a few feet from it is the Temple of Menthu-Hetep Neb-hap-Ra. This is the oldest of the temples at Thebes, dating from 2500 B.C. It too is backed by this large serrated cliff. A platform was cut out of the living rock which was approached by stairs or a ramp. Then a pyramid was built on this. A colonnade, a wall, and another colonnade were built around this. But the base of the pyramid and of the pillars [are all that] now remain.

Planning to return and see more another day, I hurried on up a steep rough path, up the side of the cliff, along the top and to the other side. There far below lay the barren Valley of the Kings, completely hemmed in by tall cliffs and high, rocky, shaley mountains. A winding road leads into this bowl depression through a narrow gorge.  The sun was well overhead by now and burned down furiously. The barren rocky valley seemed to catch the heat and hold it. Not a breath of air was stirring. I dodged into the first tomb I came to for relief from the heat. It happened to be that of Seti I, the most interesting and important of all the royal tombs. It was discovered in 1817. The tomb is entered by means of two flights of steps down, and a passage terminating in a well. Beyond this are two chambers having 4 and 2 pillars respectively , and to the left are small chambers and halls which lead to the large six-pillared hall and vaulted chamber in which stood the sarcophagus of Seti I. Another inclined plane descends into the mountain, making the total length nearly 500 ft. and the depth 150 ft.

The mummy was found at Dêr al-Baharî in 1904 (?) when it was hidden by the priests in some time of disturbance. The beautiful sarcophagus is in London. Paintings and inscriptions cover the walls and roof, of mythological and religious scenes, which refer to the passage of the sun, and of the king also, through the Underworld. On the sloping sections of the walls is a copy of the “Book of the Praisings of Ra” and on those of the chambers, 11 of the 12 sections of the “Book of That Which is in the Underworld.” For some extraordinary reason the 12th is omitted. The tomb was evidently not finished at the time of the king’s death for some of the figures of gods, etc. are only traced in outline and the scribe was stopped so suddenly in his work that he even left the section he was doing unfinished.

The excellence and beauty of the sculptures and paintings are striking. Colors still retain their luster after nearly 3,700 years. And what is more amazing—so many of the figures are raised, not only here but also in other tombs and temples. Here the whole series refers to the life of the king in the Underworld. When you stand in one of these dim subterranean chambers, it gives you a feeling of awe and curiosity.

All the tombs were built on the same general plans, the main differences being due to the length of time taken in building them, the power and wealth of the king, and structural difficulties. This valley, generally known as the Eastern Valley, contains tombs of the kings of the 18th, 19th, and 20th dynasties. They were all made between 1700 B.C. and 1050 B.C. during the most flourishing period of Egyptian history.

One of the commonest religious views of the Egyptians was that the Tuat, or Underworld, a long, narrow valley which ran parallel with Egypt, and was neither above nor below the level of this Earth. It had a river flowing through the whole length of it. This valley began on the west bank of the Nile, ran due north, bent around toward the east when the Delta was approached, and terminated at the place where the sun rose. It was divided into 10 sections; at each end was a sort of vestibule or chamber. The ante-chamber at its beginning was called Amentet and was a place of gloom; as the passenger through this valley went onwards, each of the first five sections grew darker and darker until at the end of the fifth section the darkness was absolute. As the passenger moved on through the last five sections, the darkness grew less and less dense, until at the end of the tenth section he entered the chamber, the gloom of which resembled the chamber at the beginning of the valley.

The whole night, which was supposed to consist of twelve hours, was needed to pass through the Tuat and the two chambers and ten main divisions of it were traversed each in one hour. The Tuat was a difficult place to pass through, for portions of it were filled with hideous monsters and horrible reptiles and a lake of boiling and stinking water. Religious tradition declared that the sun god Ra had made his way in it seated in his boat, but that he was only enabled to do so by employing his words of magical power, and by the exercise of the functions of deity. The priests declared that they possessed the knowledge of such words of power, and people believed that if they learned them, and learned to recognize the various divisions of the Tuat and the beings in them by means of the pictures which the priests provided, they could make the journey through the Tuat in safety, and would rise in the next world with the Sun.

This belief presided over the building of the royal tombs of the 18th dynasty, and the priests who superintended the work made them of long, narrow corridors like the Tuat. When the body was deposited in the tomb, the priests repeated the words of power which Ra was believed to have uttered, and performed ceremonies in imitation of those of the acts of the god so their king would surely be able to pass through Tuat and would rise with the sun to a new life in the next world. The sun-god traversed this valley each night in his boat and, of course, rose each day; the aim, then, of every one of his worshipers was to secure a passage in his boat, for if only this could be obtained, resurrection was certain. The doctrine was that all who died during the day made their way to Amentet where, provided they were equipped with the knowledge of the necessary “divine words,” they entered the boat of the sun-god. When they arrived at the kingdom of Osiris at midnight, they were judged and the blessed were rewarded, and the wicked annihilated; this done, the boat of the sun-god passed on toward the east where, having destroyed all the nature powers of night and darkness, i.e., cloud, mist, rain, etc., he rose on this world in glorious strength, and the souls who had chosen to stay with him rejoiced in renewed light and were happy.

The inscriptions on these tombs were written to effect this object and may be grouped into three divisions:

I. The Book of the Praisings, or Litanies of Ra, which contains 75 short paragraphs; each paragraph supplies one of Ra’s names and a certain attribute.

II. The Book of the Gates, i.e., the 12 gates or pylons of the 12 divisions of Tuat. This book gave the names of the gates and their guardians, and described the various beings that were to be found in each section, and the texts repeated the addresses made to Ra, and the answers which Ra made to them. One portion of this book is exceedingly old and the sympathetic magic described in it must date from pre-dynastic times.

III. The Book of that which is in the Underworld which treats of the 12 divisions of the Underworld and contains texts, the knowledge of which was of vital importance to the deceased. It describes at some length the kingdom of the god Seker, and the monster serpents that guard it, and reveals the belief in the existence of a place of doom where the darkness was impenetrable and the depth unfathomable.

The tombs of Ramses I and Ramses III, Thothmes III, and others that I visited are in the main similar to that of Seti I, though usually much smaller and not so elaborate. Tut-Ankh-Amen’s tomb is not very large, and the burial chamber is hardly 30 feet from ground level. Steps lead down to an incline at the bottom of which is a small room or vestibule; in an adjoining room of lower level is the beautifully carved sarcophagus and in it, covered by a glass, the outer gold mummy case. The rock staircase to the ante-room is but 27 feet long. To the left is a small low opening leading to an annex which was full of furniture and precious objects, now in Cairo. The Sepulchral Hall is 25 by 12. In it is the pink sarcophagus and a dismantled shrine wrapped in cotton and muslin leans against the walls hiding the inscriptions and paintings there. When the mummy case was opened in 1925, three years after the discovery of the tomb, the mummy was found to be in a very bad state of preservation and scientists revealed that Tut faded out at sweet 18. His mummy was covered with precious ornaments of gold and precious stones and his head and shoulders were encased in a solid gold mask.

When I had finished seeing the tombs (because they closed them), I found a cool spot under a cliff and stowed away a lunch of sardines, bread, and a hard-boiled egg. The climb over the ridge was plenty hot. It was one, and the temperature in the valley was certainly no less than 95°. Had a nice long rest at the top of the ridge and discarded my sweater and shirt because of the heat. I then became real ambitious and climbed to the summit of the range of mountains bordering the fertile valley. This took 40 minutes due to the excessive heat— consequently many rests. The view was worth the climb. From this point of vantage, 1,600 feet above the plain, the whole Nile valley spread itself before my feet, meandering to the north and south like some huge tortured serpent. On either side a narrow strip of green fields clung desperately to the life-giving river. The desert to the southeast crouched down near the river. Below, to the north, lay the tombs of the kings and to the southeast a small valley containing the tombs of the queens. A high, eroded ridge of mountains shuts out the Liberian Desert. To the east, far down on the flat plain, ruins of the Ramsesseum and nearby Madinet-Habu, defy time and heat. At the edge of the desert, the two colossi stand guard. Such a scene is hard to get to and harder to leave. But after an hour, I again pressed the groaning dogs into service for the descent. Such a view is not to be forgotten, and I celebrated by slipping on some loose rocks in a narrow steep gorge, and sliding down on my back and bare shoulders, carrying plenty of real estate on top of me.

Near Derxal Bahari I visited several tombs, one containing a pile of over a half dozen mummies in various stages of decomposition. In another I came across a small mummy chamber (?) full of fragments of inscribed stones. These (4) I wrapped in my sweater and put that in my helmet. Then, annexing the guide book and camera, I set out across the hot, dusty, stony road  to Madinet-Habu. Having no free hand, the flies took unfair advantage of the situation and flew in a swarm about my head, trying to get in my ears, eyes, nose, and mouth. I expanded the English language, but they didn’t take the hint. Thus, when I got to the shade of a huge pylon where I could rest my aching arms and swing on the flies, I felt worse than a wreck.

Madinet-Habu is a collection of several temples and similar to the Ramesseum in a way. There are some beautiful colonnades and numerous inscriptions of such vicious scenes as Ramses III hunting enemies with a club and smiting them; or of Ramses III torturing his prisoners by cutting off their hands, etc. I met a couple of Egyptian scouts there with a Mr. Harna Fam, who is the secretary of the Y at Asimt and who had two degrees from Chicago U. My speech refused to function till I had tipped the gate-keeper for a glass and a half of precious H2O. I determined to use patience and tolerance with all flies on the long tramp to Luxor, instead of adjectives and nouns. Seeing they could learn no more, they desisted and I arrived, or rather dragged in with me a ton of rocks, just in time to see another marvelous sunset over the Thebean Hills.

Wednesday, March 13, 1929

Tilly [Hall’s wristwatch] decided to take another extended vacation today, so I am once more running sun-time, which is easy to do in a place like Luxor where they never have rain. Also, Nero, the blamed fountain pen, has refused to scratch longer, even after a good cleaning. The reason can be seen if one lamps the ink in the drawing on the opposite page. It flows like mud.

After getting a note off to the gang, I started out for Karnac again, but “like a woman” (?) suddenly changed my mind at the last minute and crossed the river. It was ten when I landed after a nice sail over the deep for ½ piastre. The main reason it wasn’t 9:30 was because I had to get an elegant shave to look respectable and set off my long hair, which I can soon braid, to better advantage. Pushing (the dogs) on past the Colossi, Ramseseum and Madinet-Habu, I entered in fifty minutes the small valley where are the tombs of the Queens. Unlike most of the kings’ tombs, these are not sporting electric lights. The candles are not as good, but at least give you an idea of what is to be seen. None are as large nor as elaborate as many of the kings’ tombs. Still, the inscriptions and paintings were excellent. It was beastly hot and I was glad to sit in the cool shade of one and read for about an hour.

A little after noon I sallied forth through valleys and over hills to a spot somewhere where the French are excavating along the side of a hill. Already they have unearthed a whole hillside of tombs as far back as the foot of the towering cliff. Going on to somewhere, I saw what I could of it through the locked gates—a temple, some stumps of pillars, and a few broken stones and statues lying miscellaneously about an enclosure of dried mud bricks. Climbing a hill, I went into a tomb in front of which was a scattered pile of fragments of mummies and wrappings and bones. Soon a boy came along and tagged me for a long time. I knew what he was after, so didn’t pay much attention to him, and it just happened that the way I was going wasn’t where he was always trying to get me to go. I crossed a big field of sharp stones and he walked beside me barefooted, just as fast as I cared to go. These natives must have skin like leather on their feet. I was beginning to doubt whether I had any skin left on mine and had no doubts about the fact that the soles on both my shoes were half off. I climbed a stone fence and then he wanted his money, I suppose for tagging along and bothering me. Anyway, he got it like all the rest do that pull these tricks on me.

I was now on the same hill I had been on the preceding day. It is actually lousy with tombs, and I visited many, though they are nearly all the same and roughly hewn, without inscriptions. Descending to the plain level, I thought I would melt before I got to the shade of the temple of Menthu-hetup III. I spent some time here at that wild Hatasu’s pink temple Deir el-Bahari. Finally an overgrown bee became too friendly, so I left. Tourists were pretty scarce. Most usually come in the morning or later on in the afternoon, spending the hot hours sipping cool drinks of water (?) in the shade of the Winter Palace’s nice verandah overlooking the Nile. I seem to be the only person in Luxor who has a financial status so flat that even walking is a luxury because of the wear and tear on shoe leather. At least I am the only one that will admit the fact.

The Ramseseum had a caller about three-thirty, and he cooled off in the shade of a large pillar of the Hypostyle Hall, fooled about the courts and pylon for a while, then hit for home over a dusty path through a field, with every other little rascal in Egypt tagging along behind holding a bleating kid in their arms, and crying baksheesh, baksheesh. The more educated cried photographic baksheesh.

When I came to the river, the cool H2O was too much to resist, so I went up the broad sandy beach (in this spot) a ways and divested to my “swimming suit,” then had a grand half-hour swim. I am certain the Nile is much shallower now than before. Three days accumulation of dirt in Luxor is like carrying a brick in each pocket. When I was dry, I took the ferry across and waited in the Luxor Temple to see that elegant sun drop behind misty gray hills. I am assured that the sky is not always a pale orange, but is often a wonderful rainbow of colors. I was greeted by a lizard in my room. He was shy, though, and ran up the wall and in some crevice on the ceiling.

Thursday, March 14, 1929

I put the whole day and part of the evening to good use writing and reading about Egypt. The kids going along the street I would find gazing in through the window at me. Had a letter from Mort. At sunset I climbed a chair on the roof and took a couple of pictures of the incomparable. Don’t wish anybody bad luck, but I crave to see the Luxor Fire Dept. trot out those skinny golden helmets that stand in a neat row by a red engine.

And now to expound on Memphis, Sakkarah, and the Pyramids, while I have the information handy. [Ed. note: I can’t do this—it’s pages and pages straight out of the guidebook and is sooooo dull and with the many hieroglyphs that Hall copied, impossible to type.]

Friday, March 15, 1929

Went out for a last look at Karnac this morning and spent about three hours there. In spite of this, I hardly retraced any of the spots I had visited five days before. Practically all of the ground within those big 15- or 20-foot-thick walls of dried bricks is a mass of ruins. There is much broken pottery there about the ground and plenty of half-excavated walls and foundations.

The sacred lake is very interesting. Today it must be much shrunken from its former size and glory. Nearby a giant stone scarabaeus (?) or scarab reposes on a stone pedestal. It was fun to climb up in the pylons and from the lofty tops get fine panoramic views of Karnac, or pry about ruined  courts and shrines. Whole colonnades of huge pillars with niches in between from which 20-foot statues of ancient kings gazed over the piles; small dim rooms, the walls and ceilings of which were a mass of scriptures and drawings. The surprising part is that so many are raised from the surface instead of just being carved into the rock. This is especially true of those scriptures in the tombs.

I was especially amused at the many tourists being led around by guides, over the beaten track of tourists, hurrying on, never going out of the way to examine out-of-the-way places, etc. Of course this is not true of all, by any means. Some very conscientiously, like myself, poked about queer places, armed with a guide book and a kodak. The grand costumes they wear are ludicrous. You might easily picture them at a social function of some American country club. The heat and dirt soon make a mess of these clothes. I have seen but three women who were attired in khaki britches or trousers. The afternoon I spent on the roof reading and writing.

Saturday, March 16 and Sunday, March 17, 1929

Friday I had seen a Coptic funeral in Luxor. Both sides of the street were lined with mourning men, squatting down on the sidewalks. In a narrow street nearly scores of men paraded back and forth, rather up one side of the street and down the other, singing and chanting a short sentence in Arabic. From the noise resulting, one might have said it was a riot.

The proprietor of the Thebes Hotel is a German. Running the hotel is but a nuisance for him for his hobby and passion lies in the collecting of Egyptian antiques [antiquities]. Consequently, the hotel is in a somewhat rundown condition. Frank and Mort had stayed there and so I did the same—for 10 piastres a day. W. Dreiss, the proprietor, was a very nice gentleman in his lucid moments. These came from times when his mind was diverted from antiques. For some reason or other he took a shine to me and said I was his guest there, giving me meals, and in the evening wine, while we sat and talked. He lent me guidebooks and gave me a very nice one on Luxor.

But there is a hitch. He had recently acquired a fine statue of Tut-Ankh-Amen which he worships. His living alone has gone to his head in the form of an insanity for old relics. Every day, behind the locked doors of his office, he spends hours talking to his statues as one would to a small child. If he is disturbed by one of his servants, he often nearly flies into a rage. One evening he told me he could kill them when they bother him. In fact, I was the only one allowed to disturb him or to be in his “inner haunts” while his statues were out. The truth of the matter is that several men who evidently work in excavating sell him pieces that are either stolen or smuggled out. I cornered him one night and learned this. However, he keeps it all dark that he collects and nobody knows it in Luxor. Thus all the secrecy. It would make a dandy setting for a mystery story for he has these relics hidden all over the hotel and at almost any time of night you might hear him behind locked doors playing with them, fondling them, and talking to them.

Strange Arabs come and go, always carrying on their business behind locked doors. He has many beautiful pieces, some from Tut’s tomb. Once started on Tut, he completely goes out of his head. Not only does he worship him, but he believes he is still alive, and the statue has come to him because both he and Tut have been stolen from and mistreated. Talking to it is nothing. Every morning certain statues have to be arranged on a small table in his room, all in a certain order, Tut between two fine alabaster statues, one a sphinx, the other a bird. In front and facing them is a dancing girl. These are daily placed in the sun. At night after kissing Tut, he puts him to bed and then sleeps with him, just as a small child would do with a doll. He imagines that Tut moves his eyes and talks back to him.

Every evening he would show me more statues, etc. and while I admired them, would sit back with an imbecilic grin upon his face. The third evening he became so excited over his relics that he leaned over and kissed me. I nearly passed out with surprise. Now I know exactly how a girl feels who is dating with a young man who insists upon necking her. Thereafter I became very tactiful [full of tactics, perhaps]  and was very careful that Tut was kept out of the conversation unless [we were] out in the open where he could not give vent to his enthusiasm and affection. The last evening I was there he called me into his office to see new stuff he had got and give me a carved slab from the grave of some old-timer. Then he gave me a broken scarab which is without doubt the very personification of luck. If this scarab were whole, it would be worth plenty for it is a dandy. He has had it about twenty years. Thus, when I finally turned in after a walk about the park with him for some fresh air, it was nearly one. I am “the lucky prince” and “King Tut likes me.”

Tut caused me to get only four hours sleep that night, for at five I was up to catch the six-ten train. Breakfast was waiting for me and I almost swelled a gut from feeling ritzy. On the way to the station I saw some cops that had returned to second childhood and had tied two dogs together by their tails.

Again the train was crowded and I was fortunate in finding a seat on a sack of peas. Some of these I ate with a man who exercised his dozen words of English quite willingly. Being raw, I did not think them as delicious as the man claimed them to be. Soon a conductor came through the car and raised cain with the natives, making them shift baggage about till I had a nice seat. The other people, natives, he left lying in the aisle or on baggage piled there.

As we rode down through the valley, one could see the natives at their work in the fields and towns, and along the irrigation canals. Natives, naked except for a small loin cloth, hoisted water from one level up to the level of small ditches and trenches through their fields. In the fields camels were being loaded with fodder and hay. Perhaps an honest-to-goodness scarecrow put in an appearance at long intervals.

Many farmers live in small huts made entirely of reeds and shocks, with a small enclosure of the same material in which the family cow or chickens are kept. The stations were always crowded. On the platforms of most were piles and piles of sacks of onions. Nearby a man might be seen molding bricks by hand out of a pile of mud or clay and setting them in the sun to dry and harden. On the train much politeness was shown between the Moslems, after the first rush of getting settled was over. Their greeting is interesting.  After their handshake, they place their right hand to their heart, then to their mouth with the idea of “my heart goes out to you.” Sometimes they just kiss their hand that you have shaken.

In due time we arrived at Assint, a good-sized town on the Nile’s bank. A mile back from the city is the same range of rocky hills that in Luxor are called the Theban Hills.  For centuries and centuries these hills by Assint have been used as a burial place for the dead. The steep slopes are honeycombed with small holes dug into the rock in which the mummified body of the person was placed. Many tombs consisted of one or more small chambers hewn of the rock. A few were very large, having the appearance of a cave, and I saw less than half a dozen with inscriptions. At some early date all of these tombs have been robbed and the mummies scattered about. Large vultures circle low over the hills as if in search of mummified meat. Bleached bones and parts of bodies are everywhere on the ground, and crunch under your foot. Great piles and hills of bones bleach under a hot sun. I have seen plenty of mummies and in all states of decomposition, etc., but it has never affected me as this morbid scene did. Cold chills were continually running up and down my back. While walking among the hills I saw a fox walking up through a stony ravine sporting a fine bushy tail. Just around the corner of the hill is what appears to be a large city of small houses, walled in, and domes. It stretches far out over the sand along the border of the fertile tract. This is a Moslem graveyard. When the warm sun began to drop down toward a rim of sand, I wended my way back to Assint, this time through the native bazaar where tin-makers and other craftsmen worked at their trades while languid curious persons puffed lazily at water pipes. My luggage was parked at the Grand Hotel, where I returned to write a letter. The establishment more nearly resembles a gambling joint where the male population of the city play furiously at dominoes.

A meal of rice, potatoes, and pickled onions helped to pass the hours until the 10:15 train left for Cairo. My usual good luck prevailed, or perhaps it was because I was a “lucky prince,” for though the car was jammed full, I got a seat almost immediately. Packed in as a sardine, there was little or no hope of sleep, so I sat up all night and read a guide book—on Egypt.

I came out of a doze to find the train slowing down for Gizah. Grabbing up the heavy knapsack, I climbed over the people parked in the aisle and [went] out the door. It was just six. I left my baggage at the station and soon caught a bus along the road to Badrashein, arriving there some twenty minutes after. And what a wild ride. The driver strained the lizzy-bus to its utmost and thought nothing of bumps. Between the hard seat and two chicken crates that insisted in sliding all over me, I had a great time, mostly spent between the seat and the roof. The sun rose over the squatty cliffs across the Nile just as it had set in Luxor.

Memphis brought out nothing new except a giant status of Ramses II, 42 feet long and laying in a mud hut, which I missed on the first trip. When I got to Sakkarah on the edge of the desert, a guide attached himself to the party and refused to leave. Finally I decided to let him have a lesson, so when he demanded piastres near the Step Pyramid, I told him what I thought of him and guides in general. Still he insisted, so I stuffed the camera in my jacket and got down to business. He looked surprised and started to hit me with his staff, but changed his mind and probably cussed and cursed me up and down as I left him standing along on the sandy desert. We must have been a ludicrous sight, arguing and gesticulating way out there in a deserted desert. I seem to have acquired the habit of helping my vocal efforts with my hands.

Mort had especially wanted me to see the Tomb of the Thi and those of the Apis Bulls, etc. where the sacred bulls were mummified and buried in huge caves or tombs dug out from the bedrock under the sand. When I got to the Step Pyramid and saw all of these excavations of old temples, the idea of returning to Gizah in time to catch the ten o’clock train for Cairo vanished. Instead, the desire just to nose about dominated and I did it so well that I found a head, from an old statue, of blue glazed stone. It is small and well worn, but if the excavations about the Step Pyramid are anything near the age of the Step Pyramid, then my relic must be nearly 6,000 years old.

A group of pyramids and tombs to the south I felt sure was the place I wished to visit, so off I trekked across the sand hills after inspecting a smaller pyramid near the Step Pyramid. The way led past the ruins of a couple pyramids through a dry oasis and to extensive excavations near another old pyramid, and nearby a huge crude edifice that resembled the base of a pyramid chopped off at forty feet from the ground and built of mammoth blocks, much worn by sand and time. On one side—the north—a small door, barred and locked, led down a step incline to the depths of the earth and darkness. This shaft was slightly over three feet square.

I could not locate the man who had the key. A rest from walking across the stony sand felt good, and while I was thus occupied a man-servant came from a large hut two hundred yards distant, and invited me to follow him there as a man wished to see me. A small clean-cut man greeted me in English at the door and invited me to tea.

Ahmad Yousef proved a very entertaining host. He is an artist, poet, author of ten books on art and including one on marriage, and at the time is working for the government in the excavations, restoring ruins of temples, etc. To quote him: “I am the most wonderful artist in Egypt. But since my brother has returned from England where he studied portraits, he is the best portrait painter in Egypt. I have not done that sort of work since 1924 and now it is too hard for my eyes.” Walls covered with paintings and sketches proved that he had ability. And all of this at the age of 25, after 7 years of teaching himself to paint without the aid of school. He showed me many of his works and articles and covers of magazines which he had done. Lunch followed, served by a man who acted as servant. Then we examined his kodak pictures, etc. which are extremely well done. He gave me many showing the life of Egypt and said he would send me more in the future. [Ah, that’s why Hall’s photos suddenly improved in Port Said.] Finally he sketched me, but didn’t like it. I left at four with two hours and a quarter to get a train to Cairo. He sent two boys with me to show me the shortest way. These had a great time clearing the path of natives for me and chasing the kids away who followed begging for baksheesh. I felt like a king on parade. Tombs that I had planned to visit were left unvisited for I had gone the wrong way from the Step Pyramid.

In Badrashein again at 5:20, I got a bus to Gizah. These always ramble along at fine speed, but as luck would have it, this driver fooled around so long that I didn’t reach Gizah till six, so it was too late to make the 6:15. This went against the grain for I had my mind set on being in Port Said that night and this Missouri-mule stubbornness is hard to down once it has a hold. Now time was no object, so I walked the four or five miles back to town. Before I had gone far, my feet began to protest, and by the time the Regent Hotel loomed before me, I was dragging. While crossing the main drag, a man about four feet from me was run down by an auto. Fortunately, instead of running on up over him and over his head, the wheel pushed him along the street before it some six feet, only banging him up generally.

Monday, March 18, 1929

A sleepy hotel clerk failed to call me on time and so I missed the 7AM train by three minutes. An old custom. Yet each time I missed a train, I saw something unusual. This time it was the Lord High Commissioner of Egypt boarding his private train. A guard was thrown around the door of the station to make sure that nobody got near him. The grand central portal was opened for this special occasion. A big red rug covered the floor and another long one was laid along the platform beside his train of four cars, which was to carry beside himself, Lord Late (?), a party of a half dozen, and a squad of English tommies, smartly lined up waiting his highness’s tardy appearance. The people were cleared from the station and I had a deuce of a time to even cross the place. Such false pride and ado about one English official. It was all ridiculous, to say the least, and I am glad to say the main character of this foolishness did not look the part as he quickly passed along the platform and laughingly joked with a friend from the window of his saloon car.

I took no chances on missing the next train, so sat in the station to await its departure. My complaining feet readily agreed to this. Thus, three o’clock found me in Port Said, dirty after the ride through the desert, but with hopes of getting cleaned up. The same evening we decided to buy a developing set to do our own films with. I attacked my 13 rolls of film and with Frank’s help, made 8 rolls of negatives by 3AM.

Tuesday, March 19, 1929

Spent a busy day writing and chasing around town. The evening found Frank and me on negatives again. We had done it all wrong the evening before and had to go over all again. Three rolled around before we climbed in bed again.

Wednesday, March 20 and Thursday, March 21, 1929

Busy doing a little of everything from washing and sewing pockets in pants to catching up on my diary and working over films. Thursday afternoon I visited the British Coaling Company to find out about our boat. It was due on the 29th, had no passenger accommodations, and I could get no better satisfaction from the agents than that the captain had the last word in the matter. In view of the fact that the weather has been terrible on the Atlantic and Mediterranean, and if he refused we would be stuck in Egypt two more weeks, we finally decided to take a Triestimo boat at four-thirty. One had just left and one was in port the next day. It was a troop ship, though, and passengers were not allowed on deck. Jackie got us passage, though, after a long hard argument with the agent. However we were required to take meals aboard. This set us back $49 apiece. When all was arranged, it was nearly eight o’clock. We rushed about packing and doing a million odds and ends necessary before departure. Jackie was all aflutter and came around in the evening for some tea. I had to pack up a box and send it home, then have Jackie send another one for me that I had no time to pack. When I finally did gather the loose ends, it was 1 AM, so I decided to stay up all night and work on the films so they wouldn’t pile up on me.

Friday (Wednesday), March 20, 1929 (?????)! March 22, 1929

Didn’t get so many films developed last night, but did learn a little about developing. At 5:30 AM the porter came to wake up the boys, whose room was next to mine. Of course my room was dark, but the door was ajar. Old Nosy poked his head in. I had just turned off the light so he knew I was in. On goes the light and I guess he thought that I was completely “off” when I jumped toward him like I was mad to get the light off. He beat a retreat and even refused to return when I invited him in.

About seven-thirty things were all stuffed in bulging packs and suitcases and off we went down the middle of the main drag, loaded to capacity with an imposing array of baggage. The hotel porter almost knocked us down trying to carry our stuff for us, but we refused. He and the rest, all except one whom we tipped, hinted around for tips and all but asked us, but as they did no more than say hello and rise when we passed them daily, they didn’t rate here.

Customs didn’t bother to open our packs, but quarantine bothered us to the extent of 6 piastres per. Jackie had a boat for us to go to the ship in and soon we were on the way. As we were getting our things up the gangplank, Mort dropped his case into the water where it immediately started for Davy Jones’ locker, thus Mort lost his personality, pride, and dignity. We paraded over the boat till it left shortly before noon. For some unknown reason, Jackie failed to appear as he said he would. As we slipped past the city and shipping in the harbor, Mort missed no chance to yell baksheesh to any natives whose boats happened to come within hearing distance. I had seen so many boats leave for India, etc. that now when I was really on one bound for there myself, it hardly seemed real. Yet there must be some truth to it, for soon Port Said was far in the distance. It was necessary to anchor along the side of the canal to let several ships pass, so it was dark when the Romolo slipped into the small lake near Ismailia.

Our handout from the cook was very good. At nine, Morton strayed off, returning with a huge dipper heaped with ice cream. Frank and I made tracks for the cuisina and were rewarded by a whole pawful. I wasn’t any too warm, but ice cream is too much of a luxury to be missed. The engines celebrated this occasion by breaking down, stranding us in the lake. Mort and Frank got deck chairs from some sailor who happened to have a couple. I chose the hatch in the after-part. That it was cold didn’t help matters much. Frank wrapped up in a couple of sweaters, a scarf, trench coat, and a knot. Mort was more optimistic, but not so much that he left a coat or two and a towel unused.

I awoke cold and feeling as though my bones were being stepped on. The engine room had some semblance of heat and there I went. Mort claims he came wandering along about that time, hoping to find lots of heat somewhere, and saw me dozing away over a little rail and by a steep stair or ladder leading down to the engine room 30 feet below. He thought I might find a quick way to the bottom, so hauled me out for a walk around the ship. There was a moon, not far from full, that lit up the desert on each side like day, and silvery ripples danced across the path of the moon in the waters, giving the appearance of a sea of phosphorus. Two ships slipped by, black hulks, blotting out a scene of indescribable charm and beauty. Bright lights in long rows riddled the dark abyss as a sieve. We both returned to sleep. The hatch felt like a downy bed the second time.

A long time later I again awoke cold, and realized there was no fat in parts where fat would come in handy in such a case. A bright light drew me to a small stand nearby resembling a pop stand at a circus. It and a row of others had been rigged up for use as a kitchen for the soldiers. It must have been after three. The stand in question proved to be nothing less than a bakery, and in full swing. I walked in and made myself at home on a bench. The baker presented me with two small loaves of bread and some cheese. Others dropped in and became interested in me, pumping me with questions in Italian which I answered in English, all the time half-asleep. I finally gave it up and repaired to the engine room, then back to the hatch where I came to after six, an object of curiosity to a group of soldiers about.

Saturday Thursday, March 23 12, 1929 Saturday, March 23, 1929

Thirteen hours sleep in four nights. But a cup of coffee and a bun knocked all sleepiness out of me and later a plate of liver put lots of ambition in me. I got all washed up in the fresh-water spicket [Shame on me—I thought that this was misspelled, but it turns out to be an archaic spelling for spigot.] without being caught and then settled down to do things and get lots accomplished—but I had not counted on our friends, the soldiers—more correctly sailors or marines—bound for Shanghai for two years. The boat was fixed and got under weigh at 10 AM.

These sailors occupy the poop of the ship. There must be a couple hundred of them. They are exactly as small children, very curious and inquisitive. There is always a crowd about us watching every little thing we do. They are very nice, but pests for we can get nothing accomplished. They talk to us in Italian and we have to figure it out and say our dozen Italian words helped out with gestures. When we write, they crowd about. Mort was trying to get his stories out on the typewriter. This was a great attraction to all and they crowded around. Several got paper and stood around waiting to write a letter on it. Mort finally moved away, but a crowd followed. The nice part of it all is that none speak English and we can say what we please in front of them.  Mort called back for help, so we got out the victrola and put on an Italian piece, <i>El Tango della Capinere</i>. They no sooner heard this than they all trooped back to us like so many school-boys. But the Arab remained there, so the next piece was an Arabic one the boys got in Cairo. To hint and help things, Mort did a couple of shimmies and waved his arms about. This was sufficient stimulus to send him back to us to tell us to play it again. Now Mort was clear, but Frank and I could do nothing but play that tango time after time for over an hour. In the end, Mort had to give up the typewriter to them.

The weather was perfect, nice and hot in the sun, yet a breeze stirring. On either side of the canal the desert stretched back to a low chain of sand hills and cliffs. This arid scene was made beautiful by the variety of colors.

More spaghetti for lunch—and only as Italians can make it. This filled us up so that we could not even touch the meat and spinach that followed. We have some good friends in both the regular kitchen and the sailors’ kitchen, so there is no lack of food. In fact, one brought some rolls out to us during the afternoon and another gives us a lot of wine for dinner each evening—when the chief chef is not about. For dinner in the evening soup, fish, cabbage, roast beef, and then we give up.

My long-suffering britches ripped out at the knee when I tried to make the hatch in one jump. I just decided to make shorts of them, but the baker decided to sew them up. He got a needle and thread and insisted upon doing it himself. It was all too good to miss and Frank took a picture of it. I have a picture of an American doing the same for a strange Italian or any other foreigner. Yet Italians and many other Europeans are just this way. They concern themselves over you and go far out of their way to help you. These sailors are all young and surely have adopted us as their friends. The sewing over, we pulled out the victrola for a piece or two. The crowd gathered immediately. Mort and Frank got out to write, so I was anchored in the midst of a dozen or more boys who never seem to tire of hearing the tango. We sailed into the harbor at Suez and started to unload. It grew dark. Still there was no escape. Luckily the needles got misplaced. I deny spiriting them away. At any rate a dozen sailors were snooping around the deck and behind boxes and crates for the lost. Matches got low and still no needles, so the party broke up. During the concern, boats came alongside and sugar, etc. was unloaded from our hatch.

After dinner we weighed anchor and sailed out into the narrow north arm of the Red Sea, leaving a silvery trail to the moon in our wake. I found Mort busy jabbering with two sailors when I returned from dinner. When we were gone, an Arab had tried to steal Mort’s typewriter and large suitcase. These two boys had been around listening to the music and when they saw our stuff going, they nabbed the Arab and got our things back, but let the thief go. This called for a lengthy conversation, lasting long after we were underway again. I did not stay for it all, but an hour later came back to find Mort exhausted.

Suez looked interesting, but no one was allowed to go ashore. Certainly its situation on the northern end of the arm of the Red Sea and the southern end of the Suez Canal is as strategic as it is beautiful. On one side the large harbor is encircled by high serrated cliffs. On the others by the broad, low, sandy wastes and the blue and green waters of the sea.

I determined to get more sleep than I did the previous night, so with Mort made an exploration into foreign territory to see what the chances of a deck chair were. They were terrible and we had to get back to our deck in a hurry when an officer hove in sight. I made a second trip there later and located a bamboo mat. This was exactly what I wanted for I spread it on the platform above the engine room and slept all night learning up against the wall—nice and warm. The fact that I was sitting on small iron bars two inches apart didn’t make it the most comfortable place in the world, and the roar of the engines made it more like a battlefield, but sleep is sleep and I needed it. I was dimly conscious of a couple of officers peering in through the door, faces all astonishment. Once, about one, Mort came in. He passed once but didn’t see me. Too sleepy, I suppose, for I was there.  This time he was too sleepy to come in the door and I had to get up. We yelled back and forth, not hearing a word because of the engines’ roar. I finally dragged out for a spin about deck. We found the bakery closed. When the bars were no longer impressed in the south end, I again went to sleep on my iron bed. Frank was only wrapped in two sweaters, two pairs of trousers, a woolen jacket, a scarf, a coat to his suit, and his trench coat. Tonight it should be warmer for we are in the Red Sea and shall be about opposite Luxor by evening.

[The actual date: Sunday, March 24, 1929]

Sunday Friday, March 24 22, 1929

Darned if I know where Sunday went. I believe I still possess a few senses, but somehow a day has disappeared.

Monday Saturday March 25 23, 1929

Most of the day was devoted to writing. There are 500 marines and sailors on board bound for Shanghai where they will stationed two years. All day long they came up to our open-air suite and sat looking on with sadness written in every feature. Such itching for the victrola I have never seen. But the needles, which Frank discovered later in the pocket of his coat, to all outward appearances remain lost. Sad expressions will have to continue till we get to Masawa in two or three days, then our excuse will no longer be good. The sun during the daytime is scorching hot. Tonight it is so mild I am sleeping on a crate in our boudoir, rather our desk. An almost full moon lights up the sea so that it is easy to read. In fact, Mort did do some reading by its light. Rippley waters and the path to the moon—molten silver. White billowy snow-clouds were tossed before the prow. It is hard to imagine a more perfect night. Land had faded from sight during the afternoon, leaving only intensely blue water on all sides.

Tuesday Sunday, March 26 24, 1929 Monday, March 25, 1929

My crate-bed was fine. All went fine except once during the night when I awoke to find Frank’s feet parked on top of me. How he ever got them there is a mystery to me because he was sitting down below me in a deck chair. I was up at six, just before sunrise. The moon still shone brightly in the west, close above the water. It was so beautiful that I took a picture of it. Suddenly it grew pale and in the east Amen-Ra appeared above the sea from his all-night trip through the Underworld.

Before 6:30 the sun’s rays burned hot on one’s neck. By nine we were roasting. I worked on a story till noon when it was finally finished. An Italian man from Venice likes to come around to watch us and talk. He speaks English and today told us something of what to expect ahead, as did an American who is traveling 2nd, I think. The heat has  our legs, ankles, and feet all out of proportion. My ankles are hardly discernible, so swollen are my legs, nearly one-third larger. My wrists are so large that I can’t get my fingers around them anymore. This afternoon Frank cut the bottom of my britches off and I sewed them, so now I have a nice cool pair of shorts.

[Actual date: Tuesday, March 26, 1929]

Wednesday Monday, March 27 25, 1929

Not a whole lot doing. It is hot less than a quarter of an hour after the sun is up. After a “caulda journo,” the evening was perfect and sleeping outside on a crate was a pleasure. Our boy friends continue to visit, but do not trouble us as much as at first. This evening at sunset we sighted the coastal mountains of the Sudan looming high above the water.

Thursday Tuesday, March 26, 1929

Another hot day. Can’t complain of the food. For breakfast, a roll, coffee, and rice; lunch—tripe, roll, cabbage, roast beef; for dinner—soup, mashed and sauté spuds with gravy, cauliflower, duck, roast beef, and Frank got some ice cream. They always insist upon giving us wine, too, but since I left Bethlehem, wine tasted like mud to me. Would rather have beer. Just before sunset, we sighted Nubia, a hilly coast stretching as far as the eye could see. The night was so mild, I slept without sweater or jacket.