What a trial!!

Congratulations Connie, you have finally made it!!! I give myself a pat on the back. The system has finally allowed me to write to the world. It kindly put me in touch with the Turkey Blog belonging to Dale Neill and I was happy to read his humorous (I did spell it with an 'e' to begin with for our farming community) attempts to entertain us. But I read that I had offended him on our squeeze session in the basket of the balloon ride. So, to make it up to him I will write what I consider a complimentary expression of the fun time we had with him a couple of years ago in Egypt. And, I didn't insult him then. Or I don't think I did! You decide!
In and Out of Step in Egypt
The tour inscription said Wild Heart! Was this a prerequisite? Had they heard about me? I was different: I'd never been interested in photography. I'd spent 43 years imaging the human body and had driven every Radiologist mad with my coning down (cropping in Dale's language). My exposure choices made the most of contrast and resolution.I was one of the originals: we had to use the dark room with hand development of our films. Out of that darkness we had to surface with positive results. People's health and survival depended on our work. But photography? NO!
The favourite part of my Canon G10 was the exposure button now that we had gone digital: no one needed to know that. Could I survive this tour with only a G10?
The moment I stepped on to the bus an array of cameras and accessories, enough to fill any shop window sent me into shock.
I fumbled to find a seat so that I could stretch my legs (the longest part of me) without kicking the person in front or, tripping our Master (photographer) Dale. He scampered up and down the aisle pointing to sites, sharing camera requirements or options and interspersing his enthusiasm with category one to three, jokes.I found it challenging to encourage him to share with us his category three but, it never came to pass. he knew the real controller was seated at the back of the bus and it would be hell when we eventually returned to our hotel. Was I trying to distract him from the serious stuff? Perhaps.
We had been warned. Egyptians are friendly, open hearted and like to joke (so did our Master). A el hamdulilah (with the hand of God) he introduced us to Egyptian History of religion. Not only the 12th century Citadel, Mohammed Ali Mosque and the Al Azhar Mosque, the Hanging Church, the nave on top of the southern gate of an old Babylonian fortress but our Master had been to heaven. Ask him about his time as an alter boy at his local Catholic Church.
We knew our Master had followed his own advice on learning some words of the language when we saw him flitter like a butterfly from one stall to another at Khan El Khalili (one of the biggest bazaars in the Middle East): materials, carpets, hats, smoking pipes, T-shirts, spices the colours of a rainbow. This was home to him. We tried to keep up with our light master; his shadow disappearing amongst magnificent contrasts of colour, texture, beaming faces and bargaining in cobble stoned laneways: the mystique enlarged by imposing archways exposing their ancient origins and low light. Our experience with him in Turkey, I have to admit, was similar but bus travel and being cooped up in a balloon basket may have cooled his enthusiasm somewhat. And then some woman, greying, fat and and 1.79metres tall (with bad breath dare I say) had the audacity to call him "SMALL!"
There is much more to this Egyptian story as I had written it and combine with photos had entered it into the competition run by the Tour organisers. When they read about my description of Dale they called the competition off! No, not true. Only two people had bothered to enter so it was a no-go! But even if the Egyptian Tour no longer exists I know for a fact that the Tour to Turkey with Dale is on next year, I think. And I can recommend it!