…should stay in bloody Egypt. It’s going to be a miserable day tomorrow. Good job I bought a new saline nose-spray a couple of days ago – ‘Be Prepared’ doesn’t just apply to Boy Scouts, you know?
…should stay in bloody Egypt. It’s going to be a miserable day tomorrow. Good job I bought a new saline nose-spray a couple of days ago – ‘Be Prepared’ doesn’t just apply to Boy Scouts, you know?
Boadicea's Chariot 
Is this the Harmattan or the Simoon, (or just the f*cking dust)?
Not the faintest idea about the first two, LW, I’ll go for number three. I’m sure our resident geographer, (geographess?) could clue us in. It’s a damn nuisance when it occurs, that’s for sure. As my Grandson pointed out one afternoon, ‘Look, Poppop, my snot is black.) 😀
Hi Bravo,
No idea about any geographical context but would love to think that your title ‘The Sands of the Nile’ is a reference to the famous lyrical treatise which clearly established the cause and effect for the hump on a camel and the smile on the Sphynx.
The more of us that know about the whole sorry tale, the better, in my opinion.
😀
I ought to know and I’ve forgotten. But then I make a point to forget as much as possible about the bloody wogs! The blood pressure can only take so much!!! Shame it doesn’t choke a few of them or act as birth control.
What’s all that crap on the roof bravo? (I presume its a roof?)
It’s amazing how much of the Sahara regularly gets dumped in Pembrokeshire too.
As the old Rugby song goes (sung to the tune of the Eton Boating Song):
The sexual life of the camel
Is stranger than anyone thinks
At the height of the mating season
He tries to roger the Sphinx
But the Sphinx’s posterior orifice
Is blocked by the sands of the Nile
Which explains the hump on the camel
And the Sphinx’s inscrutable smile!
Actually, the word roger can be transcribde to something less politically correct!
FEEG – The real version (according to Kingston School) –
The sexual life of the camel
Is stranger than anyone thinks
One night by the light of the moon
He tried to bugger the Sphinx
But the Sphinx’s back passage is narrow
And blocked by the sands of the Nile
Which accounts for the hump on the camel
And the Sphinx’s inscrutable smile!
Not very different, just scans better! 😀
The Uni of Embra version, which scans even betterer, in my opinion:-
The sexual life of the camel
Is stranger than anyone thinks
One day in the heat of the desert
It attempted to bugger the Sphinx
But the Sphinx’s anal passage
Was blocked by the sands of the Nile
Which accounts for the hump on the camel
And the Sphinx’s inscrutable smile!
I always felt that the two verses of the song about the sexual proclivities of sailors were very powerful.
😀
Oooh, you are naughty. I found a youtube version but hesitated to post it in deference to the ladies…
As predicted, it’s a miserable day, been up an hour and my nose is blocked and, yes, my snot is black – or is that too much information?
And, ‘all that crap on the roof.’ Yes, it is a roof, and all the crap is an illustration of one of the less endearing traits of the local populace. They tend to dump their crap indiscriminately – though it is not so bad here in Cyprus as I found it to be in Egypt. This habit persists despite a reasonably efficient garbage collection system. Here in the village, for example, our rubbish is collected twice a week, with extra collections after public holidays when the population trebles, at least, as, just as in every other village in Cyprus, people with land or family connections in the village abandon the towns and come ‘home’ for a couple of days.
It is really annoying to find that any reasonably picturesque bit of countryside is usually marred by small mounds of rubbish scattered over it.
Remarkable, sand from the Sahara. I’ve seen documentaries where they show satellite images of huge sand storms heading west over the Atlantic, sometimes reaching the Caribbean!
Our Millenium cruise for Xmas/New Year 1999/2000 took us to Alexandria, delayed by a storm and arriving in the early evening instead of midday. Despite which the local tour guide insisted we were treated to the planned scenic bus-ride in pitch-black conditions, even stopping for a risible photo opportunity by the invisible sea. On our return to the ship we were reloaded into different buses for another hour-long journey to our dinner venue, where a distinctly unwashed crew were handling a buffet of local delicacies without gloves or implements of any kind. Our enquiry whether there was a ‘cooked’ option was ignored and we opted out altogether. On our eventual return to the ship we were advised that the planned excursion to the Pyramids the next day would go ahead with an armed security escort – confirming our impression that tourists were there under sufferance. We stayed in the city and ventured timidly into the market before making good our escape from the country for the last time.
Bearsy, Macka: 🙂
Well, I still think that “posterior orifice” is more poetic than the alternatives suggested! 🙂
I remember some German tourists who had left their towels on their loungers overnight in Lanzarote getting a nasty shock the following morning to find their once pristine white towels were now stained with the red dust of the Sahara. In Nigeria, it was called the Harmattan.
And I remember an unseemly fracas in Greece more than twenty years ago when ‘Zer Chermanz’ strolled as usual around lunchtime down to the pool and found all their towels in it with not a sunbed to be had. It brought a lump to my throat. em>Lebensraum was a busted flush even in 1939 but the lesson apparently needed to be relearned by the present generation.
OZ