Another gangplank, another country, another customs hall.
After the Black Sea and two weeks in the Soviet Union,
Istanbul comes as quite a shock to the system.
I feel disoriented,
as crumpled and travel-worn as the equipment we've lugged 5,000 miles.
I'd just put 'em down there, if I were you.
If the Soviet Union was the land of "niet", Turkey is the land of "How many do you want?"
Everything is available. In all sizes.
Pera Palas.
Thank you.
The car is, well, generous. It occurred to me I might have made a terrible mistake.
This is a taxi?
Probably the president's car.
Teach him to park in a taxi rank!
In one journey we'd probably used half the country's oil reservesl
But at least I'm within sight of a wash and brushup.
The hotel is famous, but not as famous as its occupants.
I'm given the very room in which Agatha Christie wrote "Murder 0n The 0rient Express".
Has she any message perhaps for a fellow writer?
(DOOR SLAMS)
The hotel was built in the "grand optimistic" style
before accountants ruled the world.
Every detail is probably more expensive than it need have been.
It's a relic of when this was a predominantly European city,
more Constantinople than Istanbul.
(TRAM BELL RINGS)
The trams that run along Pera Street, indeed Pera Street itself,
still reflect the acceptable face of Western commerce.
But the city is filling up fast.
In 30 years, the population has grown from under one million to over eight million people.
Most of them cannot afford to shop on Pera Street.
At the university people from Eastern Europe are trading on the edge of the law,
exchanging goods in the spirit, if not the currency, of this great commercial city.
Azerbaijanis sell to Poles, Armenians to Rumanians.
It looks furtive and dangerous, but it's often disappointingly mundane.
What's this?
Ahl A toy train ringl
(TOY SQUEAKS)
The truth is that Istanbul has always been one great bazaar.
It's a city dedicated to buying and selling.
Why change when there are mugs coming along every day?
That's nice.
- It is Turkish kilim. - Turkish kilim?
Is it very expensive?
- Cheap price. - Cheap? How much?
150 Deutschmark.
I'll just have a little look up here and maybe come back.
- I can make it a little cheaper. - Cheaper?
- Yes. - Good. I think we'll talk later.
- Good morning. - From?
- London. - I was in London.
- Were you selling carpets in London? - No, I was on holiday.
My business is I pray in the mosque.
- You pray in the mosque? - Yes.
- Are you a? - Imam.
- Really? - Yes, I'm an imam.
Aren't you working all the time in the mosque?
Every day, five times. I sing.
- God is big. Come to pray. - You lead the people?
- I lead every people. - You also sell carpets?
This shop is mine for 30 years.
I'll have a look down here. Maybe I'll come back.
- I have three shops. - It's yours as well? That's a big one.
- Eight metres. - Eight metres.
In Germany money, 1,500 Deutschmarks.
1,500 Deutschmarks. That's about... Three into that... About £500.
OK. I may come back. Thank you.
- Insh'Allah. - Insh'Allah.
But there's more to Istanbul than carpets.
There are men in false moustaches who can't march straight.
These are the Janissaries, an ancient and elite corps who mount guard at the Topkapi Palace.
Their job was to protect the Sultan,
but they were recruited from Christian not Muslim ranks,
presumably to guarantee impartiality.
They're certainly the best-dressed bouncers I've ever seen.
The Blue Mosque rates highly in the minaret-conscious world of Islam. It has six.
But the finest building in Istanbul is, for me, the mosque of Suleiman the Magnificent.
It has a cemetery in which lie the remains of illustrious courtiers.
The gravestones are said to be the same height as the graves' occupants.
Except in the case of Suleiman's massive tomb.
He was magnificent, but surely not this bigl
Headstones denote the rank and fame of once great men.
Modern worshippers still use the 400-year-old mosque for their five-times-daily prayers.
Ablutions are very much a part of the Islamic tradition, so when in Rome...
I'd like the best treatment you have, the full treatment.
- Which is that? - Number five.
"Treatment fit for a sultan."
- Somebody wash and somebody massage. - OK.
Thank you.
This emporium of cleanliness is the Cagaloglu Hamami,
one of the oldest Turkish baths in the world.
In 300 years of continuous business, it claims to have cleaned, among others,
Tony Curtis, Kaiser Wilhelm and Florence Nightingale.
I wonder where she put the lamp?
- Good? - Yeah! So far, so good.
My masseur is a man of few words but many pounds.
It's a bit like a very friendly steamroller!
Being a lawn that's being rollered!
I'm sure it's good for me.
I don't know this dance!
Then it's time for the washing-up. In this case I am the washing-up!
(HE CALLS OUT IN TURKISH)
My friend is using what they call a "hand-knitted oriental washcloth".
I can think of a better descriptionl
Wash very good.
This is the Brillo pad moment I've been waiting for.
- Wash, yeah? - Sandpapery surface.
Is that my dirt or yours? That's the dirt off me?
This is embarrassing!
I had a mud bath in Odessa. That's probably what this is all about.
I'm sure that's what they all sayl
It's a long, thorough process,
but at least it'll mean I shan't have to wash again till Cape Townl
Having been comprehensively washed and squashed,
I repair to the waterfront for an evening meal.
(MAN CALLS IN TURKISH)
- How much? - Three thousand.
The food's good, cheap, wholesome and you never need to book a table.
Beautifully done! Beautifully done. What service. Thank you.
It's time to move on and we catch the ferry to what my school atlas referred to as Asia Minor.
I should be admiring the skyline, but there's something more stunning in the newspaper.
There's been a coup in Russia. Gorbachev has gone, arrested.
I think of all the friends we made there. Things can only be worse for them.
For us lucky ones, life goes on.
We've escaped from the USSR by the skin of our teeth.
0ur route along 30° takes us from Istanbul, through Turkey,
to the shores of the Aegean, the Mediterranean and the mouth of the Nile.
0n a day of such news, it seems suitable that our short trip across Asia
takes us through a land with so much history.
Troy and Ephesus lie just over those hot, stony hills.
But we haven't time to be tourists.
We must find our way as rapidly as possible across the Mediterranean.
We don't stop until we reach the port of Marmaris on the Turquoise Coast of southern Turkey.
There are boats in the harbour, but none seem to be going beyond the next bay.
The Greek island of Rhodes, 50 miles south, seems as far as we'll get from here.
What should be an idyllic journey across a well-sailed sea
is becoming an unexpected frustration.
We've struck the holiday time of year and no one wants to go very far very fast.
0n landing at Rhodes, I make straight for the shipping office.
"For Cyprus and Israel, every Friday." That's tomorrow.
With a day to kill, I book in at a hotel of character on a quiet back street.
(MOPED PASSES)
Well, it was quiet before I booked in.
There's a lot of history I don't know much about here,
so I seek out Vangelis Pavlides, local-born cartoonist of an Athens newspaper.
What's going on here?
- A sorting out of differences. - Everybody fighting for Rhodes.
It was a coveted place.
You obviously love the architecture and the buildings,
but the knights seem to be treated comically.
They were funny characters in their own way.
Rhodes has always attracted tourists, many of them with very large armies.
Spartans, Athenians, Romans, Turks and Italians all visited.
But the Knights of St John left the most indelible mark.
This is the Street of the Knights, the oldest street in the whole of Greece -
4th century BC - but these buildings are from the 14th and 15th centuries
when the Knights of St John came here.
They're beautiful. They're quite palatial. What were they used for?
They are the hostels of the different nationalities of the knights that were staying here.
So you have France, Italy, the hostel of England,
you know, all along the street.
And at the top you have the palace of the Grand Master.
This Christian frontier they defended so zealously fell in 1522
to the Muslim army of our old friend, Suleiman the Magnificent.
Battles nowadays are most likely to be fought for places on the beach,
and the invaders who do stay are happy to look at castles rather than build them.
In the village of Lindos, I pay a visit to someone who's made a future here.
- Patric Walker, Michael Palin. - Lovely to see you. Come in.
I gather you can give me some advice. Publicly?
- No. Privately. - It's a private consultation.
Few influence the British public more than Patric Walker, the astrologer.
Now, as we make our way across the Mediterranean, I need some guidance.
In general, is this a good time to make a Pole to Pole journey?
In general, yes. Specifically, at the moment, I'm slightly surprised that you're here at all,
in that I thought you would have been held up.
Yes, we're quite surprised we're here. What are you keeping from us?
Since August 8th, a thing called a retrograde Mercury...
It's when Mercury appears to be travelling backwards.
It isn't, but it appears to be.
Between August 8th and September 2nd this is going on.
It's a time when all forms of communication and travel plans tend to be disrupted.
It's usually the last few days of those three weeks that tend to be the trickiest.
What else can go wrong?
Where will you be in those last few days of August?
Cairo and Port Said, at that time.
What would your advice be? To stay here?
- No, no. - Until it blows over?
No. It's just be prepared, have alternative plans. That's it, really.
Is there another way you can go?
Retrograde Mercury notwithstanding,
we squeeze onto a ferry carrying holidaymakers from Athens back to Israel.
Trouble is, seeing holidaymakers makes me think of time off
and time off makes me think of home
and home makes me think of, well, holidays.
Cyprus, where the British garrison maintains our military presence in the Mediterranean.
But today is bank holiday and they're on cream-tea alert.
- Can I join you? - We've got somebody important coming!
Very popular, isn't it, this tea tent?
Despite temperatures near 100, people are playing cricket.
0ne man I spoke to was off to referee a football match.
Everybody seems to do sport day in, day out.
Is there any military life here or is that an illusion?
Illusion sometimes. I think the force is a hobby.
It revolves around sport more than anything. Sport is played nearly every day.
And it's a great life.
Because we're in a very hot country,
we tend to finish work by half past one, having started at seven.
So most afternoons are free for sport.
What happened during the Gulf War, with being in the front line?
It was very difficult, especially during the early days when we were particularly busy.
But sport becomes even more important then.
People are working hard, need to get away, need to get some recreation.
Cricket, rugby, football and the rest didn't stop but came second to the operation.
Cyprus, like Rhodes, has seen empires come and go.
The British have brought their playing fields, kept green by the miracle of treated effluent.
The Romans and Greeks left their temples, amphitheatres and legends.
Like that of Aphrodite's birthplace, a rock which stands off the coast.
Swim three times round it at full moon and you'll live for ever.
Meanwhile, Cypriot life, unbothered by great events,
maintains its own rituals and traditions.
(BELL T0LLS)
Today there's a wedding in Polemi, near Paphos,
and it's not going to be a quiet affair.
(PRIESTBEGINS SERVICE IN GREEK)
Ariadne Kyriacu is marrying Polycarpus Polycarpu.
They are the stars of a long and spectacular show.
First on the bill is the baby-rolling act,
which wishes happiness and fertility on the marital bed.
Then there's the welcoming of the guests, more of an endurance test than you'd think.
- How many people are you expecting tonight? - About 3,000.
- 3,000?! - At least 3,000.
- You provide food and drink? - Yeah.
- Must be very expensive. - It is, yeah.
- It may cost 10,000 Cyprus pounds. - And who pays for that?
The family of both groom and bride, yeah.
I'm amazed you've still got a suit and a tie!
The financial blow must be softened by the tradition that no guest arrives empty-handed.
Congratulations!
The celebrations expand to fill the largest public space in the village.
And the money keeps rolling in.
Miss Petty Cash, 1991I
(SINGS TRADITIONAL SONG)
Music and dancing continues into the night
under the beady eye of the widows they call "blackbirds".
0ld-fashioned weddings like this one don't happen much any more.
I hope the couple have a long life together.
If it's anywhere near as long as their wedding, they should be fine.
Slowly the sun rises to reveal Africa.
0ur third continent in seven days, our home for months ahead.
Egypt is out there, but no one's quite sure how to get to it.
A Loch Ness monster of a pontoon is towed towards us and the fun begins.
Hello. Wanna buy a nice wallet for you?
Nice wallet?
Lovely wallet?
(SPLASH)
Within minutes, we're in trouble.
0ur camera tripod rolls into the Mediterranean.
Solutions are strong on enthusiasm but low on practicality.
(SPEAKS IN ARABIC)
Later. Much later.
The tripod has been retrieved by a diver from 60 feet down in the mud.
That's only the start of the problems. Passepartout has spent seven hours in customs.
We've wasted a whole day's filming.
Some say in Africa things like this are bound to happen.
Astrologers would say, "Patric Walker warned you."
I don't know who's right. We're going to Cairo, keep out of Mercury's way.
We'll take a few pictures of ships going through the Suez Canal.
Ships on the Suez Canal. As good as our word.
The Egyptian effect begins to take over.
It involves finding a bench, sitting down
and accepting there's nothing you can do about anything. God will provide.
It's a philosophy which helps out here, especially in Cairo.
This is Rameses station.
Excuse me, do you know the train to Luxor?
- Yeah. - Luxor.
- Number eight. - What?
- Number eight. - Number nine? Through that arch?
(THEY SPEAK IN ARABIC)
- Luxor. Overnight train. - Number nine.
- Nine. OK. - Eight.
- Eight or nine? - Nine.
He works here. You say eight? He says nine.
- Yes. - He works here, doesn't he?
You say platform eight for Luxor?
- Luxor? From platform number eleven. - Eleven?
Anyone else? Luxor. Eleven, eight, nine.
Which is the platform for Luxor? The night train.
Sorry. Does it say it up there?
Yes.
- What number? - Eleven.
- Eleven. Is that right? - Yes.
Not eight or nine. Eleven. Where's eleven? Through there? Thank you.
I find the train, eventually, at platform 10.
- Which number? - Seven and eight.
- Down here? - Yes.
When I last left Cairo, I was trying to get round the world in 80 days.
I took a taxi east, into the desert.
Tonight, I face the more enticing prospect of a journey south,
down the Nile for the first time in my life.
440 miles south of Cairo is Luxor,
where my home for the next few days is moored on the Nile itself.
The scale and power of the buildings is greater than I was prepared for.
Tadorus, my Coptic Christian guide,
seems to know everybody there is to know.
The pharaohs are your ancestors. Are you directly descended from them?
- Sure. Coptic means Egyptian. - Coptic means?
- Egyptian. Pure Egyptian. - The floor would have been like this?
No, the floor in that time was made of precious stones.
All this was covered in precious stones?
Yes.
In the hypostyle hall at Karnak,
elaborate hieroglyphics recount the deeds of the god-kings 3,000 years ago.
2,800 years later, we no longer needed hieroglyphics.
We'd developed graffiti.
These extraordinary, massive stone columns, built to symbolise a forest, is one room.
How could they build like this when Britain was still on stone circles?
Tadorus knew Howard Carter, the man who uncovered Tutankhamen's tomb.
When I asked Mr Howard Carter how they...
Well, they bring it from Aswan quarry,
but I tell him how they put it on this space?
He said we've got very modern cranes that can shift more than 200 tonnes.
- He said, "Maybe by magic." - Magic.
Moses, when he met pharaoh,
he threw his stick like that,
stick of Moses became snake.
That's magic.
0n the other side of the Nile is the Valley of the Kings,
an inhospitable, sun-bleached canyon
beneath which was stored immeasurable wealth,
the tombs of 62 pharaohs.
- How many tombs have been found? - 40.
Unfortunately, nothing has been found in them.
Already robbed, except Tutankhamen.
- So 22 tombs still to be discovered. - Not yet.
- What was discovered in this tomb? - 1892.
- In 1892, yeah. What was in it? - Nothing.
- Why? - Robbed by the robbers.
They'd taken everything?
I don't like to see it robbed. Since long nobody cared about the monuments.
You were present when Tutankhamen's tomb was discovered by Howard Carter.
People say there was a curse on those who saw the tomb.
No curse at all.
- How can you be sure? - Newspapers wrote what they liked.
They like a good story.
- A mosquito flew out? - No mosquito.
They say a mosquito came out of the tomb and bite him and he died. No.
He discovered the tomb in 1922. He stayed in the tomb up to 1927.
He returned back to England in 1927. He died in 1939, a very old man.
Can you show me now some of the carvings here?
Tell me what they mean. Who are they of?
In this tomb the carving is very deep.
- This is Rameses? - He's wearing a false beard.
- Why? - High priest.
- Why are they always in profile? - They look nice in profile.
Cultural cruises down the Nile have become big business in the last 10 years
but the Gulf War has scared customers away and there are only 30 aboard the Isis
as we move at a leisurely pace towards Aswan.
But the culture we've paid to see is the culture of 3,000 years ago.
The realities of life in modern Egypt hardly impinge on our cocoon of comfort.
At Esna we run into something I hadn't expected, a Nile traffic jam.
It's caused by a lock which can only accommodate one ship an hour.
Delays of up to two days have been known.
Local retailers mount an amphibious operation.
A squadron of boutiques takes to the water.
0thers attack from the land, bombarding us with bargains.
- Is it all sizes? - One pound for looking.
One pound for looking? Ah.
Wa-hey!
Is it waterproof?
Right, let's have a look.
He saw you coming, charging you a pound to look.
Now, anyone else? Ten pounds? Ten pounds for a look!
- Not too much for you! - Not my colour!
- Why no? - Here we are.
- How much? - A pound.
- Huh? - A pound.
- One pound? - One pound. My final offer.
- One pound for looking! - Why do you laugh? What's funny?
A free look. Is that a free look?
No obligation.
- Thank you. - Give me five pounds!
We have a seven-hour delay. An educational trip is hastily arranged.
We don't get far.
£35?! I bought one better than that for 20 on the boat.
- Touch this cotton. - It was jolly good cotton.
- This is first cotton. - That was first cotton.
- 10 Egyptian pounds. - Impossible.
- Give me 20 English money. - Not on your nelly!
Eventually we fight our way to the temple of Kom 0mbo,
dedicated, suitably, to the sacred crocodile.
It's hot among the colonnades and hypostyle halls.
The strain is telling on those at the frontiers of technology.
It's not clicked on, Gerald.
I've done everything properly. Don't start nattering.
(TOUR GUIDE TALKS)
For some people, the search for knowledge is uncompromising.
For others, a bit of temple fatigue is setting in.
- Do you like the guided bit? - As long as it's not too much.
I think it's proved that after 20 minutes the mind goes blank.
I proved that at school!
Pat and Gerald are from Sheffield, but they're citizens of the world.
(PAT) Brazil's even better. You sit in a café and the shop comes to you.
You've been... Where haven't you been?
The end of the day is for peace and contemplation,
a time to surrender to the soothing magic of the Nile sunset.
Unless it happens to be Fancy Dress Night.
It's billed as "The highlight of your trip",
which certainly puts Egypt in its placel
(APPLAUSE)
- How much you like? You like? - Five Egyptian pounds.
Oh, my God! Five Egyptian pounds? No!
- One hundred and fifty pounds. - Not on your nelly!
You try it!
Try it on. No photographs!
(PAT) Ladies and gentlemen,
I give you your own, your very own, Mr Gerald Flinders.
# I'm 'Enery the Eighth, I am
# 'Enery the Eighth, I am, I am
# I've been married to the widow next door
# She's been married seven times before
# All the ones were a Henery... #
# Underneath the arches
# I dream my dreams away... #
Ta-ta, folks! That's all!
There's no escape. Everyone's expected to dress up...
even actors.
I'd like to lower the tone of the evening
by attempting to recite the great work of Percy Bysshe Shelley, the poem, "Ozymandias".
"I met a stranger from an antique land
"Who said,"Two vast and trunkless legs of stone stand in the desert..."
(EGYPTIAN MUSIC AND SINGING)
Aswan marks the end of the tourist trail.
Those who venture south from here do so at their own risk.
The ferry boat Sinai takes everyone who wants to travel and their possessions.
I've never seen so many people trying to get on a ship.
(SHIP'S HORN BLOWS)
No turning back now.
From here on, everything is new, unfamiliar and very confusing.
(DISTORTED ARABIC ON SHIP'S TANNOY)
As Egypt slips away, so does any remaining hope of predictability.
The journey should be simple - across Lake Nasser to Wadi Halfa
where we take a train for Khartoum and south to the heart of Africa.
But, of course, it isn't as easy as that.
This ferry only exists to connect with a train in Wadi Halfa in the Sudan,
Aswan being in Egypt.
The train used to run to Khartoum daily,
then it changed to weekly, and we heard a few days ago it'll now run fortnightly.
No one told the ferry company, so we arranged a meeting
between the governor of Wadi Halfa and the ferry company to get this ferry going.
So we will get to Wadi Halfa and the Sudan, we hope,
where we've heard the train we connect with is now running every month.
This is Africa. 0n Lake Nasser, schedules are flexible.
Life on board is remarkable for its tolerance.
No one complains about lack of space,
and no one else has yet found the reading rooml
I settle down to do a bit of preparatory research.
I wish I hadn't.
Just about anything you eat in Africa could kill youl
There's so little room, the restaurant is also the immigration office.
They'll serve you a salad and stamp your passport.
What kind of soup is that?
(MAN REPLIES IN ARABIC)
- Chicken. - Chicken? This is incredible!
Not all at once! Too much.
Right, thank you.
Own knife, fork and spoon. No cutlery on this boat. Thank you. That's nice.
Great. Thank you.
Thanks.
(THEY SPEAK IN ARABIC)
The food's rather tasty. It turns out I'm eating it at the captain's table.
- I have a good wife. - Do you?
So do I. It's very important in this life.
- Egyptian wife? - Mm-hmm.
- Only one. - You've only one?
Yeah. Some people have more.
- No, you can't. I'm Muslim and I can. - I see, yeah.
If you've got one that's just right, you don't want any more.
Next morning, the port of Wadi Halfa lies ahead of us.
It looks as promising as my guide book's description of the country -
"The Sudan is fraught with turmoil, economic chaos, civil war,
"drought, famine and refugee crisis."
I can't wait.