Only in Egypt, land of monumental architecture, would this building be called a kiosk. That's the lake, just visible behind Trajan's Kiosk, and under the trees to the right was a little souk and refreshment area.
That, my friends, is a felucca, sitting just offshore where our motorboat will leave us to our camelling. The bluff behind the felucca is riddled with tombs. By landing at the Noble's Tombs, we took the long way 'round to the monastery, about half an hour or so of blissful desert riding.
Oh, yeah! That's Don, still in his hat, and our two police escorts, toting guns and pretty bored by the whole thing. But good-natured and chatty. You get on a camel while it's kneeling; when they stand up it's like being on a bucking horse.
Greg's got the camera now: that's Don, me, and one of the guys who owns the camels we're riding. I didn't realize it at the time, but I had the rattiest-looking camel ever. I also noticed that the camels ridden by the owners were stylin', with geometric designs cut into the camel's hair. But tourists? We got the hoopdies.