Abu Simbel, Upper Egypt along the Nubian Border, circa 42 BC ... or thereabouts

"Em hotep! May I have your attention, please? Would the LOST group please report to the dock immediately? Your tour is about to begin. The LOST group. Little Orphans of the Scythian Tribes, your boat departs in fifteen minutes. Thank you."

The man from the tour company cleared his by now sore throat and went back to scratching out next week's tour schedule on a roll of papyrus. His announcement caused a minor uproar of shouting and shuffling as twenty-five school children who were more interested in kicking sand on each other than in the massive statues of Rameses II and his beloved Nefertari swarmed toward the wharf. The Wine Addicts Spring Touring Expedition Delegates (WASTED) did their best to avoid the crush, but several people found themselves trapped against Ramesses' colossal foot.

"Why are there school children here every time I take this tour?" Hilarity Hatshepsut moaned, shoving her companion's beaded head-dress out of her face. "Don't they ever go to a classroom?"

"Oh, stop moaning," Cleopatra replied. "We took these tours as children, too...and as I recall, you weren't any nicer that that young demon." She pointed to a nine-year-old who seemed to be trying to see how far he could make the sand fly.

His latest attempt measured a good ten feet — far enough to land on Maria's sandaled foot. She groaned and shook her ankle trying to remove the offending soil. "Don't you have anything but sand in this country?" she demanded in a high-pitched voice that was anything but a whine.

"I beg your pardon," Hilarity sniffed. "We have the most fertile soil in the world...at least, after the innundation we do. But that doesn't start for several months. We don't call our country Kmt for nothing, you know."

"Sand is good for your feet," Laurels replied sagely. "It's an abrasive that actually scrapes away the callouses and—"

"I don't have callouses," Maria sniffed. "I have them removed weekly ... properly with pumice."

"Oooo....the cosmetic queen has spoken," Laurels murmured, cutting her eyes slyly at Maria and Diantha. Hilarity and Cleo snickered, but apparently neither of their other companions had heard. Sighing with boredom, Laurels fluttered the neck of her stola, using it to fan herself. "Great Jumpin' Jupiter, it's hot here! How do you stand it? Please ... tell me it's cooler inside."

"Wimp," Cleo gibed.

Diantha moaned and raised a hand to her head. Her eyes were hidden behind spectacles with dark green crystal lenses. The emperor, himself, had given them to her and she never passed up a chance to remind her girls of the fact. "Please, Laur! Don't shout," she cried. "My head is falling off."

"You know what you need, girl?" Laurels said, clapping a hand on Diantha's shoulder and eliciting another groan. "A little hair of the dog that bit you."

Diantha lowered her spectacles to look closely at the mongrol puppy that was gamboling around her feet. "I'm not that desperate," she said dramatically, sliding the glasses back in place. She swayed slightly and shook her head gently. "On the other hand...do you think it would work?"

Maria snickered. "Well...you never know until you try."

"You Romans have very strange medical practices," Hilarity observed.

Diantha seemed to contemplate the idea. "Nooooo. Wine...that's what I need. Bacchus have mercy, I need a drink!"

"You always need a drink," Laurels pointed out. She leaned her head back to stare almost straight up at the colossi. "I have an idea...let's climb on top of his head. Maybe there's a breeze up there."

Hilarity looked scandalized, but Cleo just laughed.

"Who suggested this lousy tour, anyway?" Diantha continued, igoring the remark.

Hilarity, Maria and Laurels looked at each other, then turned their eyes to Decius.

"I might have known," Diantha sighed.

Decius, who had been examining the hieroglyphs carved into the temple walls, turned his attention to the travel scroll the touring company had given them. "This is amazing!" he exclaimed. "It says here Ramesses II built this temple as a tribute to his wife over a thousand years ago! No wonder there isn't any paint left on it." He looked up to find the three women staring at him, and his voiced died in his throat. "What?" he asked when they didn't speak.

"I'm being attacked by children!"

"I'm tired!"

"I'm hot!"

"I'm thirsty!"

"I have sand in my shoes!"

"Well, what did you expect? It's Egypt," Decius replied. He shrugged and went back to reading his travel brochure.

As Laurels and Maria struggled to keep Diantha from strangling him with her stola, their tour guide and personal demi-goddess Heraklia appeared, looking cool and refreshed. (In fact, she had been on Cloud 23 with most of the other demi-gods, drinking Falernian and watching the humans stumbled around in the sand....) "Well, kiddies, are we enjoying our trip?" she asked, cheerfully.

"Oh, yes!" Decius exclaimed.

Maria and Laurels almost had to tackle Diantha again as she lunged for Decius...or maybe it was Heraklia she was going for. Fortunately for them, the demi-goddess Cornellia popped into view at that precise moment and scowled at Heraklia. She had been on call all day, listening to complaints and whining from the supplicants in a score of Roman temples and had missed out on the Falernian party. Consequently, her mood wasn't much better than that of the humans. "I need a drink!" she exclaimed. "I'm tired, hot, thirsty, and I have sand in my shoes!"

"Now, Cornellia," Heraklia admonished. "Not in front of the humans. You're a demi-goddess; whip up a breeze."

"Ahhhhh....I've never been any good at 'breezes'," Cornellia growled. "Hurricanes, tornadoes...tsunamis. That's more my speed. I'll probably end up whipping up a sandstorm."

Heraklia turned back to her tour group and motioned toward the giant statues carved into the side of the mountain. "This is Abu Simbel, a temple built by Ramesses II." A fairly strong wind started to swirl, and she grabbed the skirt of her tunic to prevent it from fluttering out of control. "It deliniates the boundary between Egypt and Nubia," she continued, raising her voice to be heard over a distinct grinding sound that had begun with the wind. She glanced at Cornellia and raised one eyebrow. Her fellow demi-goddess shrugged and shook her head to indicate it wasn't her doing. "..so named for the ancient Egyptian word nebu, which meant gold. As you know gold was extensively mined in—"

*BOOM*

Without warning, a small rather scruffy looking wooden outhouse appeared where Heraklia had been standing. The members of WASTED stared, their mouths open in shock. After a moment, the door creaked open. A hand appeared, followed by the head and shoulders of a youngish looking man just moving into middle-age. He looked around curiously, whistling a tune completely out of keeping with Roman fashion. When his eyes fell on the tour group, he grinned broadly. "Oh, hello! I wasn't expecting anyone to be here in this century. I'm the Professor...and you are?"

Egyptian Wine Tour