"Eh, moustache," calls the shopkeeper as I saunter by, "you want to buy gold? A present for your lovely lady?"
No, I explain, I've been given strict instructions she doesn't want any more gold.
"You want to look at carpet? Upstairs I have very big room. Many, many carpet."
No, I don't want a carpet.
"You want to go to Abu Simbel? I have very good car."
No, sorry, I don't want to go to Abu Simbel either.
This final rejection plunges him into gloom.
"Oh, my heart is broken. God does not love me today."
For consolation the poor man turns to his nargila, or water pipe, in which he appears to be smoking apple blossom.
Shopping in the markets of the Middle East is a fascinating experience, especially if your previous idea of retail thrills involved Victoria Park Market.
Sometimes it can be irritating, when souvenir vendors get too pushy. It can also be confusing when a trader selling T-shirts shouts, "One dollar. Only five Egyptian pounds" but you find once he has lured you in he has nothing at that price.
And it takes a while to get used to having to haggle for everything, but once you get into the swing of things, it's great fun and all part of the experience of other cultures, which is what travel should be about.
My first foray this time around was at a small market in the ancient Egyptian capital of Memphis, where, acting on the guide's advice that this was a better place to buy than the Grand Bazaar in Cairo, I haggled for three stone statues of Egyptian gods.
The stallholder opened the bidding by explaining how poor he was. I countered by pointing to his plump belly. He explained he had two wives. I responded feebly with my three grandchildren. It was all very jolly.
I think in the end I must have got a good price, because he suddenly turned surly as he packed up the statues, but who would know?
After that I had a training course in haggling from a young Australian couple, Ben and Courtney, who have spent several years in Abu Dhabi.
They said the key was, "the 60 per cent rule".
In other words, you should be able to buy for about 60 per cent of the opening price and should aim your counter bids accordingly.
This gives some structure to the process.
Courtney disgustedly refused to buy from a trader who breached etiquette by offering an opening price for a dress of E400 ($94) and then dropping to just E$20 ($4.70). "He's mad. He's out of it. He doesn't follow the rules."
They also explained the three kinds of prices: First price, best price and last price. "When they say last price that's about it," said Ben.
"You may possibly get another pound off but probably not."
Armed with this information we made frequent forays into the souks, sometimes to buy, but more often just to enjoy the atmosphere.
Every town has a market and the cities have several. They are all delightful.
My favourite is at Aswan. Once you get past the shops nearest the River Nile, which cater for tourists, it's a genuine local market, the touting for business is amiable and low-key and a lot more than souvenirs is on sale.
In a barber's shop encrusted with the grime of centuries we saw an old man getting a cut-throat razor shave from an even older and ferocious-looking barber.
On a stall caged chickens and pigeons awaited their fate.
Nearby was a side of beef, swarming with flies, with the butcher slicing off whatever his customers wanted.
At another stall piled high with strange-looking vegetables and mounds of exotic-smelling spices. the vendor almost sang his offerings.
"Yoooooooooooooou want spiiiiiiiii-iiiiiiiiices, yes?"
"No thanks."
"Ohhhhhhhhh, why noooooooot?"
"I don't cook." (I though that would be easier than explaining about our agricultural rules.)
"Oh noooo. That is teeeeeeerrible. You must leeeeeeeearn."
The stallholders are amazingly smart.
In one shop I watched as the proprietor simultaneously conducted negotiations with us in English and with other customers in Italian and Spanish.
How many languages did he know? "One for every customer."
In a jewellery shop, when we had the temerity to suggest he didn't stock what we wanted, the owner went out the back and came back with two huge sacksful, which he tipped on to the counter and asked, as they all do, "Where you from?"
"New Zealand."
"Ah, New Zealand. Xena. Hercules. Very beautiful."
During the haggling he told my wife, "You will be a very rich woman. Your husband is very careful with the money."
And later, after we had bought a bracelet, he asked, "Is your country really as it looks in Xena? Really so green?"
I suppose it's no surprise they know of New Zealand because the whole world seems to mix in these souks.
Folk of every colour, clad in everything from jeans and T-shirts to black, all-encompassing abeyyas, from tiny girls in chiffon party dresses to old men in skull caps and filthy brown robes, share the narrow winding alleys with trucks, cars, donkey carts and horses, even the occasional camel, all weaving between the stalls.
You can literally buy anything in the souks. In Dubai, the famous gold souk glows with the bullion displayed in the windows of its 150 shops.
Nearby, the ancient spice souk is now full of shops selling plastic junk from Shanghai, but a few alleys are still thick with exotic smells from its mysterious orange, yellow and brown mounds.
In Amman, a giant vegetable market near the King Hussein Mosque is where the locals buy their chickpeas and garlic, peppers and chillies and parsley and onions, amid much shouting and gesticulating.
Around the corner, Yemeni refugees run a huge market selling secondhand clothes from Europe. And the tourist market in the same area is run mainly by refugees from the city of Bukhara in Uzbekistan.
The 14th-century Khan El Khalili Bazaar in Cairo is more of a tourist destination these days, with hundreds of tiny shops selling all manner of souvenirs and crafts.
But it still swarms with locals who particularly enjoy having a coffee or mint tea in one of the many cafes lining the square of the Al-Azhar Mosque.
The owner had great fun pretending to sell me some viagra pills.
"Just one and you do 20 times. Aha."
"No thanks. Too many times already. Too tired."
"Too many times?" Eyes bulge with mock amazement. "Very lucky man." Turning to my wife he adds, "Very lucky woman. To you no charge."
The tea - black tea in a glass into which you put mint leaves from a bush on the table, plus a couple of spoons of sugar - was deliciously refreshing.'
The most aggressive market I went to was in Edfu, where sticky-fingered touts were grabbing visitors by the arm to try to drag them into shops. Needless to say it had the opposite effect.
By contrast, several shops in Aswan have signs proclaiming, "No hassle", and in a couple, the shopkeepers followed an effusive welcome by saying, "Now I leave you alone". Those were mostly the places where we bought.
And boy, are they good salesmen (and they are almost all men).
Now, does anyone want to buy two Arab headdresses that I don't seem to have a use for? I give you a good price.
* Jim Eagles and Alan Gibson went to the Middle East as guests of United Travel and Ancient Kingdoms Holidays.
Getting there
United Travel has return flights from Auckland to Cairo starting from $2559 a person return or to Dubai from $2149 a person return (both plus taxes and surcharges).
Getting Around
Ancient Kingdoms Holidays has a 14-day tour of the region, available through United Travel, starting in Cairo and ending in Amman. This includes sightseeing in Cairo, a five-day Nile Cruise, Petra, and sightseeing in Amman. Prices start from $3290 a person share twin (valid for departures May-September).
Ancient Kingdoms Holidays can also organise a Dubai Stopover package from $370 a person, share twin. This includes airport transfers, three nights' accommodation and a four-wheel-drive desert safari (valid for departures until 30 September).
Getting in
Prepay $50 a person and you'll be met on arrival inside immigration and helped to get your visa, complete arrival formalities and contact your transport.
Very good price for you
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