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In Egypt, I am Rambo. On my recent trip to Egypt, while walking streets heavy with foot traffic, shopkeepers would shout my new nickname to gain my attention. “Rambo, over here!” one yelled. “Johnny Rambo, where are you going?” asked another.These welcoming merchants invited me into their shops for tea. They anointed me with artisanal perfumes of lavender, sandalwood and an exotic-smelling scent dubbed the Secret of the Desert. I bet the real Rambo never smelled so spicy. I was wrapped in scarves, draped in tunics and tempted with gold and jewelry.A stroll through the markets of Egypt can do wonders for a jetlagged ego. The compliments run more verdant than the Nile.
Vendors in Hurghada and throughout Egypt are quick to strike up a playful conversation. // (C) 2010 Nir Nussbaum
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Egyptian Tourist Authority 877-773-4978www.egypt.travel