(Alternative title: Bad life decision #27…)

Abu Simbel.   One of the most stunning temples built by Ramses II (and that dude built basically everything in Egypt, seriously…) and really, really far away.   We sailed down the Nile River for 3 days and still, it was really, really far away.   But it was supposed to be stunning.   We debated on and off for months if we should add it to our trip.  We decided early on to cut the option to fly there since it was an extra grand for an hour’s visit, but apparently the option to drive was still on the table…so at 6pm on Wednesday we asked our guide to please swap the plans for the next 2 days and arrange for us to drive to Abu Simbel at 11am on Thursday morning…on a convoy to Sudan.

Remember when I said I’m not good with maps?  I wasn’t kidding.   And it wasn’t until my husband zoomed way in on the location of Abu Simbel that I decided to question what country was on the border just 15 or so miles from where we were headed the next day.  Sudan.  Yup.  So when our guide told us that they had to petition the government to have our names and passport numbers approved to join the convoy driving from Aswan to Abu Simbel, it probably should have been my red flag that we were about to embark on a 6 hour round trip ride through the barren desert towards the civil war torn nation of Sudan, armed with only our cameras and a lunchbox. [Ed. note: I thought this was an excellent life choice]

So those were my first impressions before we ever started the day.   When it was time to actually leave the boat, it was time for reality…our car pulled up and instead of being the SUV we had become used to on the excursions, this was a minibus.  I couldn’t figure out why a minibus was necessary for the two of us, a guide, and our driver with no luggage…and then we started collecting our entourage.  We got a second driver to handle the route home because apparently 300 km into the barren desert is challenging on the eyes and they need a rested person to bring you back.   But that wasn’t all, as we were about to depart with our convoy (of 3 cars total…apparently this road trip to Sudan isn’t the most popular trip extra…) the passenger door opened and I caught a glimpse of a very large, very real machine gun coming to sit on the armrest…and it was followed by a military member in full uniform.  Not only is the convoy escorted by the officials, but some cars get the bonus of a ride along to keep things cozy.   So for those keeping count, we now had 4 large Egyptian men in the tour van and my husband and I sitting in the back, relieved the car had wifi so we could iMessage each other “WTF” and “did you see that gun??”…WiFi that lasted until we left cell reception of the city…

The trip was (thankfully) uneventful.   The large machine gun stayed hidden.  The back up driver slept.  The lunch boxes were delicious (although a bit overkill with 6 sandwiches for each of us…).  We even learned a fun little tidbit of trivia that turned us into vegetarians for the remainder of Egypt…  We were being passed by truckloads of camels.   Cute, bony creatures like what we rode on last month.   Our guide let us know that they were imported from Sudan.  Okay, so they are being trucked up to Cairo for rides around the Pyramids, got it.   Well, almost.   They were being trucked up to Cairo, yes. To the butchers.  Apparently, camel meat is very en vogue.

Abu Simbel was stunning.   It was simply massive and again, we were nearly the only people there so we were able to explore the temples privately and see every inch of it.  But when it was time to head back, I was very happy to put some more distance between myself and Sudan…and have the large machine gun riding home in a different car this time!

Our bank card didn’t work today.   The ATM didn’t give a reason, more of a big bold “Are you kidding me?” notice.   We figured it would happen a time or two along the route of these 3 months.   There’s only so many countries the fraud alert system allows you to input before it gets full.   But we had already used the ATM in Cairo earlier in the week, so we had assumed Egypt was on the safe list…

Let me back up.   When we got to Cairo, we were smarter about the currency conversion issue and only took out a very small amount of money first to figure it out.  We planned to get more once our heads were clear…but from day 2 to day 6 we didn’t manage to come across another working ATM.   Honestly, from Cairo to Luxor and onto Esna, each one we stopped at was out of service…  So when we got off the boat in Edfu to see another temple, we were starting to tip people in leftover Euro and getting a little concerned.   Thankfully, the ATM was bustling!  Good sign!   But, alas, this tiny town on the coast of the Nile was apparently too far out of the Schwab Bank network to get recognition…

I guess when your ride from the boat to the ATM is a horse and buggy, you can’t be that surprised about the technology not working for you…

We started to slowly sail down the Nile after lunch our 2nd day on the ship.  We sat ourselves up on the top deck with water and Kindles, ready to enjoy the strange and beautifully scenery of lush green river banks immediately next to the dusty Sahara Mountains.   As the boat made slow turns around the curve of the river, we kept moving our seats to chase the shade…because even though this is our 2nd week in the Sahara this month, we are still pale, pale people and have no problem staying that way!

The near empty ship meant that the deck was quiet and the only sounds we heard was the occasional call to prayer as we sailed by a Mosque…or that is what we expected.   Instead, we heard the pirates.  

The vendors at every temple and pyramid are quite relentless.   They almost chase you to buy a statue, scarf, or a book of postcards.  But we were away from all that until tomorrow morning and were happy for the break!  But not in Esna.   In Esna, the vendors will not be deferred.   They come into the Nile in their tiny little fishing boats and they row and row until they are in front of a moving cruise ship, and then drift up alongside it, and then they tie on, just like pirates.   And they yell..

“Hello!  Hello my friend!  Hola!  Where you from?  Hello!  Hello…”

It does not stop until one curious passenger finally peaks over the side to see what is causing the ruckus…and they they start with vigor, holding up dresses and shawls.  If you so much as show a glimmer of interest, they will take a plastic bag of their items and throw them 3 stories up over the top of the railing for you to pick what you want and toss the money back down!  

None of us on the boat bit but we couldn’t help but watch as they finally untied themselves and quickly rowed to catch the ship following us down the Nile…What a way to run a business!

On our first day in Cairo, we got collected by our guide and started the journey out to Dahshur, where some of the oldest Pyramids live.  Yes, the Giza Pyramids are the most well known, but they are actually 100 years or more newer than the first Pyramids.   So we started at the very beginning to see the Step Pyramid, the Bent Pyramid, and the Red Pyramid.  And we were the only people there.

Honestly, we got to the Red Pyramid and the parking lot which is as big as a football field was empty except for our car and one military man armed with an automatic weapon.  Guides aren’t allowed inside any tombs around Egypt, so we were left on our own with these instructions: “You cannot take any photos inside the Pyramid, but the guard might ask for a little money to let you…”  

And then we were off.   We climbed up 140-ish steps up to the middle of the Pyramid where a solo Egyptian man sat by the entrance.   He glanced at our tickets and then showed us his palm with some coins and bills in it.   My husband dropped in the smallest Egyptian pound we had…and then took a few Euro back as change.  Then we were quite literally on our own.

The path down into the burial chambers was another 140-ish steps…only instead of actual stairs there was a ramp with a cross bar every 2 or so feet to stop your boot as you slide down the shadowy tunnel where only a third of the lights were working.   And this tunnel was only 3 feet tall, so while I was crouched over a bit, my poor husband was mored than doubled in half and still hitting his head ever few steps.  The Ancient Egyptians were definitely not 6’4”…

Once at the bottom, the room opened up to 50 foot ceilings and you could see the backside over every massive stone they placed 5,000 years ago to build this strange structure.   I had sudden images of the rocks tumbling down and closing off the entrance we barely made it down and no one being able to hear our screams for help because the only person within earshot was an old Egyptian guard and we took change back from our bribe!

There were 3 chambers inside the Pyramid.  I hustled from one to the next, snapped a few photos and tugged on my husbands arm each time he stopped to stare and mutter “weird” over and over.  This place was cool and I can appreciate the history of it and the fact that it has been standing 20 times longer than American has even been a country, but I can appreciate that from outside…with airflow and the possibility of survival from any old and crumbliness.  

So up we climbed, with a few more mutters from the boy, only this time they were from the head hitting once again.   And when we saw the smiling face of the guard (who it appears didn’t take offense at the change thing, thank goodness!), I was able to breath again and not feel quite like I was about to be buried alive…until we went to the Giza Pyramids in a  week of course…

The Pyramids of Giza…the thing to see and do when you come to Egypt…and we wouldn’t be going to them until a full week after we got to the country!  Sure, we would see them from our deck in the hotel and out the window of the restaurant for lunch, but my husband wanted to be there now, right when we landed in Cairo!   So when the tour leader pitched some optional extra tours for our visit, we brushed off the visit to the old Aswan village and then sound and light show at the Luxor Temple…but he was persistent.

Once the guide figured out my husband likes to drive…and drive fast and maybe a little reckless like the laneless mess that is Cairo traffic…he had our number.   He showed a picture of a tour option and the Boy lit up like a Christmas tree.   And just like that, I had a 4:30 am wake up call for the next morning and was on my way to ride ATVs around the desert and the Pyramids of Giza…bad idea #21 of this trip for those who lost count already…

The reality of what we signed up for was unfortunately miles apart from the expectation set from that one shiny photo on the phone screen.  

The Expectation:  Us on a fast ATV speeding up and down the dunes that were so horrible for climbing in Morocco, then turning a corner to find ourselves at the base of the Great Pyramid and maybe we could zip around it a few times before doing donuts in front of the Sphinx as the sun rose, then posing for one pristine photo that we could use for life to show we are ridiculous badasses…

The Reality:  Dead Camel Lane…

We had to wait half an hour once we got to the ATV shop because the bikes wouldn’t start…and when they finally appeared on a backup bike, there was a rush to leave so we didn’t miss the sunrise we paid to see so the instructions were perhaps lacking.   One man came up to me and pointed to the right handle and said “gas” then the left handle and said “break”…and then he walked away.   Another man came up for what I assumed was the advanced lesson, but he simply pointed to the right handle in front and said “gas” then in back of the same handle he said “break” and finally pointed directly under my left foot and told me “do not touch”.   And that was it.   Our guide, who spoke no English whatsoever, took off down the windy alleys of Cairo and expected us to follow.   

So we did…We blindly went after this man passing horses and cars and school children who chased us hoping for some money and every few minutes he would turn around to ensure we were still in the vicinity.  And then, suddenly my husband wasn’t.  His ATV died in the middle of a dirty winding alley of Cairo and we left him behind…so the guide turned around to help and suddenly I was left alone in a narrow space unsure of how long or even how to turn my ATV around to go join my safety of the guide and the husband…poor life decisions indeed…

When we got running again, we turned towards the desert…but we still had a distance to travel to the dunes.   Specifically, we had to travel down what we both independently dubbed “Dead Camel Lane”.  I should back up and mention that Cairo is a very dirty city.   The citizens seem to be of the mentality that they can dump their trash anywhere along the way and someone else will worry about cleaning it up or burning it.   So there are trash piles everywhere you look…and on the small windy road to the desert on our ATVs, they also chose those trash piles to leave 2 dead horses and a dead camel at the bases.   Have you ever tried to hold your breath for 100 yards while trying to steer an ATV along a rocky, sandy desert path?   It’s impossible and the stench of decaying camel is something that might never be erased…

Thankfully, that was the last scary hurdle before we got into the desert.   Pyramids here we come…or so we thought…We went up the hills and across the sandy “roads” and our guide started communicating with hand signals which was a smart plan as we were speeding through the dust…except they never told us what the hand signals meant, so each time I thought he was either telling me to pass him (which they warned me never to do), slow down, or pay him some money…with an overload of conflicting options and an inability to steer, I just stopped…and then my husband’s ATV died again.   Apparently, the replacement machine they went to find before our tour was one that only worked if the gas button was continuously held down.  So if he wanted to speed up, he released the break and if he wanted to slow down he pressed the break mored, but if he was told to come to a complete stop and had to let off the gas, the entire machine stopped again…at least 20 times in our 2 hour ride! [Ed. note: seriously. My accelerator became my break handle – release the break to go, hold it to slow down. Letting go of the gas killed the engine – which happened a couple of times going down a dune. I didn’t want to accelerate downhill, so I’d let up on the gas, which killed my engine but not my momentum, so I had to hit the ignition 5-10 times hoping the engine restarted before I came to a stop in the sand. No one knew but me…over and over and over again.]

All of these trails would have been worth it if we did in fact get to zip around the Pyramids as anticipated…but an hour and a half into our trip we still had yet to view even a glimpse of the promised Ancient Wonders…and then the guide put us right up along the scary military grade fence and pointed off into the hazy horizon…did we see that faint outline there?  A pyramid!  There, in the foggy sandy haze!

And that was it.   The promised photo-op.   And when we were finished, it was straight back down Dead Camel Lane to return the dying ATVs and begin our long day of touring Cairo and around it…

Reality sucks…

After 4 weeks in Europe, our time here is sadly at an end. But hey, I guess it’s time to go back to the Sahara, only this time in Egypt!

• Brussels – I like this town. I challenge anyone to think “Brussels” and then come up with something interesting about it. I knew Belgium was a colonial power, especially in Africa. And apparently there is a pissing boy statue there. But the weather was great, the city is super walkable, and it seems interesting, fun, and the beer was delicious. I’d totally go back to Brussels.
• Amsterdam – Cloudy, windy, at night it rained, the flower market had no flowers, I’m married and in no need of the red light district, and I really didn’t need any pot this trip (despite seeing two dudes roll a joint on a park bench and smelling it everywhere).  So I’m not sure about Amsterdam. I didn’t spend 24 hours here, so maybe in the early summer I’d come back and explore more? But the food was really good. And again, super walkable.
• Berlin – 5 hours in Berlin. Delicious food and beer. The city was kind of…a city. I don’t know. I feel Germany has more to offer that isn’t in Berlin. Like Munich or something.
• Prague – I love Prague. It was cloudy the first day, the second day it was beautiful. Great bridges, the food was really good, so was the beer (a theme of Europe). I’d go back
• Budapest – Rained the whole time, so I didn’t get to explore the “old and crumbly’ stuff like I wanted. But the baths are where it’s at. It’s a dirt cheap city, the food and drink was great, very roamable…I want to go back to Budapest for many more days.
• Vienna – What a cool place! The opera, the old stuff, the entire city center is a pedestrian district. Delicious.
• Venice – This city initially confused the heck out of me. Why is it here, with canals?  Because…islands. It is a legit city built on over 100 close islands. So they just sea-walled all the island boundaries, and the area in between became the canals. And the buildings? They drove wooden pilings into the ground (through the muck and dirt, down to clay — so the wood is underwater and sealed and not rotting) and then put stone on top to form foundations. It’s super cool. And it’s exactly what you think an Italian Renaissance city would look like because it is. Also – no cars, trams, bikes, motor scooters. Just walking. I like this city too, but things shut down by like 9pm, which is weird compared to Rome.  And their buses are boats!
• Verona – Side trip to Verona? Our train pass made it free, so absolutely! Old colosseum they now use for operas was neat. Juliet’s balcony? Meh…lots of people grabbing a statue’s breasts. But the town was neat to walk around. Nice way to spend a day – roaming another Italian city just because.
• Rome for a night? Night tour of the Colosseum down to the floor AND the underground? !!!
• All in all, every city basically had excellent public transport – metros, trams, and buses all working together to get you places. Bike lanes all over, wide sidewalks, lots of public squares to hang out in and roam. I like public squares.

And so far, here has been our journey!

The Boy is getting chatty lately, but since his Opera post was so darn funny, I guess we’ll let him keep talking (typing?)  Here he is with a little “behind the scenes” before Europe ends!

People asked me, a lot, how we were packing for 3 months. Packing for 3 months is hard. Packing when laundry may not be readily available is even more of a challenge. Packing all of this into a backpack, well…my wife was not pleased with this life plan. Here is a breakdown of everything we figured I’d need over 3 months, across 4 continents, ranging from late summer in the Sahara, to fall in Europe, to hot season in tropical Asia, to late fall in China, to summer in Australia:

• 10 pairs of boxers
• 5 pairs of regular socks
• 5 pairs of hiking socks
• 2 pairs of shorts
• 4 pairs of lightweight pants
• 1 pair of jeans
• 1 pair of gym shorts
• 7 t-shirts
• 1 sweatshirt
• 1 smart wool long sleeve zip
• 1 polo shirt
• 2 button down shirts
• 1 heavy duty rain coat

There are, of course, lots of other “miscellaneous” items also – a toiletry bag, sunblock, flashlight, leatherman tool, camelback for the daypack, cameras, laptop, medicine, etc. Most of that stuff fits in my normal backpack, so I’ll just look at the big backpack.

Yes, all of our luggage was to fit in a regular backpack and a hiking backpack. Together, they could be worn on our back and our front, and we could meander as needed hands-free.

How is this done? Through the miracle of packing cubes!

And they all fit nicely into the backpack!

So anyways, that’s how we’re traveling. Backpacks, packing cubes, and everything fits. Slightly annoying, but every single time I see someone dragging a wheely suitcase behind them, over cobblestone, up and down stairs, down streets, looking super not happy about it…I am glad i have my hands free and everything is with me at all times.  My wife…I think she sees the usefulness and convenience of it, but isn’t happy about being a 30 year old backpacker.

We spent almost a full month in Europe.   We did a lot of it “like a local” renting Airbnb apartments and using all the local transport I desperately avoid back home (I had an all day bus pass in more than one city…scary!)  But, it was inevitable that we would cave to some complete touristy acts once in while…and while we’ve admitted to a few on the blog already, here are a few that didn’t make it into a story quite yet…

-Put a lock on the Love Bridge (2.0)…we had to do it, even if Paris will cut it off in a few weeks!

-(Almost) Watched the changing of the guards at Buckingham Palace…we were on the way there and came across the guards and band practicing at the side of the building.  Front row to a near private show and no waiting?  Hello funny hats!

-Watched the cuckoo clock in the Prague square on the hour…but we waited until later in the day so we weren’t quote as bad as this flock!

-Visited the Romeo and Juliet balcony in Verona…although I drew the line at posing for a photo grabbing the breasts on the Juliet statue like the hoards of middle aged females from every tour group crowding the small square.

-Ride a gondola around the Venetian canals…although sadly our gondolier did not serenade us as we went, so my husband took that honor upon himself…and promptly killed the romantic afternoon with his go-to European song choice “Scotty Doesn’t Know”… [Ed. note: This link is NSFW without headphones – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Vyj1C8ogtE – but the song is excellent]

And, in the area of full disclosure, here are a couple cheesy tourist things we didn’t do…but we tried!

-Throw a coin in Trevi Fountain so we would one day return to Rome…sadly, the fountain was closed for restoration.

-Drink champagne at the top of the Eiffel Tower…this one hurts a bit still.  We had our tickets ready and did the pretty Seine River cruise at sunset first…and then the tower was closed due to high winds.  We’re still waiting on that refund…

Our flight out of Europe was in Rome at noon so we decided to spend one final night in Rome near the train station to make our early morning commute a little easier.  When we came in from Venice, we had grand plans:  check in, find lunch, take a bus to the Vatican (you just can’t keep us away!), have an aperitif at our favorite little spot in the square near our past Airbnb, then do the nighttime tour of the Colosseum before taking another bus to our favorite restaurant in Rome for dinner.  Best laid plans and all that: Rome was having a strike for the buses and subways.   At least that is what the front desk of our hotel told us as we checked in.   

Okay, not a big deal, we could still do all this, we would just have to work at it a bit and use those walking legs we’d been building up for the past month to get from Point A to Point B/C/D…but then there was literally no food between our hotel and a long stretch of the city.  And when this girl gets hungry, she gets cranky.   So we’re walking unexpectedly for miles on a hot Roman afternoon unable to find a decent pizza and carafe of wine and ready to call the whole adventure off…when we see the buses running.   Tons of them.   Packed to the brims.   I’m not sure what a transportation strike means in Europe, but clearly we should have investigated it a little further before accepting the American definition.   

At this point, you would expect us to regroup and catch the next bus to continue our original plan…but we’re stubborn.  And also we were a bit wary of these buses running during a “strike” so we decided to continue down the long walking path of Rome mysteriously devoid of any food options.   I’m going to be real with you here because as much as I love my husband and the opportunity to travel non-stop for 3 months, there was no question in my mind that at some point or several along the way I would want to kill him…and today had become one of those days.   When you decide you are going to give someone the silent treatment, it usually works out better if you are able to have someone else nearby who speaks the same language, or even a basic understanding of how a map works so you can find your way back to the hotel and pout.   Nope.   I was stuck, still walking across Rome, hungry and grumpy and definitely not excited to see Vatican City for the 5th time in 6 days in Rome…

Thankfully, we eventually did our errand and got to our aperitif spot and had the promised wine and food…and suddenly we were friends again (which was a good thing because we had 2 more months to go and Europe was the “easy” stop…)  It was time for our nighttime tour of the the Colosseum, which was awesome and so quiet and just beyond words.  But I don’t want to talk about the tour, old and crumbly is my husband’s favorite part of travel, mine is food and wine.  Which brings me to our favorite restaurant in Rome…

On our first last night in Rome, just a week and a half into this crazy adventure, we stumbled into a new square near our apartment and decided to try a cute restaurant there.   The casa vino de blanco was great…and E8 for a liter!  And when my husband ordered a pizza which showed up with bread, cheese, and meat, he asked for a side of sauce.   Little did we know, they will deliver a steaming bowl of heaven.   I kid you not, this marina was nothing short of perfection.   We were spooning it onto both of our dishes and fighting for the last drop.  We had already experienced marina in Rome once or twice but compared to this, it might as well have been a jar of Ragu.   The best part though was when the check came.  A whopping E30.  Yup.   Less than a bottle of wine at any dive near our house and lightyears better.  We were hooked.   

We were also very tired and a tad tipsy, so neither of us thought to remember the name of the joint or the location on the map (remember, we stumbled upon it on accident…)   So when we left the Colosseum at 10pm, we tried to take the subway, but got kicked out since it closed due to the “strike”…so we waited for a bus…and waited…and waited…and when nothing came down the road for 20 minutes (seriously, not a bus, car, tuk tuk, nothing…) we installed the Uber app on our travel phone and debated the risk of Italian surge pricing to get to a location we kind of, sort of remembered this restaurant being at…  Luckily, buses started showing up, so we hopped on one and as we rode tried to figure out a stop to begin our hunt from.  

And we found it!  We found the spot, the maker of the excellent cheap wine and crack sauce.  And we indulged as you can only do in Italy and this time took a picture to remember this place for next time!   So, if you find yourself in Rome, take a stroll over towards Piazza Navona and eat here.   Order your pizza and after it comes out ask for a side of marinara sauce…and enjoy a little bowl of heaven!  

Today, we’re doing something a little different around here.   We went to the Opera in Vienna.   The show was La Cenerentola which is a version of Cinderella.  Yes, it was in Italian, but they had these handy little screens in front of each of us that translated the words into your chosen language…or not.   I followed along and enjoyed the mild changes to the classic fairy tale (step-father instead of step-mother, the fairy godmother was in fact the Prince’s advisor, and she had a missing bracelet of a matching set instead of a shoe)…  My husband shunned the screen and had his own interpretation of the show.   It was so much better than mine.   I made him type it up to share with everyone because I am now convinced the only way to see an opera is without the screen and I highly recommend you all do the same.

With that being said, I did confirm multiple times throughout the show he was aware this was Cinderella and that he knew the Cinderella story…he does.   So it looks like I’ll be on bedtime story duty for our future kids because this would cause some crazy nightmares…

[Ed. Note: This is 100% how I interpreted what was happening on stage as they sang and acted about. It made perfect sense with what I was watching. Written late-night after the opera so it was still fresh in my mind.]

It opened with a girl and her magic brush, which did double duty as a floor brush and a hair brush. It seemed like her sisters really wanted the brush too.  From there, a hobo wandered into her house. “Cinderella” gave him milk in his teacup (presumably for his tea, because my mother-in-law said always put milk in the cup before pouring tea). Anyways it seems the hobo didn’t know this rule, and started drinking the milk first, before any tea was served.

Then, the hobo left, and the dad showed up via a closet, but he was stuck to a wall in a sleeping bag. He got out, and made Cinderella fetch him slippers and a chair. He then sang about how he needed one of his two real daughters to get knocked up by the rich dude leading things around their parts. I’m pretty sure it was because he made some deal with the mob or something, whereas he gets rich as long as one of them gets knocked up. I distinctly remember him rubbing one of his daughter’s belly during this number, indicating the need to get pregnant.

They took off to go find a man (after the whole town helped look at clothes for them), and Cinderella was home alone. A thief dressed like a cop strolled in, and he basically tried to claim the house as his own and steal it. Hijinks ensued as he kept not seeing her, so he thought the house was haunted (remember this haunted/ghost theme). She saw him, he freaked, and decided he’d either have to kill her or something.  I think he might’ve thought about kidnapping her, but she pleaded and promised to dress up for him/etc…long story short, Stockholm Syndrome kicked in and they almost kissed.  Thief/kidnapper left disappointed (but in love?) and then whole town walked in her house again.

Seriously, she needs to work on home security. Next thing you know, you meet the rich dude who is supposed to knock up one of the sisters as a LOUNGE SINGER, and he gets hit on by the two girls as he does an entire lounge act, in Cinderella’s living room, with the whole town there. Eventually after that the hobo shows back up, and becomes like a magician hobo. He promises her some dresses (did she promise something in return?), and scene end.

Next scene, you’re in 1960’s Cuba, communist flags and all, in a…used car dealership? Metaphors abound. I’ll get to that. Anyways, you’ve got the “rich dude”, who owns the shop, his “assistant” (the thief from earlier), townsfolk, and the magician. This is where the language barrier finally broke down and I started figuring it out the real plot. The rich dude is a figurehead, has all the money and trappings of rich, but isn’t /really/ in charge. The magician is.  His assistant is his patsy, dude goes out and gets money/belongings for the rich dude. That’s why he was in Cinderella’s house earlier, trying to get more cash for his boss. Anyways, the magician runs the show, and obviously everyone has made side deals with him that each other don’t know about.

So, you’re in the dealership, the sisters are trying desperately to make their dad proud and get the man, but fail. They don’t know about his side deal. Dude wants none of that. Magician rolls in with ice cream, everyone is happy, Cinderella appears wearing sunglasses, boom, rich dude is all like “hot!”, and everyone gets into a tizzy.  Dad is there and is hammered drunk. He knows his deal is messed up. End first half.

Second half: He is telling his two children goodbye, they failed him, he’s out a lot of money and has to go run into hiding. Next scene, the assistant/thief shows up, and grumbles about his lot in life. He decides he’s gonna kill the rich dude and take the throne.  Next scene, dad comes upon the rich dude, and decides instead of running, rich dude can help him. Dad will kill the magician, who controls rich dude, and in return rich dude will knock up a daughter, so dad is out of the mob’s sights. Simple plan.  Rich dude sees Cinderella, who just wants to marry a nice rich man, that’s all, and he’s all like “she’s hot, OK”.

Here is where things finally get real. We’re back in the house, and all the players are there. Storm hits, lights go out, magician literally controls them all in the darkness with flashlights and lightning and it’s an allegory about the deals they’ve all made with the devil (the magician). People want to kill people now, hatching plans, selling souls, the whole bit. It’s like a ghost/haunted house thing going on. Flash! Next morning, they all realize they need to change their ways. They all resolve to fix things, and then we’re left with the two sisters and the devil. He tells them they haven’t taken a deal yet, they have done nothing wrong, just tried to do as their dad asked, and then he cackles and puts his feet up. I half expected him to have an apple for them. End scene.

Final scene, back at the communist car dealership. Cinderella is in a wedding dress, and the whole song and dance number. Cinderella basically tells her step dad she just wanted to be loved, and rich dude loves her. He’s not a murderer, so he’s super sad and has to go into hiding afterwards. The sisters are sad too because they failed their dad. Magician is scheming up on a balcony, laughing. Assistant is working the crowd, obviously deciding he needs to still take control (is that why the magician/devil was laughing at this scene?) and is probably inciting a mob when the rich dude gets back from his honeymoon. Wedding car takes off, and at the curtain close you see the assistant giving the magic brush from the opening scene to the sisters (obvious sequel setup).

The end.