Country #73: Cairo

The Nile: not just a condition characterized by the ability to disregard reality

Morning at the Pyramids of Giza

The Pyramid of Khufu

Pyramid at the Saqqara necropolis

And inevitable vendor at the Saqqara necropolis

Statue of Ramses II at the Memphis Museum

The Mosque of Mohammad Ali at the Citadel

Abolution fountain within the its courtyard

It is also known as the Alabaster Mosque for its interior

The Sultan Hassan Mosque

Outside the Church of Saint Barbara in the Coptic quarter

Note the Pyramids way in the background.

I think I need to come up with some shorthand way of saying that I had some time off, a chance at cheap airfare and not much else, because there is definitely a pattern to be discerned here. This past Monday, after a nano-second of thought, the last-minute destination chosen was Cairo. Without sufficient time to plan an itinerary, Diana and I put our fate in the hands of a tour operator who was to book our hotel, arrange all our tours and basically handle all the details that we did not have time for. Great idea in theory, it was only when we found ourselves arriving on the streets of Cairo at 3:30 in the morning without yet having received a response from this so-named Naglaa that we saw the massive flaw in our plan. We knew nothing of the layout of the city, so we rolled the dice, got into a cab and began the search for a place to spend the remainder of the night. After a visit to a wildly overpriced Hilton and its business center, we found ourselves booked for a couple of nights at the African Hostel. That took care of our most pressing problem. Mohammad, the night manager, now playing the role of the still yet to be found Naglaa, provided the solution to our next problem, a severe lack of direction. He awoke his friend,Tusin, who within an hour was at the hostel with an itinerary in mind. As is to be expected, he started out by taking us to to see the Pyramids of Giza. I guess when you have the only remaining original World Wonder in your backyard, that bit of planning comes easy. It is here that I should interject that I had already come with the knowledge that Cairo was going to be dirty, busy, hot, full of aggressive salesmen, etc. etc. I had talked to plenty of people who had warned me about their own experiences, yet, somehow I felt that I would be able to look past all this in exchange for seeing the wonder that is ancient Egypt. I was able to sustain that illusion for all of an hour...maybe. Tusin started out the morning by taking us to a stable to rent camels for a sunrise ride through the Giza plateau. The man running the stable had all the well-practiced charm of a used car salesman, without any of the corresponding integrity. He threw some inflated prices our way and we, freshly arrived, sleep deprived and excited, accepted. For the next three hours, we rode around on a pair of the saddest, most run-down animals, through a trash strewn dessert, led around by a cocky charlatan who took every opportunity to hit the poor creatures, while mumbling in broken English. It was so heart-breaking and upsetting, that I spent the next two days hoping for a do-over, as I did not want my only impression of the pyramids to be so tainted with sadness and disgust. This was not to be, but it did prepare me for the remainder of our stay. The scenario that repeatedly played itself out, as if on a loop, was the following: Tusin would take us to a site or museum, tell us what it was called, where to buy the entrance ticket and show us where he would be waiting for us. We would buy our tickets and enter, not really sure what we were looking at. If there was a tour group speaking English, Spanish or German in the vicintity, we would try our best to eavesdrop. Usually there wasn't, so the vendors or more commonly, the tourist police (!!) would try to lead us around, explaining the significance of this or that. Even if we declined their help, they would aggressively demand "backsheesh", or tips. We knew it was bad when even the imam at one of the mosque hit us up for money. The result of this was that we learned to avoid the areas where these folks congregated, thus usually missing one or more of the most significant parts of any given site. For the first time, I sincerely envied the package tour folks who were receiving thorough explanation, while being shielded from the constant harassment. Of course, along with all the hassles, there were some moments when we did enjoy the benefits of being solo travellers. We hired an enthusiastic and vastly knowledgeable guide for a private tour of the Egyptian Museum, who enthralled us with the history of the Pharoahs and answered all our questions in just two short hours. Mohammad took us on a locals-only boat trip along the Nile (after instructing us not to talk to anyone because that would automatically triple the price of everything we wanted), where I danced along with a group of giggling Muslim girls. People of all ages would help us cross the chaos that is a Cairo street, laughing all the way and not demanding backsheesh (one man suggested that, while crossing, we close our eyes and talk to Allah). It certainly was not all bad. In the most hostile of enviroments, the pyramids still manage to impress, so I can't, in good conscience, write Cairo off as a bad experience, not to be recommended, yet now having done it, I do not know that I would return. It felt like even the infrastructure that alledgedly was there was our benefit, the tourist police, was trying to take advantage of us. I recognize their salaries are probably quite low, they have families to feed, all of that... yet creating an uncomfortable situation for those you are meant to serve, is only bound to backfire. It is possible that after further reflection, I will look back on Cairo more fondly, at which time I may revisit the topic, but for now, I can honestly say that I am in no hurry to return.