EGYPT – CAIRO & GIZA

January 17-31, 2023

Landing in Cairo I paid my $25 US to get my tourist visa and breezed through immigration. My European SIM did not work. There were 3 phone providers conveniently located in the baggage claim area. $15 had me set up with a new card. The guesthouse driver was waiting for me outside. Off we went down the six-lane freeway; but in typical Egyptian fashion, there were 9 lanes of cars darting in and out like fish looking for an empty spot. Some of the streets and freeways had NO lines. Every vehicle has numerous dents and scratches.

My AirBnB 2-bedroom apartment (Nazlet El-Semman) was a mere 5-minute walk from the entrance to the pyramids for $33/night. I could see two of the pyramids from the bedroom window. Sweet!

The host said his great-grandfather had built the house/apartment with bricks he had taken from the pyramids. Cool! However, the entire village was destined to be demolished to make room for high-end hotels. Many of the buildings were already abandoned, some half torn down.

After dropping my bags the owner and his wife – a lovely Polish woman – took me on a walkabout to show me around. They showed me where the grocery store was

and a local kebab shop.

The apartment was satisfactory for my needs.

It had a 3 burner hot plate,

a big bathroom and a comfortable bed. However, it would not even rate a one-star by Canadian standards. By the standards of the area, it was a palace. The host and his wife were right downstairs and they called me every day to see if I was alright or if I needed anything. He told me that if I had any problems or got lost just let people know that I was staying at Hosny’s place. In short order, everyone knew Hosny had a foreign guest and I was treated with kindness everywhere I went. He was either well-known and respected or was the local Mafia. LOL

The local’s kindness did not prevent them from trying to hustle me though. “Come look in my shop. Good price.” I could not walk 20 steps without someone offering a taxi, a tuktuk, buggy ride or camel. 300 pounds. No, thank you. OK, 200 pounds. No, thank you. Alright, alright 100 pounds, final offer. No, thank you. Ok, 50 pounds. Lady, 50 pounds! Good price! NO – THANK YOU.

Every morning I was awakened by the 4:00 am Muslim call to prayer – the minaret was next door, with the loudspeaker 20 feet from my bedroom window.

There was no denying I was in the old part of town. I shared the dirt road with horses, horse-drawn carriages,

camels and their riders on the way to work at the pyramids,

donkey carts delivering everything from animal fodder to propane tanks.

The propane man would use a metal wrench to tap a small tune on the tanks to announce his arrival. Every now and then a tuktuk would drive slowly through the village blaring the announcement of a death over his loudspeaker. Looking closer, the road was not dirt. It was paved, but covered in manure asphalt.

There were scores of stray dogs and cats. The hostess told me to close the shutter doors before I went out otherwise the cats would get in. I could hear them screeching and yowling at night.

There is garbage everywhere, not just in this village but everywhere! I often saw someone eating a bag of chips and just tossing the bag when they finished. It didn’t matter that a garbage can was a step away. They are still hooked on plastic bags, although not as bad as it was 15 years ago. Back then it was hard to get a good picture of the pyramids due to the Egyptian national bird – a plastic bag floating on the breeze. They were always surprised when I declined a plastic bag for my items. Often the item fit easily into my purse. I would mention that in Canada plastic bags were illegal. “Such a good idea. I wish it were like that here. Would you like a bag?” Geez!!

There was a small shop just outside my guesthouse, next to the tuktuk repair shop. The tuktuk shop was open late into the night when the drivers were not busy. That being said, the stores were open from 9:00 am – 11:00 pm. The cool evenings were a bustle of noise and activity.

Although the shop next door was convenient, I opted to go to the bigger grocery store (with fixed prices) across Al Haram road – a VERY busy street that led to the Pyramids ticket office. Crossing the street is an art. There are no lights anywhere. Any street lights I saw did not work. The street had tour buses, cars, minibuses, motorcycles, horse carts, donkey carts, horse and rider, camel and rider. Even though it was a busy enough street with a meridian between the different directions of traffic, that did not stop the motorcycles, horses and camels from going against the flow. I stepped back to avoid an oncoming van and nearly got clipped by a motorcycle coming from the opposite direction on the wrong side of the street. Some kindly locals helped me cross. Within a few days, I was dodging traffic like a local.

The grocer soon remembered me as well as the fruit man. He would give me a free sample of an orange, apple, or banana. Mangoes were reaching the end of the season, and I bought one every day until he said they were done. Then I switched to strawberries. A sack full of fruit cost around $3-4 CDN.

There was a lady on the corner from the guesthouse who sold veggies from a stoop. Every day I would buy some cucumbers, carrots, peas, beans, onions or potatoes. She spoke no English but the man across the way did. He would translate for her and tell me the cost. Even with him jacking up the price, a sack full of veggies cost less than a dollar. Several times after I paid her she would slip some money back to me the second the man’s back turned. I would bring my empty plastic bags for her to bag produce.

She lived in a small house next door. She motioned for me to go with her to her place one day. She wanted to sell me some honey and pickles. I didn’t want or need either. I was rather shocked to see chickens running around her living room. When I was leaving, I told her via charades that I was leaving. As she gave me a hug I slipped a 100 Egyptian pound note into her hand. The man across the way eyed us suspiciously. She kept the bill hidden in her hand as she waved goodbye.

A nearby shop also sold chickens. I sometimes saw someone pointing to a chicken, the vendor grabbing it and then skillfully slicing its neck in one slick motion as he turned to the butcher block behind him. When I walked by in the morning the cage was full of pullets, in the evening he was rinsing the blood off the floor. Well, at least you know it is fresh!

The egg shop was further down, next to the man with the sewing machine. He patched a rip in my pants for $2.

Two butcher shops down my road sold only camel meat. Both had been in business for 200 years.

The Egyptians don’t eat sliced bread like we do in Canada. They eat chapati or pita, however, you want to call it. There were little vendors all over the place selling them on the street. I came across a small factory that was spitting them out by the dozen. I stopped to watch. The owner invited me inside to see how it is all done. There were trays upon trays of balls of dough that were brought over to a man who expertly slapped them flat and placed them on a rotating rack. The rack went through the baking machine and came out the other side all toasted and plump. Someone else took them from the oven carousel and placed them on trays to cool. They were flying out the door almost as fast as they were made. There was a lineup by the door ready for the fresh bread.

Grocery stores only sell groceries and some cleaning supplies. Basically, if it goes in your mouth or to clean the kitchen it is in the grocery store. Fruit stands only sell fruit. The veggie vendor only had veggies. However, there is a small market every few meters selling a small assortment of basic items – water, snacks, eggs, soap, and canned goods. However, there are no prices marked on anything. As soon as they see a tourist they jack the prices up. One place charged me 750 Egyptian and another charged me 250 for the same items ($33 vs $11) It is still cheap, but frustrating. In Canada, I would have paid over $50 for the same things, but a $22 difference adds up when travelling for an extended period. Overall, I found that prices are jacked up 3 or 4 times for tourists. Do not feel bad about saying NO and walking away. For them, it is just business, nothing personal. The next 20 tour bus people will happily think they are getting a deal, even at the jacked price.

Pharmacies only sell drugs, first aid items and some beauty products. Knowing that a lot of pharmacies will sell prescription drugs without a prescription, as long as you know what to ask for, I asked about Synthroid which I need to take a tablet every day for my thyroid. The bottle, in exactly the same packaging, cost me less than the dispensing fee in Canada.

Now I was curious about other costs. I went into a shop that sold eyeglasses. I showed the girl my eye prescription and asked for a price. She asked which frame I wanted because it was included in her quote. I bought a new pair of glasses for $175. The frame alone would cost more in Canada. I have a complicated prescription which generally costs $700 or more – just for the lenses! I now sport new glasses, at a fraction of the price.

There were police all over the place. The ones on the corner from the guesthouse, near the pyramids gate, always had a riot van and a paddy wagon, often with people inside.

There were lots of traffic police. I only ever saw one help a little girl cross the street. He stopped a van, but the car behind the van went zipping around and still nearly clipped both the cop and the kid. For the most part, l saw them on their cell phones or sleeping in the police car.

There didn’t seem to be any kids that went to school. When I asked someone they said it was a school holiday. Bullshit! The host told me that people cannot afford to send their kids to school. They start begging on the street from the time they can walk. I am sure they learn how to say “money” before they learn to say “mommy”.

Those who do not go to school have to serve in the military for three years. Those with a high school education, two years. Those with a University degree, only one year. All this explains why the Egyptian army has had their asses kicked by the Israelis time and again. Sorry to say, but not the brightest group of people defend the country.

There was a dirt soccer field in the shadow of the pyramids where kids played in bare feet.

On the edge of the field, a breakfast kiosk sold falafels every morning. People gathered around drinking coffee, eating and gossiping. I was reminded of the breakfast crowd at Starbucks.

Further down I saw a guy on a camel waiting for his meal outside of a small restaurant. Egyptian drive-thru.

Next to the soccer field were stalls of fresh vegetation for the camels, donkeys and horses. A cart would come by every day to deliver. Every morning I would see the beasts being prepped for their day’s activities. Every evening I would see the animals being fed again, and disrobed of their saddles and harnesses.

It was weird to see the great pyramids looming in the background of a busy modern street.

As I walked to the pyramids, I had breakfast in a nice restaurant. The breakfast itself was only $3.50 – as listed in the menu – but two coffees and one karkade increased the price to $12.50. Lesson learned. ALWAYS ask the price before ordering. I was to relearn this lesson many times in many different scenarios.

I went to the pyramids and hired a camel to take me to the panorama viewpoint.

From this angle, I could see all six pyramids.

After the camel driver dropped me off I went into two of the pyramid tombs, Khafre and Khufu. The passageways in both are narrow and low. I had to walk hunched most of the way. Anyone with a backpack was nearly on their hands and knees. The passage is quite steep, too. Going up was not easy, but coming down was worse.

A guide kept following me and waiting for me outside each pyramid. He said a tomb for one of the queens was found a year ago. He led me through what looked like piles of rubble until we came to the tomb. While it was interesting, it was rather a turn-off when the guard wanted a tip for allowing me inside, despite the fact that my general ticket covered this tomb as well. Then the guide wanted a tip for showing me where it was located. Fair enough, I never would have found it on my own, but another example of a lifelong upbringing of asking for money.

Exiting the site I stopped to admire the Sphinx. I don’t know why but I am always amazed that it has a tail.

I took a car into Cairo to go to the Egyptian Museum. Several tour buses had just pulled up. I hurried to the top floor and King Tut’s chamber before the crowds. The guard kept shouting NO PHOTOS every time someone even moved their phone or camera. I remembered the drill from my last visit. I took out my phone and smiled. He motioned me to a small alcove – with a very good view of the sarcophagus – and walked away. He came back a moment later and whispered OK? I slipped a 100 Egyptian bill into his hand and thanked him. By then the crowds were starting to pour in. I wanted a picture of the golden mask but knew I could not get it with so many people. I toured the rest of the museum then a couple hours later went back to Tut’s chamber. The tour buses had gone, taking the hoards of people with them. However, now there was a police officer standing next to the guard. Dammit! I looked through the chamber. A minute later the policeman left. Immediately, the guard casually walked past me and whispered “Quickly. Now.” I took my picture and thanked him. Amazing how far a smile and little backsheesh will go.

The rest of the museum is full of various sarcophagus, varying from the plain to the extravagant. The fine detailing on the massive granite ones is unbelievable.

There are lots of alabaster canopic jars – where the internal organs are stored beside the mummy.

There were some mummies but the majority had been moved to the new National Museum of Egyptian Civilization (I didn’t go there). The entire exhibition blows your mind! Everything is around 5000 years old. How did they do all this so long ago? Our modern technology is shameful in comparison.

I wanted to go to Luxor in a few days so I went to the train station hoping to buy a ticket. I had tried to buy one online, but the website was so slow it kept timing out before I could finalize the transaction. I was directed to a different part of the station for foreigners. I waited patiently while a group of men crammed around the ticket agent. They seemed Egyptian and I wondered why they were in this office. Another thing I find amusing in Egypt, no matter what is going on, there is always a crowd, all craning their necks like trying to catch a glimpse of a murder scene. After waiting about 15 minutes, and noting they did not walk away with a ticket, I stepped forward and was told I needed a different wicket. The other wicket had a man pulling out stacks and stacks of money which they counted and recounted. It was like watching a weird drug transaction. I waited a half hour and finally left. There did not seem to be an end to this transaction. The lobby of the station was very nice.

I ended up buying a GoBus ticket to Luxor. It was a 12-hour night bus but only cost $20. The seats were wider than an airplane and reclined far back. I slept like a baby. In Luxor, I met a couple who did arrive by train. They said it was disgustingly dirty, had uncomfortable seats and was expensive. Apparently, the Egyptian government recently tripled the cost of train travel for foreigners. Good thing I had trouble booking the train.

Another day I used my usual driver to take me to Salah El Din (Saladin) citadel.

It was built as a military fortress on a very high hill by Saladin in 1176-1183. It was the seat of Government in Egypt and the residence of its rulers for nearly 700 years. I went into the ancient Al-Nasir Muhammad mosque. Al-Nasir Muhammad was sultan three times between 1293 and 1341. He is the one who brought water from the Nile via an aqueduct.

I carried on to the Military Museum (Muhammad Ali’s former Haram Palace) across a beautiful tiled courtyard that had many bronze statues to various leaders. On one side of the courtyard was a display of tanks and anti-aircraft guns.

The museum itself had many many busts of various heroes. Most of the write-ups were in Arabic, so not very useful. What was written in English would say the name of the hero and under which ruler he served. Again, not very useful unless you know centuries of Egyptian history down to the year. That being said, a lot of the displays spoke for themselves.

I went to a lookout terrace with a nice view of the city.

As I was leaving I spotted some men in bright hoop skirts. I went over and asked if they were whirling dervish. “Yes, we have a performance in 15 minutes.” I had my picture taken with them and I waited. How these men can whirl continuously for 15-20 minutes without throwing up or falling down in a dizzy heap is a wonder. One recognized me in the crowd and waved to me as he danced.

From there I went to the mosque of Muhammad Ali. It was built in 1828 and 1848. He was appointed by the Ottoman sultan in 1805 to restore order after the French occupation of Egypt. However, he orchestrated a spectacular coup in 1811 when he invited all the Mamluk (non-Arab) leaders to a banquet in the Citadel. As they were leaving he had his gunmen open fire and killed them all.

I wandered through the courtyard

and then into the mosque itself. I had to put boot covers on before I entered. The inside had high domed ceilings covered in gold floral designs, artistry and calligraphy.

The columns were alabaster. It was beautiful. I exited through the side door and made my way to the exit.

Another day I went to Khan Al-Khalili bazaar. It is a market (souq) that has been in existence since the 14^th century. It was absolutely medieval and I loved it!! I went down a side alley and through the spice part of the souq.

Men were loading heavy sacks on their shoulders and delivering them to various vendors on the main street.

There the vendors had the sacks beautifully displayed.

A man with a heaping tray of pita was maneuvering through the street.

I stopped for a karkade. There, an old man, who looked like a permanent fixture, was smoking shisha.

There were dozens of cats.

The falafel vendor had a bustling business on the corner.

I needed to go to the toilet. It was also medieval.

I absolutely LOVE experiencing this kind of culture. Yes, it has been altered to cater to tourists, but if you leave the main streets, you literally step back in time. I’m sure if Jesus Christ showed up, he could find his father’s carpentry shop, still in operation.

There was a shop called October 9 that I walked by on a regular basis. One day my curiosity got the better of me and I stopped in. It was a leather shop, but not just your ordinary leather jackets and purses. It had crocodile and snake skin purses and – just skins. A crocodile hide sold for $111. A male lion skin sold for $1100. It was very sad, considering I had just come back from a safari and saw these same animals alive.

My time in Cairo had come to an end. I caught the bus to Luxor.