Izzat pulled up in front of a glorious edifice right next to the Mediterranean Sea and set our bags on the sidewalk. A bellman appeared and ushered us through a revolving door and the obligatory security equipment. My mind registered old style elegance in the lobby, but I’d had a long day and was just ready for a decent room.
After the usual front desk rigmarole they pointed us to one of those antique elevators encased in black rod iron. We rode it to our floor and WOW! It wasn’t the Fairmont, but to my eyes it was even better. This was elegance the way it used to be and for my money, I like it that way. Gorgeous furniture, elaborate urns, ubiquitous crystal chandeliers and a floor that only creaked a little bit. As we strolled down the thick elegantly patterned carpet we were impressed with the way the magnificent door to each room was recessed to create a small alcove.
Then we entered our room. It was small, but so lovely that I didn’t even care. Of course my first stop was the bathroom and there I found some comic relief. In the mode of luxury hotels everywhere, the ends of the toilet paper had been folded into a point, but this one was a little off balance. It was just what I needed.
Moving In
Since we’d be in Alex for several days, I went through the motions of unpacking what we’d need in the way of clothes and toiletries. As I got us organized for the next few days, Bill was inspecting the room. He discovered the balcony which overlooked a park and the sea. He even found the ice bucket and then went on an expedition to locate the ice machine.
In my unpacking, I’d found the bottle of Bourbon my nephew had bestowed upon me and when Bill went for the ice, he also found a can of Coke Zero. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed a drink quite so much!
The Breakfast Buffet
After a good night’s sleep I was up early and raring to get out to the museum. The Cecil didn’t have a gym, but we’d be doing a lot of walking, so I wasn’t too worried about it.
Once we were ready to attack the day, we headed downstairs to breakfast. Yes, it was another buffet, but the space designated for the morning repast was a delight. Black and white marble floors, large bouquets of fresh lilies, huge windows, antique iron chairs and marble topped tables. What was there not to like?
I was sick to death of breakfast buffets, but the space was so pleasant that I was able to enjoy the atmosphere. I was also very excited about the day ahead. The days of leisure were over and we were going to start in on my long list of museums. I could not wait! Come back next week and join us on our way to the Library of Alexandria.
After our amazing day on the Red Sea, it was nap time – only instead of napping, I washed my hair. I had borrowed a towel from the room for our boat trip and the room steward (no maids) penalized me for it. We’d started the stay with an armload of fluffy towels, but when I got back from the day on the yacht, the towel nazi had only left me one bath towel to accompany the one (I guess) he thought I was trying to steal. It was funny how they all spoke such great English until that very moment. Suddenly, we couldn’t communicate at all. It was a small thing, but it left a distinctly bad taste in my mouth.
Out for the Evening
Niece Maggie and her family invited us out for dinner. They wanted to show us the hotel they’d stayed at during their honeymoon. They hadn’t booked an over-the-top suite, like Bassem and Mariam were enjoying at the Baron Resort, but Maggie and Shady wanted us to share their memories. Except for some security rigmarole going in and out of the hotels we really hadn’t had to deal with much in the way of security in Sharm. That changed on this evening.
They let us into the hotel with relative ease, but then we wanted to go take a look at the pools – yes I said pools, as in plural. For some reason this was a problem. Maybe they thought we were going to try to swim. Maybe they thought we were trying to gain access to guestrooms. I don’t know, but they certainly didn’t want us to visit the pool. Bill and I weren’t all that worried about it. A hotel pool is a hotel pool – am I right?
However, it was obvious Maggie and Shady were really disappointed, so Mr. Bill went into action. He strolled over to the desk and gave them a piece of his mind. He told them the honeymoon story. He told them we were Americans (as if that wasn’t obvious). Then he resorted to pressure. He pointed out that we were guests at their sister hotel just down the street. He mentioned Ayman’s name. He told them I was a travel blogger. I’m not sure what changed their mind, but Bill had to turn his room key or something like that over to them while we were poolside.
I will admit the pools were beautiful. Deep navy tile with white trim. We’re still not sure exactly what they were trying to protect when they wanted to prevent our visit. We had some dinner, which was delicious, but then they gave us the run around on paying the tab. We had to go to the front desk to pay and then the tip couldn’t be charged on the card. Weird.
A Real Treat
Next Niece Mirette came to take us to the Sharm Cathedral. An exterior view is above, but it does nothing to prepare you for the gorgeous interior. I could wax eloquent about all the details, but I will let the cathedral speak for itself. As amazing as the visit was from an architectural and religious standpoint, what was most apparent to me was the love the people of the cathedral have for my niece. They opened up late in the evening just so they could show us. Everyone onsite knew my niece. They were obviously and ostentatiously fond of her. I was so proud of her for this. Enjoy the beautiful cathedral, then come back next week for our final day in Sharm.
Day Two in Sharm el Sheik was pool day, but we didn’t just wander out to the pool at the Marriott. It was a nice pool with a waterfall and a swim-up bar, but something even better was waiting for us. The honeymooners had invited us to their suite at The Baron Resort and it had its own pool. The suite, not the resort.
Meet in the Lobby
Eleven thirty was the call time for Day Two. I was up plenty early and hit the gym for an hour on their stationary bike. Bill joined me for the usual breakfast buffet, which took a little longer than I realized it would. For once I was not ready at the appointed time and Mr. Bill showed signs of anxiety. I sent him to the lobby and told him to make sure no one left without me. HA! I’ve been spending time around these guys for a long time. There was no way they were going to be ready to leave at the appointed time. I mean really! Did you read about the wedding reception? I was in the lobby within five minutes of Bill’s frustrated departure from our room – just in time for an hour of waiting for our transportation to show up. It was a good hour though. I inspected the boat someone bought for my tiny grand-nephew at the mall the evening before. I had some lovely time to visit with my older grand-nephews who caught me up with their high-school/college-focused lives. I also had a great conversation with my niece Maggie. So, I didn’t sweat the wait.
The Baron Hotel
When our vehicle arrived, we piled in and headed back in the direction of the airport. Taking a turn, we went down a long drive with desert on both sides and eventually entered an area under development. I say that loosely. It looked as if someone had started a luxury condo/townhouse complex at some point and then changed their mind. As we drove along seeing building after building after building of abandoned construction I thought of the abandoned corniche (boardwalk) and wished better for Egypt and Sharm el Sheik. We passed so many empty buildings in the almost derelict construction sites that I became concerned we weren’t headed in the right direction, but finally The Baron was in sight.
As soon as we drove up we knew it had been worth the drive. We followed our newlywed groom up the elevator and through the halls to what seemed like the back of beyond. He opened the double doors on an amazing suite and then stood back to get our reaction. There wasn’t one for awhile, because we were stunned! And so let the fun begin!
It was a marvelous day made a little extra special by the taste of luxury – but the day wasn’t over! Ayman had scheduled a Bedouin Dinner for our evening activity. Come back next week and we’ll head out into the desert.
The Egyptians didn’t wake up one morning and have the perfect formula for pyramid building. They had hundreds of years of practice before the elegant examples at Giza were built. (There’s a nick in the Ancient Alien theory!) At Dashour we saw pyramids of various shapes and sizes. Their most successful attempts led them to give step pyramids a try and the best example of these Step Pyramids is up the road a bit from Dashour and down the road a bit from Giza at Saqqara.
Getting There
When we departed Dashour, our military friends didn’t seem quite so intimidating. They barely glanced at us as we passed by. Izzat got back on the main road, the one with the dirty canals in the middle, and headed back north. Zuzu continued to regale us with the history lesson and before long we were at another military installation. This one was not quite as intimidating, but to a certain extent a little more scary. The soldiers at Saqqara were a little less serious, but also a lot more careless. They all carried guns and seemed to be having several different conversations, and in each the guns were being casually waved about as if they were extensions of the gesticulating soldiers’ arms. I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if someone’s finger slipped a bit.
If you don’t count the threat of wayward bullets, the site seems more tourist-friendly. In Dashour everything was a street and a parking lot because it was just wide open spaces for as far as you could see. At Saqqara, there were actual gravel-covered parking lots and roads that looked regularly traveled.
The Museum
Another tourist- friendly feature was a small museum. There’s actually a lovely promenade from the parking lot to the museum that looks as if it could accommodate a gift shop, a concession stand and perhaps even a small cafe, but everything was closed down tight and no signs indicated that any of it had ever been anything. I wondered if there had been more there once or whether they were presently developing it, but Zuzu did not provide that kind of information. He looked at me as if I’d suddenly begun to speak a language he didn’t understand and shrugged his shoulders.
We grabbed a few pictures and headed inside. This had to be a recent development, because the interior looked like something you might see in other countries. It was clean and neat. The items were advantageously displayed in glass cases and lo and behold, there were placards there to identify the pieces and give a little history. Pictures were not allowed or I would be glad to show you the lovely facility. The museum was not large, but I liked it very much.
Wandering the Ruins
Saqqara is a significant archaeological site. They have found a number of ruins dating to a variety of periods. Some have been restored. Some look as if they were once available for viewing, but have been closed up. Some areas are currently under renovation. Even though the ruins come from different eras they are all very close together. You can see everything without having to walk very far.
I’d say of the three Pyramid sites, Saqqara was my favorite – not more important than Giza, but more enjoyable. Each is worth a visit. If you can convince your guide to do them in chronological order, then kudos to you. I think that would be an interesting progression, but that guide would not be Zuzu. He’s going to do Giza first, no matter what.
A Little Entertainment
As if to prove they’d gotten the tourist thing figured out a Saqqara, they actually had a cultural performance! A toupe of dancers, both male and female, performed energetic renditions of folk dances, brandishing swords, swaying their hips and stomping their feet. The colors were a little too Hollywood to be traditional, but I appreciated the effort.
The drive back to the Mena house was daunting. It was five o’clock traffic Egyptian style. I was appreciating Izzat more and more. Back at the hotel we did a little exploration, wandering around at will. We’d been on the official tour and they encouraged us to wander the hotel – so we did. We also had another fantastic meal, this time at the Khan-il-Khalili restaurant which specialized in Egyptian cuisine. Back at the room I packed up. In the morning Izzat would be there fairly early to take us to the airport for the next phase of our adventure.
I’m worried about Egypt. Tourism is their primary industry, but they aren’t exactly working hard to promote it. Bill and I shook our heads in disbelief during most of the trip. It’s almost as if they don’t want tourists. The first thing I’d like to do is just give everything a good cleaning and add some trashcans. Egyptians themselves are delightful and there are wonderful things to see, but you have to be serious about wanting to visit and you will encounter obstacles. Let me explain.
Do You Know the Way to Dashour?
The Bent Pyramid at Dashour
Were Giza, Dashour and Saqqara in the US, they’d be owned by the National Park Service. All three complexes would be surrounded by federal lands and you’d get a tour map that helped you navigate your way from one site to another. All along the tour route, you’d see lovely hotels, a wide variety of restaurants and other attractions like miniature golf and water slides. Each site would have interpretive signs, museums, exhibits and gift shops. That’s not the way it goes in Egypt. Where is UNESCO, by the way!
Nothing about the Giza site suggests that just a short drive away are two more fantastic historical sites. You’re just supposed to know. There’s not a single sign that points the way. You head off down the road and wander along the side of a filthy canal. Along most of the way, both sides of the road has development, but it’s residences, not fast food and hotels. If you didn’t have a guide, I guarantee you wouldn’t find it.
While there, I discovered that you could ride horses between the sites. You can google “pyramid horse tours” and find all kinds of vendors, but since I didn’t know about the tours, I didn’t know to research it. You are now better informed than I was.
We eventually turned off the main road, but I didn’t see anything that said, “This way to Dashour.” A rutted goat path took us to a military installation. I don’t know any better way to describe it – white painted buildings, with guys in uniform carrying guns. This was not the appropriate welcoming committee for your average American tourist.
I do love one thing about Egyptians – their creativity. Wherever we went were folks who set up shop and went about their business without the accouterments Americans would demand.
If neighbors want to get together and smoke sheesha, why let the absence of a park stop you. Gather your chairs in the street and pass the hookah. The cars will figure out a way to get around you.
Want to have a souvenir shop? Then find a piece of pavement and start selling. You can hang wire between signs to display your wares or use a cardboard crate.
Need an office. Find a table and chair – any table and chair.
The guy in charge at the military installation had followed the examples above – right by the side of the goat path. Both pieces of furniture looked like they’d been built in the 50’s, but for completely different purposes. Sitting on the table was the ubiquitous glass for tea. Who needs anything else?
Nothing!
Worth It for Me
It’s no wonder that our nephew couldn’t understand why we wanted to go to Dashour. With the exception of a few pyramids in serious disrepair there is nothing there. I mean nothing!
But those few pyramids were worth the trip for me. While Zuzu hadn’t found much new ground to cover with me at Giza, he was invaluable at Dashour.
Obviously, the Bent Pyramid is bent, but hearing why and how it got that way, as I stood below it, was fascinating. We climbed up another crumbling pyramid to see the shaft built down into it, where the pharaoh’s body would have been carried and imagined the day of the funeral. How did they get him down all those steps? Another pyramid was tall and skinny, almost like a Christmas tree. How did these configurations develop into what we saw at the Giza Plateau?
I’d read right before I left for Egypt that they’d just found a new pyramid at Dashour – but where? And why didn’t they offer to show it to me for $20 more. I would have gladly coughed up the Jackson.
The whole thing begs for development. In our heads we laid out the informational signage, chose refreshment stands, picked out costumes for the guides and decided where the museum and shop should be. The Egyptians need tourists to spend more days in their country and with just a few bare necessities and a little signage, people would flock to see these wonders, but as it stands, Bill and I were the lone tourists. We would never have found it on our own and even if we would have, I doubt we’re brave enough to confront the military authorities guarding it. What a shame!
But our Pyramid tour was not over. On to Saqqara. Join us next week.
I was predisposed to love the Mena House. I’d been hearing about it for years and it sounded like my kind of place. It had historical significance and it was a luxury hotel Bill’s place of birth would make affordable. Let me tell you about it.
Arriving in Style
I will admit there is something posh about being delivered to your hotel by a private driver and car. We pulled up to the security gate to be sniffed by dogs, checked by metal detectors and generally gone over with a fine tooth comb, but our driver handled it all while Bill and I marveled at the Pyramids looming over us. I thought we’d have a view of them. I didn’t realize we’d be next door.
The lobby was opulent and we were treated like dignitaries. Being treated like dignitaries takes a little longer than just being tourists, but it was kind of fun. We were whisked to our room on a golf cart by a servile employee of the hotel and escorted around our new digs as if they rooms of the old palace, instead of the very comfortable modern room we’d reserved.
A Delicious Meal
Our next stop was lunch. We wandered across the grounds and found a nice patio restaurant which served food all day long. The prices were reasonable, the service was attentive and the food was amazing. The travel gods were shining on us.
A Free Historical Tour
As we lazed about enjoying the view our nephew Steven and his friend John arrived. They’d fallen for the 8:30 sight-seeing tour I’d rejected. While they regretted waking up early, they were very happy with their day. We decided to meet up again soon and see the free historical tour of the hotel I’d seen advertised in the lobby. The parade of celebrities who have stayed at the Mena House is pretty interesting, but not anything compared to the amount of history that has occurred since it was built in the 1800’s as a lodge for royalty.
The Rest of the Stay
The only problem we had with our stay at the Mena House is that it was too short. We loved hanging out in our room and enjoying the patio with the great view of the pyramids. We loved wandering around the hotel and grounds, photographing all the beauty both natural and man-planned. The service was amazing. The food was great – whether we were enjoying the free breakfast buffet, having lunch with a view or enjoying a Middle Eastern feast at the Khan il Khalili restaurant (named after the famous Cairo bazaar).
I have a fantasy of returning to Giza some day to see the wonderful museum being built to replace the Cairo Museum and the Mena House would be the perfect place to stay – but I doubt I could ever get Mr. Bill back to Egypt. The place he has fond memories of growing up in doesn’t exist anymore.
If you’re still hungry for more about the Mena House, watch this video. If you want to know about visiting the Pyramids, then come back next week.
TRAVEL THERE: DON’T LET GIZA BE YOUR ONLY PYRAMID EXPERIENCE
If you go to Egypt, you’ve got to see the Pyramids, but don’t stay in some Cairo hotel and take a day trip to the Giza Plateau. Get out of the city and stay at the Mena House. Someday, hopefully, they’ll finish the new museum that is supposed to replace the antiquated Cairo Museum and doing it this way will make even more sense. But even if they never finish the museum (a distinct possibility given the tomorrow/bokrah mentality) you don’t want to be just another tourist. There’s more to the Pyramids than you see at Giza.
Dusk at the Pyramids
A Tourist Trap to Avoid
Before I go into what you should see, let me steer you away from the Light and Sound Show. I had been warned, but back in 1996, the Luxor Temple Sound and Light Show was one of the highlights of my trip. The stunning display was interesting and entertaining. Chances are that in 1996 the Pyramid Sound & Light Show was pretty amazing, too, but it’s not anymore.
There’s a huge outdoor theater which would seat hundreds of people, suggesting the show was once a really popular attraction, but I’d be surprised if there were 50 people at the performance we attended. What’s more, the parking lot and entry were right next to a spot used as a toilet by the local camel population. You need to be careful where you step and the smell will bowl you over.
I had threatened to enjoy the performance from my balcony at the Mena House, but wasn’t sure if I could see it from there. It really doesn’t matter whether I could see it or not. The balcony would have been a better choice.
The obligatory Sphinx and Pyramid picture
You Will Go to Giza First – and You WILL Like It or ELSE
Egyptians don’t see their country the way we do. I had great difficulty convincing my nephew that I really did want him to schedule our guide to visit Dashour and Saquara. Having already seen Giza, I really didn’t want to waste my time there, but skipping it altogether was not to be allowed. What’s more my excellent guide, Zuzu insisted we had to start the day there.
My nephew and his friend had toured with Zuzu the day before and warned us that he was a little, shall we say, stubborn. With Steven and John, the main problem was that he was going to give them all the information they paid for whether they wanted it or not. I didn’t see that being a problem for me. I challenge any guide to tell me more than I wanted to know about what I’m seeing. However, Zuzu was a little stubborn in other ways, too.
When we got in the car to begin our day, I explained how I had already been to Giza before and I preferred to start at Dashour. Zuzu said we would get to Dashour, but we’d start at Giza. I tried several approaches to convince him I was the customer and he should do it my way, but whatever tack I used, he wasn’t going for it. I didn’t want to be that Ugly American, so content in the knowledge we would get to all three pyramid locations, I decided to sit back and enjoy the tour.
Solar Boat Shoes
The Solar Boat Museum
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go to the Giza Plateau at all, because my previous unorthodox tour had not included the Solar Boat Museum and I wanted to see it. I just didn’t want to waste time stomping around the Pyramids and the Sphinx, if it meant I’d miss out on Dashour and Saqqara.
Well, we did stomp around the Pyramids and the Sphinx. And guess what, they looked just like they did last time we were there. Granted Zuzu provided more background information than I got from Ahab’s guides, but after a lifetime of watching shows about Egyptian archaeology, Zuzu didn’t have much to add that I hadn’t already learned from Zahi Hawass and Giorgio A. Tsoukalos .
The Solar Boat Museum is fascinating, but they make you wear these awful shoe covers and pictures are not allowed. The boat was buried in the sand somewhere around 2500 BC. It had been disassembled before burial and the pieces were intact when it was found in 1954. It was painstakingly reconstructed over a number of years and then in 1985, the Egyptians built the museum to show off the treasure. Don’t miss it if you visit the Pyramids.
My Giza duties fulfilled, Zuzu let Izzat take us to Dashour. Come back next week and enjoy that part of our day. In the meantime, here’s a video of our visit to the Pyramids.
So far, Bassem and Miriam’s wedding day has been pretty mundane, if you don’t count the machine guns on our bus. Once the church doors opened, everything changed. We were at a Coptic Wedding.
Saint Mark Coptic Church
When the huge doors opened, the scent of incense wafted out into the waiting crowd and I was awestruck. The church was gorgeous, obviously very, very old, but beautiful. You got the impression God had been hanging out here for a very long time.
It was not a particularly large church, but it was grandly decorated with beautiful paintings and an amazing amount of gold. There was no formal seating going on. Everyone just wandered in and took a seat. There was no his side and her side, just folks wandering into a pew as they entered. The family was sort of huddled over to one side. We had some front row seats, but they certainly were not particularly advantageous.
The interior of the church
Even the groom gets an outfit!
Photographers everywhere
The Altar
One of the church’s towers
The Resurrected Christ
The bride’s father greets guests
Shady reads the Scripture
Waiting to enter the church
Daniel takes a nap
EVery couple is treated like a King and Queen
A cross atop the church
The smaller guests
A handsome couple
The interior dome
Forget What You Know About Weddings
Throw out preconceptions, because this had nothing in common with your basic American wedding. The bride and groom were seated in thrones at the front of the church. The photographers and videographers considered themselves very much part of the ceremony and spread themselves out across the front of the church. Joining them on the stage were a group of priests in decidedly Coptic garb.
Coptic Officiants at the Wedding
Now I’ve been to weddings where there were more than one officiant. Sometimes it’s because each family wants to be represented or there are several members of the clergy in the family. This wedding had an entire crowd of priests. They’re the guys wearing the black turbans, but these four in the picture are only a sample.
I was made to understand the number of priests reflected the status of the people getting married and no one could remember a wedding where they’d seen more priests. Most gratifying was the priest who had come all the way from Sharm El Sheik because of my niece, who holds such a special place in their congregation. Each of the priests participated in one way or another. Some doing ceremonial duty and others delivering pithy little sermonettes to the bride and groom. (None of which I could understand, of course, because they were in either Coptic or Arabic.)
All the while, the church was a beehive of activity. Along with all the priests were acolytes and altar boys wandering around doing a variety of tasks, from swinging incense burners to lighting candles. At one point my nephew Shady went up to read the Bible. Also any time a priest wasn’t involved in the ceremony, they were kept busy blessing whoever came up to the stage, bowed before them and kissed their hands.
Folks seeking blessings weren’t the only ones who came up to the stage. As if the photography and videography crew of about six people weren’t enough, no one hesitated to pop right up out of their seat and head up to the front to get a picture – and if the best angle was between the priest and the wedding couple, then so be it.
Behind their back, their very expensive decorations are already coming down
I was gob-smacked. I couldn’t believe it. The bride and groom were almost an after-thought in all the frenetic activity. Suddenly it was all over. The bride and groom stood. A few pictures were taken and we all filed out of the church.
Let the Turnover Begin
I was still trying to process what I had seen, when I realized that as soon as the bride and groom had their back towards the stage, folks started tearing down the decorations so they could get set for the next wedding.
An American church might have 2 or three weddings on a given day, but Coptic churches schedule about an hour per wedding and stack them all day long, from early in the morning until late in the evening – especially on holidays like the day after Easter. If they get behind, which apparently they always do, then they just hurry you up a little more.
Once we were outside, you could see they had already redecorated the entry to the church and on a corner near the church were the floral remains of several different ceremonies. Egyptians do have a receiving line, but it’s held on the porch of the church, rather than at the reception. As the wedding party assembled into the obligatory formation, a limo pulled up in front of the church. I will never forget seeing the bride get out of the limo, go through the security routine we had and then climb up the stairs to the sanctuary. It was one of those odd scenes that you can’t erase.
Then it was back in the bus and back to the Fairmont.
Our lunch at Baalbak was great and we could have easily sat around the congenial table and chatted for hours, but at seven they had to open for regular patronage. They finally shoved the last of us out of the room at about 6:40. To a certain extent, hysteria was setting in. We had a wedding in less that 24 hours.
Time for the Gifts
After lunch, Bill’s family went into a variety of directions. Some back to hotels, others to Mirette’s apartment and Bill wanted to know what I wanted to do. Well, my number one priority was still delivering gifts. Good husband that he is, he got us back to the hotel, gave me enough time to get the gifts wrapped and then arranged for someone to come pick us up, all so I could get the gifts off my list. Perfect. The bonus was that he got to take a nap – albeit one where he had his head covered with a pillow, because I was rustling tissue paper and gift bags.
In good American time, Mirette came to the hotel to pick us up. This is the point at which I get to tell you what a doll she is. She adores her Uncle Bill and is so sweet to me that I could just eat her up. This girl has a heart as big as they come and it is open to everyone. Love her!!
My beautiful nieces. Maggie on the left and Mirette on the right.
Sister Mona’s Old Apartment
Mirette’s apartment is in Heliopolis, not far from the Fairmont. It’s in the same neighborhood her mom used to live in. Bill was interested in driving around and seeing how things looked, because this is where Mona lived since the time he was a boy. He has fond memories of daily trips to the area for Mona to tutor him. Believe me, he was a lot more interested in the daily trips than he was in the tutoring.
I’d stayed with Mona for a day or two on our last trip and been amazed by a few of the constant inconveniences of life in Egypt. For one thing, they don’t have little things like building codes which demand that you must build a parking lot to accommodate the people living in a building. Parking cars two and three deep around a building was the norm. The density is hard to imagine. One huge multi-story apartment building after another built chock-a-block. You can literally reach across and steal your neighbor’s underwear hanging on the patio of an adjacent building.
You don’t need alarm clocks, because early morning prayers and the vegetable crier with the donkey cart will wake you up. The dust is appalling. You cannot keep a house clean. The water may or may not work. The same with electricity. Life is chaos. And this isn’t in the ghetto. This is in one of the best residential areas in Cairo. I found it mind-boggling.
Rent Control vs. Life Control
My liberal friends like to tout ideas like rent control. Before you think rent control is a good idea, take a gander at Egypt. It has rent control. The place is built and you pay through the nose for the most basic of apartments. The buyer is responsible for finishing out the apartment, so while you may have a very elegant tasteful finish, the guy on the next floor can negate it with his purple porch or maybe he’ll never finish it out, leaving a hole where there should be an apartment. Maybe he’ll put up curtains or build something on his patio. That’s tough, because once your in, you’re stuck. While things may seem expensive in the beginning, hang around, you’ll have a bargain in a few dacades.
My sister-in-law now lives in the apartment she renovated that belonged to her parent’s. The rent is equivalent to $10 a month. She’s got an absentee landlord who allows one of the tenants to be his super and the perk is this agent is allowed to run all kinds of scams – overcharging for electricity, doing faulty repairs, whatever. But Mona’s got it good. Her neighborhood is still one of the nicer ones available.
The worst part for Egypt is that Mona is the exception that proves the rule. She could afford to do a renovation and she works hard to keep her apartment clean and attractive. In most cases, by the time a family has lived a lifetime in an apartment, it desperately needs to be renovated, but there isn’t any money. The owner of the building certainly isn’t going to renovate it, because the building no longer has any value to him. He will continue to collect the minuscule rents until the last person there dies or maybe he won’t and if he doesn’t, maybe his super will take them for himself. Many, many buildings are in horrid disrepair. Perhaps there’s no one living there any longer and the owner has abandoned it. Perhaps there’s still a family or two in the building, praying they can somehow continue to get water and electricity until they are dead.
You can spend the next day or two trouble-shooting this, but you have two possible ends – the current situation remains or the government gets involved. We Americans assume that the government is just going to come in and fix everything, but what happens if the government we are depending on is broke. Welcome to Egypt. Let’s just hope it’s nothing like this ever happens to us, but just to be on the safe side, let’s not have rent control.
I just got back from Egypt and I want you to visit this amazing country. You’re not going to believe some of the exciting adventures I had while I was there. I hope that as you read my blog in the coming months, you’ll start planning your own trip in your head. As much as I want you to go, I have always been totally honest with you – sharing the good and the bad. So it is only fair that I start this series by warning you that Egypt is not an easy country to visit. You have to overlook a lot to see what is valuable, but there is great value. In the coming weeks I will rave about spectacular hotels and jaw-dropping sites, but I have to start here, with the not-so-pleasant reality of Egypt today.
Apartment Buildings
Then and Now
This was my second trip to Egypt. The first was in 1996 when terrorism was an occasional, rather than a daily, thing and the only terror incident associated with Egypt was an attack on a busload of tourists in 1990. The world has changed a lot since then. Days before I was scheduled to leave for this trip, bombs went off in two different Coptic Churches. It didn’t stop us from going, but it did give us pause. It shouldn’t stop you from going either, but you need to know what you’re getting into.
The imminent threat of violence was the most obvious difference between this trip and the one we enjoyed twenty years ago. Security was a pervasive presence, everywhere we went – whether we were visiting a museum, an airport or a church. Every time we entered our hotel we had to put all our belongings through a scanner and ourselves through a metal detector. I was glad for the security, but saddened by the need for it.
It was the same thing pretty much everywhere we went and you just got tired of it. Take a romantic walk on the beach and come back to the hotel for a thorough search. By the time you prove you have a right to be there and you don’t have any WMD’s, the romance has dissipated. This adds to the stress of travel and distracts from your ability to really relax.
One evening we accompanied a niece and her husband to a hotel where they stayed on their honeymoon. They wanted to take a walk down memory lane. Our taxi went through one inspection at the gate to the property and we were put through a thorough search at the front door. Then as we headed out to the pool to look around, we were stopped because we were not actually guests at the hotel. We had to go to the front desk, explain ourselves, show them our room keys to a sister property in town and give them a passport to hold before we were allowed into the pool area. By the time we actually made it down there, we had more thoughts about the intrusion of security than we did Maggie and Shady’s honeymoon.
Forget Lowe’s or Home Depot, Shop for Home Improvements Streetside
Related Changes
The threat of terrorism has devastated the country. Tourism has been at the center of Egypt’s economy for a very long time, but they have nothing to take its place and little with which to woo the tourists who actually show up. Yes, they have some of the most splendid sights in the world, like The Pyramids, Luxor Temple, The Valley of the Kings and such, but the hassle associated with visiting them is challenging.
I thought Egypt was the dirtiest place I had ever visited the last time I went. Well, now it is beyond dirty. It’s down right filthy and much of it has been abandoned. Whole blocks of Cairo and Alexandria’s city centers are just empty graffiti-covered buildings, surrounded by piles of trash. Everywhere we went, unfinished new construction showed signs of being abandoned years ago, when their hope of an Arab Spring turned into a nightmare. Don’t plan on wearing the same clothes over and over. A day of touring will render you and everything you are wearing disgusting. You either need to pack more or plan on a budget for laundry.
An Egyptian Family on a Motorcycle
And Then There’s the People
Egyptians, as a whole, are wonderful. They are happy people who want to get to know you and they love pleasing you. They want you to love their country the way they do, but right now they are a little embarrassed – as if you caught them between working in the yard and getting a shower. They’ll point you towards the freshly planted flowers, hoping you won’t notice how dirty and sweaty they are.
However, they are also frustrated and tired. At almost every hotel we observed someone having a meltdown in the lobby and it was usually an Egyptian guest. Life is hard. The economy is impossible. Traffic is horrendous. Everything is harder to do than it should be and after a ten minute walk your white shirt just isn’t white anymore. Still, given the chance, most of them will bend over backwards to accommodate you and try to create a smile.
At the same time, we noticed there is also a trend that distances the female population from visitors. There was a greater number of women completely covered from head to toe. During our last visit, most women dressed very conservatively and the majority covered their heads, often with a bright colorful scarf. Many would be sharply dressed, while sporting a more conservative hijab. There were some who wore the more old-fashioned gallabeya and hijab, but only a rare woman was covered and veiled in black.
This time gallabeyas and hijabs were the norm. Young women wore leggings or jeans with a tunic, but the hijabs were everywhere and they were not brightly colored scarves, but solid blocks of neutral colors. However, women covered from head to toe in black were no longer rare and I noticed most of them also wore black gloves. They were moving shadows with just a sliver of their eyes showing – distant, aloof, unapproachable.
In the Cairo Museum we saw a young couple taking a selfie. The woman was completely covered in black. We wondered at the incongruity of hiding yourself and then taking a selfie. The young man’s outfit was standard casual fare, but she was covered in plain black without even a bit of embroidery. A lot of mixed messages there.
So I will tell you the story of our trip. I’ll remind you of the difficulties from time to time, but I’ll leave it to you to remember that everything was dirty, inconvenient and noisy, whether I mention it or not. Come back next week and we’ll hit the road.