DESTINATIONS, International, Restaurants & Bars, Road Trips, TRAVEL

An Alexandrian Adventure

We were in no mood for another hantoor tour!

TRAVEL THERE: STARVING , DAZED & CONFUSED IN ALEX

The smallest things trip you up when traveling – like landing at the Library of Alexandria mid-day.  If there were vending machines in the Library we didn’t find them.  There was no coffee bar.  We found a sorry excuse for a gift shop, but all they had were tacky souvenirs.  We were about ready to eat a few books.

Where’s the Fish Market?

Instead of just finding the closest place to eat, Bill decided our next stop should be The Fish Market, a restaurant recommended to us by several people as the best food in Alexandria.  So Bill started a campaign to find this marvelous place.  There was one small problem.  No one knew what he was talking about.

One of the first people he asked directed us to go back towards Fort Qaitby, where we’d visited earlier in the day.  He was all ready to head that way when I pulled out my phone and showed him the directions he’d gotten would take us, not to a restaurant called The Fish Market, but to an actual open air fresh fish market in the old part of the city.

So, he tried another tack.  The people he was talking to were confused by his inquiry.  Most thought he wanted to buy fish and directed him to various grocers in the area.  Finally, he found someone who would listen long enough for him to explain that he wanted a restaurant where you were able to pick out your fresh fish for cooking and then have it served to you at the table.  Bingo!  Someone knew exactly what he was talking about.  They said they didn’t know if the name was right, but there was such a restaurant in a mall that’s connected to the Four Seasons Hotel.

Bill was beaming.  He decided we’d grab a cab and head to the other end of the Corniche where the elegant Four Seasons Hotel was the anchor of a popular mall.

Terror in a Taxi

Bill hailed a cab and negotiated the fare.  We headed off with the beach just over our left shoulder.  We anticipated a short ride along on the main drag.

Suddenly, there was a big traffic jam due to some construction.  Our driver left the main drag and headed off away from the beach.  I’ve already told you how scary it was when we got off the major thoroughfares in the hantoor.  I really wasn’t paying all that much attention to our taxi driver or his vehicle until he started taking short cuts through parking lots.

Remember those terrorist I was worried I’d run into in Dahab?  Well, suddenly I was afraid they’d found me in Alex.  I realized the noise on the radio was actually some sort of political rant.  Of course, I couldn’t understand what was being said, but the tone is the same all over the world.

Then I took a look at our driver.  He had the same beard and crazy look every terrorist on the television seemed to have.  Hanging from the rear view mirror were a selection of Islamic prayer beads.  Please understand.  I don’t think every Muslim is a terrorist, but I was beginning to think the one driving our car was.  There were a number of decals on the windows and none of them looked like they were devoted to a prophet of peace.

We had no idea where we were.  He’d made so many turns since leaving the Corniche I couldn’t even guess where the beach might be.  I started to think about the fact that this was our first day in Alex and it would be a few days before anyone expected to hear from us again.  What could happen to us before anyone even realized we were missing?

When I was young, my favorite Bible verse was, “What time I am afraid, I will put my trust in Thee,” a verse from Psalms.  The rational person I walk around as most of the time was pretty sure everything would turn out OK, but that person who thought Dahab was the end of my line was quickly taking over.  I had forgotten about the verse on the way to Dahab, but suddenly, it was on my mind.  I began to repeat it silently.  Rational me thought everything would be OK.  Irrational me wasn’t taking any chances.

Before too long, my friend the terrorist was back in familiar territory.  His detour had taken him around the construction and he was about to turn right onto the Corniche.  Part of me felt a little silly, but I was reminded how fragile life can be.  All of us are one careless decision away from tragedy.  Keeping that in mind makes each moment sweeter.

Soon we were getting out of the taxi and heading towards the mall.  Would The Fish Market Restaurant be inside?

Accommodations, Architecture, ART, Decorative Arts, DESTINATIONS, International, Restaurants & Bars, Road Trips, TRAVEL

Welcome to The Cecil Hotel

TRAVEL THERE: FADED GLORY ON THE SEA

Ah! Civilization!  Crystal chandeliers, beautiful draperies, crisp linen sheets, thick carpeting.  Welcome to Alexandria’s Cecil Hotel!

So Happy to be There

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.

 

Accommodations, DESTINATIONS, International, Restaurants & Bars, Road Trips, TRAVEL

Welcome to Dahab Paradise Resort

TRAVEL THERE: A SECOND LOOK AT DAHAB

Okay, this is where I confess that there is actually nothing wrong with the Dahab Paradise Resort.  The real problem was my attitude.  I still say we had no business heading off into a desert the US State Department warned us to avoid, but if we were going to be there anyway, this was a nice place to go.

The Bare Necessities

The Dahab Paradise is a lovely resort, but not in the traditional American five-star sense.  You’re not going to find stationary in your desk drawer or a terry robe in the closet (what closet?).  However, you will find very nice people in a very attractive facility.  The open air lobby looks out on the gorgeous pool.  Beyond the pool is the Red Sea.  Your room will be clean.  Our balcony was a small piece of heaven.  The furnishings are very appropriate for a hotel in the Sinai Desert.  They had a definite Bedouin charm.  In other words, if you’re going to Dahab, stay here.

There’s a very nice open air restaurant not far from the pool.  We had a fine dinner there and the breakfast was spectacular – especially if you are Egyptian or like Egyptian foods.  Personally I love pita, feta and olives for breakfast.  They will even fix up whatever eggs you want, but I’m not very eggy.

Now the bathroom facilities are minimal.  Don’t drink the water and only one of you will be able to be in there at a time.  I couldn’t face the shower and hubby wasn’t crazy about it, but it was functional.

Hanging by the Pool

The Dahab Paradise pool is out of this world.  It looks beautiful and our family had a great time in it.  There are plenty of chaise lounges and umbrellas for those of us who prefer to stay out of the water.  It’s so gorgeous that it’s a little surreal to think, “Here I am in the Sinai Desert and right over there, about 30 miles away is Saudi Arabia.”  The only real problem is the radical Islamist who cause so much trouble are probably even closer.

Once I was over my pout I was thrilled to discover my coloring cards and colored pencils had done their trick.  My grandnephew climbed up into my lap after his dip in the pool and I thought my heart was going to burst.  Even my grandniece, who is a little more stand-offish behaved as though I was on her team.  Of course, we’d be heading back to Cairo the next day and then parting ways until our next chance to get together.

Drinks in the Conversation Pit

After everyone was out of the pool we went back to our rooms to get freshened up, but soon we were back outside for the sunset.  The hotel has a great sunken conversation pit on the grounds with a wonderful firepit.  My nephew Shady moved to the head of the class with a bottle of bourbon.  All these guys are scotch drinkers and I’m not.  So, time after time the rest of the crew would be sharing a nice buzz and I’d be sober as a judge.  This time Shady showed up with a bottle of bourbon and gifted it to me.  Thank you Shady!

Awhile later they let us know dinner was served and we enjoyed a delicious moonlit meal.  That’s one of the picture postcards from the trip seared into my mind, but no one thought to take a picture.  The time in the conversation pit and around the dinner table under the stars were moments words don’t do justice and even a thousand words would not have been able to aptly describe it.   

Next up we’re headed back to Cairo after a quiet morning at Dahab Paradise.  Come back next week to read about that.

ART, Attractions, DESTINATIONS, International, Performing Arts, Restaurants & Bars, Road Trips, TRAVEL

Midnight at the Oasis

TRAVEL THERE: CLIMB ON YOUR QUAD AND DRIVE

Imagine a sheik has invited you to his desert oasis for a banquet.  What would you expect?  What would you wear?  Well, let’s pretend my nephew Ayman is the sheik and I’ll tell you about our night under the stars.

Transportation

For this adventure we had a van, that took us to a place that rented quads to tourists.  Some of the girls wanted their own vehicle but I was content to climb up behind my hubby.  Off we went into the horizon.  In every direction it seemed there were miles and miles of sand, but straight ahead was a mountain and we headed towards it.

As we departed the rental facility, the mountain appeared no further away than the length of a football field, but as we took out across the sand, it seemed to back away from us.  At the same time, it got bigger and bigger and bigger.  The ride was a lot of fun, even if it was a little tame.  We had to line up and follow the leader.  Bill tried to jazz it up a little bit, but was admonished to get back in line and behave.  It was kind of like one of those trail rides where your horse plods along in a rut he’s trodded along for decades. You were imagining galloping along with the wind in your hair and all you got was dirt between your teeth.  On the quad you got wind in the hair alright, but you also got sand in every imaginable crevice.  Still it was fun.

The Oasis

Our destination was no oasis.  I didn’t even see a palm tree – merely a collection of tables in a nook below the mountain.  We were among the first guests to arrive.  We settled around what seemed like an advantageous table and let the evening unfold.  Service was, to say the least, slow.

While I wouldn’t say we were in a hurry, you really don’t want to leave these guys without any entertainment for very long – otherwise they will make it up.  Soon plastic cups and adult beverages came out of the bags some of the ladies had brought along.  As groups wandered in and began to fill the tables around us, our guys started providing some of that entertainment they are famous for coming up with.  Yes, that’s my husband waving the checkered scarf.

Just as night fell, the servers began to pass out platters of food.  It was, in fact, so dark that we had to guess at what we were eating.  While it was not the best food we had in Egypt, it was OK and no one got sick.  Then the entertainment began in earnest.  If you’ve been following this trip on my blog, you won’t be surprised to know there were belly dancers and sword dancers and belly dancers and fire dancers and belly dancers and native music and belly dancers and whirling dervishes.

The best part was the whirlers.  I’d seen quite a few of them by this time and pretty quickly you get down the shared repertoire.  However, these guys didn’t just whirl around on the stage and then go their merry way.  Oh no.  There was a rock ledge right behind the benches we were sitting on and suddenly we had a whirler doing his stuff right next to us.  Yes, it was pretty cool.

When the whirlers were done, the sword dancers came out and shortly thereafter it was time to drive back to the bus.  After our second quad trip, I felt grimy in places I didn’t even know were places.  We crawled onto the bus for the trip back to the hotel, but we couldn’t get into bed until we’d done something about the grime.  Sweet dreams until next week, when we’ll go yachting.

 

 

ART, Attractions, DESTINATIONS, International, Performing Arts, Restaurants & Bars, Road Trips, TRAVEL

Broadway on the Red Sea

TRAVEL THERE: WHAT’S NEXT SHARM?

I’m in Sharm el Sheik, a resort town on the Red Sea, and it’s past my bedtime.  I’m stuffed into the back seat of my niece’s car trying to stifle my yawns.  My husband is in our nephew’s car at some other location.  Our niece and nephew are on the phone discussing what we should do next.  It’s all in Arabic, so even though the whole conversation is on speaker phone, I have no idea what is going on.  Some resolution is made and we zoom across town to our next destination.  It might be late at night during the week, but you wouldn’t know it from the festival atmosphere.  Why all these people prefer to wander around inland,when there is a perfectly good Boardwalk on the Red Sea, just a few blocks away, I will never know.  That was my big question over the next few days as we scurried around trying to entertain ourselves.  Why were all these venues spread out all over town, when it had been so perfect to have everything right there at the beach?

Going to the Mall

Our destination was a mall, but is wasn’t like anything we have in Dallas.  Here in Dallas we are serious about shopping.  There they also shop.

My niece found parking, a constant challenge, as she continued her phone conversations, probably with her sons, who were wandering the city on public transportation.  We piled out of the car and reunited with our spouses.  All of us stomped through a virtually empty shopping center and I wondered where we would end up.  Don’t get me wrong, the place was beautiful with all kinds of lovely stores, but most everything was closed and it looked like a ghost town.

After what seemed like a long trek, across esplanades, around grand staircases and through narrow hallways, we arrived to the middle of everything, a large open-air patio, full of patrons smoking sheesha and enjoying a lively stage show.

My nephew Ayman started working the room and magic started happening – something I saw a lot of over the next few days.  Though it seemed our big group would have to break up into smaller bunches to enjoy the show, it was only an illusion, because we had Ayman.  Like the Red Sea parting, a large space opened in the center of the crowd and chairs began to appear out of nowhere.  In just moments our entire group was seated in the center of the action.

Drinks, food and hookahs were ordered and we sat back to enjoy the show.  The only problems were a few mosquitoes and the fact that I was about to fall asleep, but those were minor irritations.  The stage props suggested the show had a Broadway theme, but don’t let that fool you.  It was all the usual Arab entertainments, belly dancers, whirling dervishes, belly dancers, a magician, belly dancers, swords, belly dancers – well you get the picture.  I’ve included some photos below.

When the show was over we gathered up our belongings and headed back to the hotel.  This day, which had seeped over into the next, was over.  Within a few hours, we’d be climbing into another vehicle for our next entertainment.  Enjoy the images below and come back next week for more Sharm.

 

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Charming Sharm

Off to the Desert

TRAVEL THERE: ADVENTURE PACKED DAYS

In Sharm el Sheik I took off my Museum Girl hat and embraced the Egyptian way to vacation.  As far as I’ve been able to discern, there’s not a single museum in the area.  It’s completely given over to entertainment venues and various sports rentals, from scuba gear to dune-buggies.  I can’t give you any real travel hints, because my nephew Ayman planned and booked everything.  I’d just show up in the lobby at whatever time I was told to be there and climb into whatever vehicle had been provided for our transportation.  

A Tiny Drip of Disappointment

View at the Sharm Marriot

The moment I arrived in Sharm I was ready to hit the Boardwalk and Corniche.  Some of my fondest memories of my previous visit were created there.  Each night we’d stroll along a thriving beach scene.  On one side was the beach and on the other was a line-up of amazing entertainment provided by various hotels.  At one venue you’d see a magician, next would be a belly dancer, then a singer, then a cultural variety show, then a comedian, then haunting music by a band of natives, then – well you get the picture.  And food – oh my goodness!  Each restaurant was bustling and at each one the cuisine tasted better than the one before.  I so wanted to re-live those nights of romance and excitement.

When we arrived at our hotel, the one we’d stayed at previously for old times sake, Bill was ready for a nap.  I unpacked our bags and set up the room for our stay.  Then I visited our balcony and enjoyed the view.  We were right by the pool and beyond the pool was the Red Sea.  Along with his nap, Bill was expecting a call from the family to give us the scoop on the evening’s entertainment.

Trying to make the best of a sad situation and really bad hair!

Finally, Bill woke up and initiated the call himself, because I was about to explode.  We’d be joining the rest of the crowd a little later, but first we’d have dinner on the Boardwalk.  The Arab Spring might have improved Egypt’s political situation, releasing them from the tyrannical Mubarek, but it also destroyed Sharm El Sheik.  What had once been a thriving international hot spot was transformed into a ghost town of empty restaurants with an occasional entertainer playing to an empty room. It broke my heart.  The lesser of the pathetic evils seemed to be an Italian joint, but it was bad service and bad food to go with my bad hair!

Let the Fun Begin

Heart-broken we returned to the hotel and went to the hotel portico at the assigned time.  My niece Mirette and her husband Ayman appeared in two different cars and whisked us away to enjoy the night – ladies in one car, guys in another.  Her intentions were good and she took us to a glamorous beach-side restaurant which proved there was some life in Sharm, even if the Corniche had died a brutal death.  Unfortunately, the wait was hours long and there was really no place to wait, so we climbed back in to the car to execute Plan B.

I can’t go on without telling you one very funny thing.  Public transportation and Uber are the way my grand-nephews negotiate the town of Sharm.  When we arrived with Mirette, there were her sons waiting for us.  When we moved on to Plan B, the boys wanted a lift.  They’d gotten themselves to restaurant, but the nearest public transportation was several blocks away and they didn’t want to wait for Uber.  So, since the car was full, Mirette opens up the trunk and they climbed in.

  I had a moment of jealously for this simpler way of life.  I used to live like that.  Cramming a vanload of people into a car, riding in the back of a pick-up truck, sneaking people into the drive-in in the trunk.  That was back in the days when you could legally drive with a cold one in your beverage holder.  That evening we giggled all the way to the bus stop, enjoying the simple pleasure of riding along with passengers in the trunk. Nowadays, America is so safe and politically correct that a simple moment’s pleasure has to be weighed against jail time.

The night was far from over.  Just about the time this Museum Girl is ready for bed, my nieces and nephews are just starting to enjoy the evening.  So come back next week and see where we headed after this.

Accommodations, DESTINATIONS, International, Restaurants & Bars, Road Trips, TRAVEL

Observed at the Breakfast Buffet

The Mena House
Waiting for Izzat

TRAVEL THERE: MORNING AT THE MENA HOUSE

After the wedding, four of us went to the Mena House, while everyone else went to Sharm el Shiek, a beach town on the Red Sea.    Our nephew and his friend had headed to Sharm as I repacked our luggage the night before and Izzat would be picking us up to take us to the airport.  I regretted leaving the Mena House.  There was so much more of it I wanted to enjoy.  I wanted to laze around the gorgeous pool, enjoy my patio and continue to eat marvelous meals.  We had one more meal to enjoy at their remarkable buffet.

Breakfast at the Mena House

I won’t bore you with the details of yet another breakfast buffet.  I actually got tired of them while I was there.  Morning after morning each hotel had a massive spread of food and I had to walk the not-so-fine line between satisfying my hunger and becoming a practicing gourmand.  I will share an odd situation I observed, however.  On our first morning at the Mena House, Bill remarked on a woman who had piled a plate high with carbs.  He assumed she was gathering her own breakfast and in his opinion she needed to modify her diet.  On the second morning, she was back and I watched her, because I doubted anyone could actually eat the mound of pastries she had gathered up.

Come to find out, she wasn’t serving herself at all.  She gathered up several plates heaping with food on a table and had a bus boy deliver it to her room for her on a large tray.  Of course, I’m wondering all kinds of things, like why doesn’t her family just come down and get their own food, but most of all I felt sorry for her.  I even speculated that her husband was one of the towel wearing pilgrims I’d seen at the airport and wondered if his pilgrim status kept him from making the trip to the buffet.  Whatever the reason, she didn’t have the demeanor of someone who was enjoying their role.  She seemed huddled and secretive.  Her posture suggested she expected to be berated for her performance.  I realize I was imposing my own western ideas on her, but it was not the fact that she was performing this task for her family that bothered me, it was how burdensome the job seemed to be.

I’ve filled a tray at a breakfast buffet for Bill before and taken it back to the room.  It wasn’t a mound of pastries, but I certainly didn’t mind doing it.  I even enjoyed it, smiling as I thought of ways to make the meal more attractive.  When we’re at a buffet together we take turns serving each other.  Each of us will fill our own plate and then if we head back for beverage refills or to get a missed condiment, we always check to see if the other needs something.  Sometimes when we go back for the refill we’ll spot an item that we think the other must have missed and carry it back for their enjoyment.

My silent observation at the Mena caused me to watch for similar situations in the other places we traveled.  I did not see an exact replication of the circumstances with the huddled woman, but I did see echoes of it.  In Sharm I would see tables full of men loudly enjoying their breakfasts.  On the table were large stacks of pastries like the one prepared by the woman in Giza.  Meanwhile the women scurried around preparing individual plates for the men and for the children. Over several mornings I watched one woman and I don’t think she ever got the chance to eat.

I’m all about different strokes for different folks, but one thing really bugged me and it was those huge mounds of pastries.  Each plate seemed to have about 20 pastries carefully stacked on it and there were several plates scattered on the tables.  When the families would leave the table it seemed as if all 20 pastries were still there.  I couldn’t help but wonder what happened to those mounds of pastries.  American hygiene would demand they be thrown away, but I saw so much poverty and want through out the country that I couldn’t help but wish these gorgeous tidbits were in some way passed on to people who needed them.  I couldn’t help but think that they might be taken to the kitchen for recycling on the buffet – so I pretty much stayed away from the pastries.

The red one is mine and the silver one is Bills. Farewell Mena House!

Farewell Mena House

From the buffet we made our way to the lobby and settled our bill.  Our luggage was already waiting for us.  Before long, Izzat pulled under the portico and our next adventure began – and once again it was at the airport!  Come back next week and laugh with me about Egyptian security measures.

Accommodations, Architecture, ART, Attractions, Decorative Arts, DESTINATIONS, Gardens, International, Restaurants & Bars, Road Trips, TRAVEL

The Marvelous Mena House

TRAVEL THERE: AN AMAZING HOTEL

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.

DESTINATIONS, International, Restaurants & Bars, TRAVEL

A Reception on Egyptian Time

Wedding Centerpiece

TRAVEL THERE: AND THEN WE WAITED

If the wedding was a departure from my norm, the reception was a rocketship to Mars.  I’ll try to explain it, but I doubt I can do it justice.

The Very Long Interlude

The bus ride from the church to the hotel only took moments.  We’d hung out on the church portico for a long time and I was glad to be starting the next phase of the celebrations, but I immediately ran into trouble – or perhaps I should say I tripped into it.  As if my lack of tendrils wasn’t enough of a humiliation, while I was going down the stairs to the ballroom, the sole of my strappy high-heeled sandal decided to part ways with the rest of the shoe.

Halted in my progress, I expressed my desire to change into another pair of shoes, but was dissuaded from it by one of my nephews.  He explained I didn’t want to miss the entry of the bride and groom.  Apparently he thought their arrival was imminent, but as I would learn before the evening was over, he was very wrong.  I was given the assurance that almost immediately the dance floor would fill with women who would also be barefoot.  That seemed reasonable, so I took off the shoes and carried them with me into the Pearl Ballroom.

Wedding Buffet

Let me just say the decor was amazing and beautiful.  In the first few moments I was awestruck and had a hard time processing it all.  Little did I know just how much time I would have to consider every single detail of the room.  And I might mention that I was starving.  I hadn’t eaten since breakfast.  I was saving calories for the huge buffet I heard would be coming.  However, right that minute I was so hungry I was wondering if my broken shoes might make a good meal.  They certainly weren’t serving any other purpose.

Perhaps you’re concerned about me being so hungry in a situation where adult beverages would be served.  Well, let me remind you.  there was to be no bar.  There was no champagne.  There was no signature cocktail.  Scotch is the wedding beverage of choice and for at least the first hour of the wait, there was nothing – because everything is supposed to happen at an Egyptian reception after the bride and groom enter.  Our bride and groom had disappeared and they stayed disappeared for a long time.  And they didn’t even have the excuse of picture taking to cover their absence, because back at the church, folks were by now setting up for yet another wedding after the wedding that followed our wedding.

American wedding traditions scored one on the Egyptians at this point.  Some couples handle it as Bill and I did.  We got our pictures ahead of time.  Bill and I beat everyone to the reception and greeted them as they came in – ushering them into the buffet.  Other couples, wanting post wedding pictures and the big entrance, have a cocktail hour complete with waiters wandering around with trays of treats.  I remember long awkward waits in the past, but between the cocktail hour and folks who get the photos out of the way early, we’ve sort of solved that problem.

The first hour of the wait passed pretty quickly.  Just taking in the set-up of the ballroom was an entertainment.  There were long dining tables and high cocktail tables; a glamorous lounge set up for the bride and groom; and a huge stage filled one end of the ballroom.  When that fascination wore out there were all those Egyptians in their wedding finery to watch.  Just as at an American wedding, there were kids entertaining themselves all around the room.  I was hungry and thirsty, my husband abandoned me in my shoe-less state to greet old friends, but I figured the wait would be over soon.  Come back next week and see how that went.

Accommodations, DESTINATIONS, International, Restaurants & Bars, Road Trips, TRAVEL

Wedding Morning Breakfast at the Fairmont

Quiche at Le Marche

TRAVEL THERE: WHAT I DID ON THE DAY OF THE WEDDING

Waking up in my hotel room, my first thought was, “This is it.  Bassem and Mariam’s wedding day.”  My next thought was a sense of gratefulness that I hadn’t allowed Bill to talk me into a tour on the day of the wedding.  I planned to relax all day.

Back to Le Marche Cafe

When we headed out of the room on our second morning at the Fairmont, there was no question about where we’d have breakfast.   We were going to Le Marche, as much for the delicious food as for our friend, Ahmed. We were momentarily disappointed when Ahmed was not there to greet us, but when we asked for him, the other guy faded into the background and a wide-smiling Ahmed appeared to welcome us back.

We sat down to peruse the menu and enjoyed several chance encounters with family, who passed to and fro in the lobby.  The groom scooted by on an errand, then along came the bride and her mother with a trail of attendants.  The attendants were in charge of the luggage and a rolling rack which was transporting the wedding gown.  Don’t worry the gown was completely covered, so there was no peeking.  Double kisses all around!

Next to arrive were nephew Steven and his friend John.  They decided to join us for breakfast and enjoy the attentions of Ahmed, the new friend of the family.  The meal was delightful.  I ordered a scone and got a second one on the house.  Steven ordered a chocolate croissant and got a Danish to boot.  Bill was delighted by his generous slice of quiche.  John, however, did not have such great fortune with his selection.

John’s Egyptian fantasy meal was a plate of fresh dates and figs.  He arrived a day or two before we did and asked for this delicacy at every opportunity and though he continued his quest throughout the whole trip, I don’t think he found it anywhere.  So much for Raiders of the Lost Ark.  Ahmed was so disappointed to admit he couldn’t provide the plate of dates and figs, but he suggested fruit instead.

John wanted to know how the fruit was presented.  “Is it on a platter or in a bowl?” John asked.  “Whatever you like,” Ahmed assured him.  “Is it a fruit salad?” John asked.  “No,” Ahmed replied, “it is a salad in a bowl.”  That being settled, John decided to see what would appear.

Ahmed roamed back and forth between the kitchen and the table.  Beverages were the first to appear and for awhile it seemed that was about all we were going to get.  Then the orders dribbled out.  First the pastries.  Then a while later, Bill got his quiche.  We were all just about done, when we started making noise about the missing fruit.  Ahmed was contrite in his protestations and assured us the fruit was almost there.

Ahmed, you were a treasure, but the fruit bowl, salad or whatever was a disappointment!  I’m sure any American could have driven to the nearest Kroger, bought some grapes, apples and oranges, returned home to chop them up into a bowl and then delivered them to the family, faster than Ahmed delivered up the same boring bowl from somewhere in the bowels of the Fairmont.  Not even a pineapple slice, no melons, nothing.  Just grocery store fruit!

Going Separate Ways

Bill was still having a difficult time believing I did not want to fill up every moment of the trip with tours and museums, but I was truly new and improved.  When Steven and John suggested he join them for a trip to the Khan-il-Kalili, I had my fingers crossed he’d join them, so I could have some alone time.

The crossed fingers worked.  The guys headed off on their adventure and I created my own spa day.  Come back next week and see how it went.