Road Trips – Page 18

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

Charming Sharm

January 10, 2018January 15, 2018 Jane Sadek

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

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.

DESTINATIONS, International, Road Trips, TRAVEL

Awkward at the Airport

December 20, 2017December 3, 2017 Jane Sadek

TRAVEL THERE: WISHING FOR AN X-RAY MACHINE

You can complain all you want to about airport security in America, but I don’t plan to pay you any attention. That’s because I’ve been through Egyptian security several times now and of all my experiences, this midday experience at the Cairo Airport takes the cake.

Unloading the Car

Bill and I are do-it-yourself-ers by nature, but you have to get over that if you want to board a plane in Cairo. When you pull up to the terminal you get your going-through-security buddy and he’s not optional. Our new buddy loaded our stuff onto his cart and led us through the terminal. A lot of what happened in transit is a bit of a fog, because Bill handled all of it in Arabic. Yes, I know I should learn the language, but I’m still learning English!

Unable to understand what was being said and done, I just shuffled along behind Bill and hoped I was getting it right. Here in America you go through security and you are done. It’s a pain, but it is one pain. In Cairo, you go through security, you go through security again and before its all over there’s no telling exactly how many more times you will be put through the fun of taking off your shoes, emptying your pockets, having your luggage x-rayed and yourself patted down. They vary the pattern so it won’t be predictable.

Going through the Process

The first pass went pretty well. You weren’t allowed to offload your checked luggage at the airline counter before entering security, so it was somewhat of a hassle. You and all your stuff had to go through the process together. I can see the value of that from a security standpoint, so while I would have loved to get rid of the big stuff, that didn’t happen until later and I didn’t mind. I guess that’s one of the reasons you get you going-through-security buddy.

The American in me felt some relief after that first pass. I assumed we were through, but suddenly we had to go through the whole rigmarole again. I was a little surprised, but only a little, because I’d already been in Egypt for days and going through some kind of security was an activity we did over and over and over. At the hotels, they went over you with a fine tooth comb at the gate, then again at the front door and then a various areas through out the property. You went through security to enter an attraction and for good measure you’d have to go through it again inside. You went through security to enter churches, museums and if you didn’t actually go through a security gate, you knew you were being watched.

The surprise came after I stepped through the metal detector. I was used to being patted down afterwards. I was not used to being fondled. Yep, you read that right. Just like in the US, women pat down women and men pat down men, but I got a fondler. I stepped out of the metal detector and a hajib’ed woman signaled for me to assume the Vetruvian Man position. I did. She reached out and grabbed my boobs. I’m not kidding. It wasn’t a pat down. It was like she was testing them to see if they were real. I was so shocked, I was speechless. I didn’t know if the treatment proved she had been poorly trained or whether she was doing exactly what she was supposed to do!

I wanted to swat her hands away and give her a piece of my mind, but I wanted to be through with the process and on my way to Sharm, too. I also didn’t want Bill defending my honor. On a previous trip to Egypt a man in a crowd had pinched my buttocks and I’d spontaneously complained about it. Bill took off after a guy and I died a million deaths in the few seconds before I could get him to come back. I didn’t want to draw any attention to us, so I just carried on through the rest of multiple security measures – but no one else grabbed anything I thought they shouldn’t, so I assume the treatment was specific to that one lady.

The flight to Sharm was a hoot. Come back next week and I’ll share the experience.

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

Observed at the Breakfast Buffet

December 13, 2017December 3, 2017 Jane Sadek

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.

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.

Architecture, ART, Attractions, DESTINATIONS, International, Road Trips, TRAVEL

Don’t Miss Dashour

November 29, 2017November 25, 2017 Jane Sadek

TRAVEL THERE: THE INFANCY OF PYRAMID BUILDING

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?

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?

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.

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

The Marvelous Mena House

November 8, 2017October 5, 2017 Jane Sadek

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.

Architecture, ART, Attractions, DESTINATIONS, International, Museums, Road Trips, TRAVEL

A Plethora of Pyramids

November 7, 2017October 7, 2017 Jane Sadek

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.

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.

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.

Accommodations, DESTINATIONS, International, Road Trips, TRAVEL

A Change of Gears

November 1, 2017October 3, 2017 Jane Sadek

TRAVEL THERE: GOOD-BYE FAIRMONT, HELLO MENA HOUSE

We visited Egypt to attend a wedding and what a wedding it was. Next we were headed to Giza for some Pyramid sight-seeing, but first we had to check out of the Fairmont and into the Mena House, after catching a few zzzz’s.

A Late Night Delivery

I stayed up very far past my bedtime celebrating the newlyweds, something that happened frequently on this vacation. When we finally got back to the room, we put away our wedding finery and gratefully fell into bed. An hour or two later, there was a knock on the door. I wasn’t sure what to expect, because of the urgency of the banging. Had a hotel guest confused our room for someone else’s? Was a wife fleeing an abusive husband? Had the newlyweds argued and needed a referee? Or was the party still going on and they’d decided to bring it to us?

Bill got up, went to the door and discovered members of the hotel staff with a cart full of food. My sister-in-law mentioned sending us some left-overs, but I’d assured her we didn’t need them. There was no microwave and while we did have a frig, it was full of refreshments the hotel wanted us to buy. We were also scheduled to be out of the hotel by noon. No time for a feast. Still, we’d ended up on the list of rooms to visit and they were going to deliver! Bill kept saying no thank you and the anonymous visitors kept bringing in trays of food.

Good Morning?

I’m persnickety about keeping a hotel room neat, but after our late night delivery I woke up at around 8:30 to what looked like a catering disaster. There were appetizers, main dishes and desserts all over the place. I wouldn’t have been too happy about that under any circumstances, but in this case, I had to pack before the car came.

I got myself ready and shuffled the food into a corner, but Mr. Bill didn’t budge until 10:30, which at least gave me an opportunity to catch up in my travel journal. As we’d planned the trip he’d tried to convince me this would be a good day for sight-seeing. His nephew Ayman, our travel agent, kept giving us itineraries with an 8 AM pick-up time and I kept sending them back. As I sat watching him sleep off his partying I felt pretty smug.

When he did get up, we found a snack among the desserts, but the rest of the un-refrigerated food seemed like food poisoning looking for a place to happen. The packing ritual didn’t take very long and by 11:30 we were in the lobby waiting for our car.

The Luxury of Having a Driver

While I love luxury, our travel budget rarely affords us much of it. We take nice vacations, but we always have the most economical transportation available. Thankfully, the groom insisted Bill hire a driver to transport us around when we were on our own and Ayman did us the favor of scheduling one guy to be our driver the whole time – even when we traveled to Alexandria.

Izzat was a treasure. He was very proper in a sort of Egyptian way. If you’ve been there you know what I mean and if you haven’t, I can’t explain it to you. He spoke impeccable English. The car was a Hyundai, so nothing extravagant, but very clean. So off we went.

Early in the trip Izzat was a little difficult to engage in conversation, but by the time we left Egypt he had warmed up to these two crazy Americans. He never wanted to be in a picture, however, and some of that might be because of his faith. Being Christian in Egypt is not illegal, but it’s also something of a disadvantage.

On our trip to the Mena House, Izzat was polite but distant. We observed the sites on the way out to Giza. Come back next week and I’ll tell you about our new favorite hotel.

DESTINATIONS, International, Road Trips, TRAVEL

The Electrical Emergency

September 13, 2017August 17, 2017 Jane Sadek

What do you think? Not bad for an old lady with an electrical emergency?

TRAVEL THERE: THAT MOMENT WHEN YOU HAVE TO PUNT

Bill’s taking a nap. Our clothes are pressed and ready to wear. It’s time to do my hair and make-up. What could go wrong?

The Electrical Emergency

We’d discovered an AC/DC outlet in the bathroom as soon as we arrived. We’d been recharging our phones since then without any trouble, so I assumed I wouldn’t have any difficulty with my hair appliances.

I’d had a hair appointment hours before I got on the plane and planned to put my own hair up into a French knot, using one of those long-fingered combs that makes it a relatively easy thing to do, even for me. This particular comb had rhinestones and pearls on it, so I thought I was going to be pretty cute. We all know that slightly dirty hair is easier to put up than when it’s freshly-washed, so I was all set. The finishing touch was going to be wispy tendrils all around my face and neckline to soften the look.

While Bill took his nap, I plugged in my tendril curling iron, whipped my hair into the French knot and put on my make-up. The tendril curling iron didn’t heat up. I’ve had it for a hundred years and don’t make tendrils very often, so I laughed at myself, thinking I’d carried a broken curling iron all the way to Egypt. Not to worry, I still had a regular barreled curling iron, electric curlers and a flat iron. Surely something would work. Nada!

I began to panic. The women in the family had suggested several times that I take advantage of the hairdresser who was coming to the hotel to do their hair. The bride had her own hairdresser, but everyone else was sharing another guy. I’m funny about my hair and usually when a new person does my hair they freak me out. I end up with a bouffant larger than something from the Sixties and want nothing more than to hide until it deflates. Right then the bouffant sounded pretty good. Sure I’d gotten my hair up into the French knot, but I needed tendrils.

Just about then, Mr. Bill woke up and, as calmly as I possibly could, I told him I needed his help with an electrical emergency. First he performed all the plug-ins and plug-outs I’d already performed, but that was fine. I hoped he’d hold his tongue just right and make everything better. That didn’t happen, but we did locate another AC/DC plug next to the desk, so we tried again. This time the tendril curling iron heated right up and I thought I was set. Mr. Bill headed into the bathroom and I pulled out various wisps of hair to curl.

I picked up the curling iron and was about to curl my first tendril when I realized smoke was coming out of the barrel. I ripped the plug out of the wall and tried the next curling iron. It wasn’t behaving properly either. I attempted a few curls, but I was scared the overly-hot implements were going to melt my hair. That’s all I needed to ruin my day – melted hair for the wedding and every other event for the balance of the trip.

I tried wrapping the tendrils around my fingers and spraying them with hair spray. Nope, Lori had done entirely too good of a job making my naturally curly hair straight. I couldn’t get it to curl for the life of me.

Thankfully, I had not pulled too many tendrils out or I would have had to start all over. It would have looked like my French knot had simply come untied. My look was not complete, but I had about 15 minutes to slide into my waiting clothes and get downstairs for pictures.

As I put on my dress and accessories, I had a talk with myself. This was Mariam’s day, not mine. I was not going to let a little electrical emergency ruin it for me. I thought I looked a little more severe than I had intended, but I’d just go with it and pretend I’d wanted this very sleek look.

On to the family photo session.

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

Wedding Morning Breakfast at the Fairmont

August 30, 2017August 22, 2017 Jane Sadek

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.

DESTINATIONS, International, Road Trips, TRAVEL

Wandering Around Heliopolis

August 16, 2017May 17, 2017 Jane Sadek

TRAVEL THERE: THE CRAZIEST TRAFFIC IN THE WORLD

Rent control isn’t the only problem in Egypt. Try finding a trashcan. If they were ever installed, they would probably be stolen. In Giza I saw what could have been a lovely square in the town center, but all that was left was the metal frame of several benches on stark concrete. The wooden slats had been removed and utilized elsewhere. Weeds had filled what was intended as a garden spot and a layer of dust covered everything. It was a small picture repeated in a variety of ways everywhere I looked.

Our Tour of Heliopolis Continues

While I had thought Mona’s neighborhood was pretty crazy last time I was in Egypt, on this trip, super-imposed on the already crowded and confusing landscape was a construction project of gargantuan magnitude. They are putting in an underground transit system. Forget any American construction site where thoroughfares are rerouted with the use of bright orange detour signs and interruptions. While these are frustrating, Americans usually keep these tangles contained in a manageable block of space. This entire section of town was a construction site and no attempt was made to provide passage.

I honestly don’t know how the people were living in the midst of it. All the main thoroughfares were blocked and side streets were all but impassable. Navigation consisted of winding through the every day insanity of triple-parked cars and vendors setting up shop in the middle of the street. And that was just the beginning of it.

I saw streets where 10-15 of the locals had dragged their lawn chairs (not that there were any lawns) out into the street for a good chat and smoke, while the detoured traffic tried to maneuver through the madness – spinning their steering wheels, honking their horns, waving their hands, lucky to make inches of progress and shouting their frustrations. On almost every block you would come upon a small child standing in the middle of the street, with or without shoes, absently holding a toy and gazing into the distance. Maybe they would move. Maybe they wouldn’t.

And that dust I’ve made so much of? The air was thick with it. It didn’t just show up in a layer on coffee tables, it was thick in the very air you breathed. I keep trying to figure out a way to explain it to you and all I can think to compare it to is an intense pinball machine, where the center section is completely blocked and the obstacles on the sides have been multiplied five-fold. You would have to be the pinball wizard to play, because telekinesis would be your only hope of moving the ball.

And Suddenly We Were There

The horrendous traffic was a blessing of sorts, because no one could throw me out of the car and drive away. I could walk faster than they could drive. Mirette suddenly turned into a parking lot and we were there. We were the ones parked in the third row of the three-deep cars.

Next was the elevator. I’m more of the stairs type, but I was warned away from them. The apartment was ten stories up and each story had several flights of uneven stairs. The elevator was so tiny that I didn’t know how Bill rode up with us with his extreme claustrophobia. There were two elevators and even though there were only three of us, when it would open on a floor (and it opened on every floor), the potential rider would glance into the car and then wave us on.

Entering the apartment was like entering a riot. Family members of all ages were spread throughout the rooms and in each room was the site of some kind of intense activity and none of the activities seemed related to what was going on in the other rooms. One room did have several children sleeping in a bed, but I don’t know how they managed to do so with all the racket.

I have more to tell you about the fun evening, but you’ll have to come back next week!

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