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When it came to our getting to Egypt, the third time was the charm. After two postponements, once because of conflicting schedules and once due to war in Iraq, we finally arrived in Cairo on the morning of November 12th. The flight itself was a memorable experience. In all my hours in the air, this was the first time I'd encountered passengers congregated in the aisles--to pray. Most of the Egypt Air passengers were Muslims and it was the holy month of Ramadan. Nonetheless, I did get a wee bit nervous, when the first batch of turbaned gentlemen grouped together near the lavatory. For a brief moment, I thought there might be trouble, but they just wanted to spread their prayer rugs where space was available. Praying aside, the remainder of the eleven hour flight between New York and Cairo went without a hitch. The crew, nearly all-male were exceptionally courteous. In fact, the food, along with the service was better than on some American airlines I've flown lately. In Cairo, our stay was arranged at the Sheraton Heliopolis near the airport. It had all the typical amenities, including internet access for a reasonable price. Having traveled so far from home, we were pleased to send messages daily to our housesitter and relatives. For the Cairo portion of the journey, we were allotted two guides and a driver. Since he was a butcher in his other job, we immediately began calling our driver Ali the Butcher. Doesn't that sound like something out of Lawrence of Arabia? In reality, Ali was a large, jovial fellow, who smiled most of the time, although his English was limited to hello and goodbye. After witnessing the traffic in Cairo, I have nothing but the greatest appreciation for Ali the Butcher. You must be fearless to cope with that type of driving! I could barely watch as we moved throughout the city. They have their own style of maneuvering around, which apparently works, at least most of the time. After seeing countless TV shows about the pyramids of Giza, actually viewing them up close took on a surreal quality. My inner voice kept repeating, "I'm really here, I'm really here!" North Webster, Indiana, the small town where I grew up, never seemed so far away. A limited number of tourists per day are allowed inside the largest pyramid called the Great Pyramid of Khufu (Cheops). Thanks to the tourism office, we were on the list. Climbing hunched over due to the pitch of the walls, we made our way up the steep stairs. I was stiff for the next three days, due to the awkward position, but would climb it again in a heartbeat. I was hoping for a camel ride, preferably near the pyramids and my goal was achieved. Once the price was agreed, the camel handlers made a big ceremony about winding turbans around our heads. Correctly adorned for desert trekking, I swung my leg over as instructed. Getting into the saddle wasn't too bad, however I did have a flash of panic when the beast started to get up. Somehow I gripped tight and stayed on! The pyramids were in full view to our left during the entire ride and it was nearly impossible to look away. There wasn't much on the right side anyway, but barren sand and rocks. A fitting Arab proverb reads: Man fears time, yet time fears the pyramids. Grinning like kids on Christmas morning, we bumped along for at least twenty minutes before reaching a good vantage point for photos. Once stopped, our camel handlers took photographs and another gentleman on a donkey rode up, bringing us soft drinks. I didn't consume all my Sprite and jokingly told the fellow to let the donkey drink it and he did, calling "look lady, look lady." After our rest we returned to base camp, exhilarated. One of our Cairo evenings was set aside for a Nile dinner cruise. The vessel was embellished with black and gold ancient Egyptian symbols in colossal proportions. Horus the Falcon God stood proudly at the rear of the ship, at least eight feet tall. We boarded about 4:30, which seemed early. However, during the religious month, the majority of Egyptians want to eat right at the stroke of 5:00 and this held true on the dinner cruise. For those who follow the faith, no eating or drinking is allowed between 5 a.m. and 5 p.m, during Ramadan. So as you might expect, at 5 p.m. everyone is hungry. Gradually, servers filled our table with all sorts of delicious food, hot and cold. Ali the Butcher and our guides waited patiently and when the clock struck 5, we all ate. The cruise included some live music, but was over in two hours. We can say we cruised the Nile, if only for a brief time. After four busy days in Cairo, our driver Ali the Butcher and one of our guides collected us early for a flight to Hurghada on the Red Sea. We said bleary-eyed goodbyes, but not for good, since we would return to Cairo for our flight home. Labeled the Red Sea Riviera, Europeans and Russians have been vacationing along this beach for years. Americans, on the other hand, are less familiar with the region. Since my spouse is a scuba diver, the chance to dive the Red Sea was a rare opportunity, anticipated as much as seeing the pyramids. I kept my fingers crossed that all would go as planned, since he hauled his gear such a long way. Our lodging was arranged at Paradise Golden Five, a complex of five hotels. Tired as I was, the drive from the airport to our hotel kept my attention. To the left, beach resorts banked the coast, but on the right, it was all desert. The landscape was barren, nothing but brownish-gray rocks and sand; it could have been the surface of the moon. I saw three "unmanned" camels walking along, otherwise the view was inhospitable terrain as far as the eye could see. In appearance, the Paradise Golden Five was similar to other beach resorts, with a spacious lobby, several bars and restaurants. As soon as we checked in, Brett hurried off to inquire about diving and I unpacked. Our 4th floor room had a sweeping view of both the pool and the sea, quite a contrast to the urban setting of Cairo we had left that morning. I was soon off exploring. Shops lined the lower level of the hotel and I ventured into one, which displayed small perfume bottles. Unique and easy to pack, I fell in love with the decorative bottles and purchased six.
Somehow his tone inferred the European guests didn’t measure up on the "visitors scale" at least when compared to Americans, but I didn’t inquire further. Maybe Americans are better tippers—who knows? I had tea and chatted with three shop owners in a row until I couldn’t face another drop of tea, no matter how much they wanted to converse. More than once at this resort I was asked, "When are the Americans coming back?" I had no good answer, other than to say we’re still getting over fears from September 11th. In all honesty, I never felt unsafe while we were in Egypt. The resort offered water activities and had a sizeable pool area. Lounging poolside you could easily forget this was the Middle East and mistake it for a Caribbean island. At meal times, the main restaurant was a throng of people of all nationalities. It’s a wonder the Egyptian waiters could communicate! As it turned out the dive operation at the Golden Five was run by Germans rather than Egyptians. However, when it came to dive instructions everyone spoke English. Brett managed five dives including one at night. He was impressed with the variety and abundance of marine life not found elsewhere. It was a big thrill for him to see his first Lionfish. Our next stop was Luxor, a city I’d longed to see, since reading Agatha Christie and Elizabeth Peters both of whom set novels in Egypt. We were scheduled to make the journey in a tourist caravan. I envisioned six or eight buses and a few vans, traveling together for safety. Given that gas stations and habitation of any sort was limited, the caravan made sense. Boy did I get those numbers wrong! On the morning of our departure, at least fifty tour buses had gathered at the rendezvous point, along with thirty or more vans and private cars. At the appointed time, the buses pulled out one by one and our van joined the long line. The large number in the caravan was proof (to me at least) that people continue to visit Egypt, even in turbulent times. Luxor fulfilled my expectations. Hugging the Nile, the city is far smaller than Cairo and not nearly as frantic. We visited the Karnak Temple complex, both during the day and at night to see the Sound and Light show. Albeit filled with modern-day tourists, I felt the persistent, long reach of ancient Egyptians. The Valley of the Kings lies near Luxor. Arriving early due to the heat, we climbed down the steps into King Tut’s tomb as so many visitors have done before us. It felt like a pilgrimage and everyone back home would surely ask if we’d seen the tomb. Having a love for historic hotels, I requested a stop at the Winter Palace, a famous Luxor landmark. The hotel has hosted dignitaries through the years. Howard Carter, who found King Tut’s tomb stayed often at the hotel. While in Luxor, I couldn’t resist buying a copy of Death on the Nile, by Agatha Christie. I’d read it twice already but this reading was the best. If you have the option in Luxor, stay at the Sonesta St. George. The Nile view, food and service were all exceptional. For more information about visiting Egypt, begin your search at www.touregypt.net.
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