Weeks ago, I booked a tour for Saturday to see the Giza pyramids and the Sphinx. Once again, the housesit dictated my plans. I had specified my pick up location for 6 October City, where the housesit was located. When that fell through, I sent messages right away to all the tour operators asking them to confirm my new pickup location at my Airbnb. This was also weeks ago. I had no responses. I sent more messages just before I left.
This was all done through TripAdvisor, which I think is now Viator, or maybe they’re affiliated? I don’t know.
I had nothing planned for Friday, which turned out to be a good thing as I spent the better part of that day trying to ensure my drivers and guides would come to the right address. I made multiple attempts to get hold of tour operators, tried to get TripAdvisor to get hold of my tour operators, in fact, tried to get any kind of help from Trip Advisor, which they make it pretty much impossible to do.
Eventually I decided to cancel the tours I had booked for later in the week and re-book them with the new address for pick up. I had already prepaid. I could still cancel the later ones for free at that date, but if I delayed, I’d end up having the same pick up address problem that I was facing with the pyramid tour on Saturday.
The cancellations worked fine. But when I tried to re-book those tours, nope. For whatever reason, on Friday TripAdvisor seemed unable to complete any bookings.
Putting that problem aside for later, I decided to go in search of an Egyptian SIM card for my phone. I reasoned that I could then call the pyramids tour operator and speak to them directly. Or call the toll free number for TripAdvisor.
Did I mention it was Friday? Yeah, the Muslin holy day. As I walked though the streets, most of the stores (such as they are around here) were closed. So was Mobile Me. Doh!
I had also made a note of a grocery store nearby, so I went around the corner in search of supplies. There was another Mobile Me and this one was open. Yay!
Life is a rollercoaster ain’t it?
The nice young man didn’t speak much English (and why should he, it’s Egypt after all) but we managed to communicate and he signalled he could sell me an Orange Sim card for $20 US. He opened up my phone and exchanged the SIM cards.
Thirty minutes later, he was still trying to get the SIM card operational. Mostly the problem seemed to be there was no wifi signal, or the signal would drop. The irony of a tech store where there was a lousy connection was not lost on me, but in fairness, poor wifi is a problem all over Egypt. I have seen it remarked on many times.
He went out on the street. He came back. He went out. He came back. Occasionally I would hear a voice from the phone saying something in Arabic and I would distinguish “Orange”. I sat there dreading the moment when he would give up.
But no, eventually he mimed that the card was hooked up to the provider and should be working within an hour or two at most. If it wasn’t, I should come back. So kind.
After I got my bits and bobs of groceries (thankfully, the little grocery store was open) and came back to the Airbnb, sure enough, I had a working Egyptian phone. Next order of business was to call the tour operator.
Hands up everyone who has had trouble figuring out what numbers they are supposed to omit and what numbers they are supposed to include when making local phone calls in a foreign country, or are making International calls in their own, or a foreign country. I’m not sure I have ever succeeded in making an actual phone call from my iPhone. I’ve received calls for sure. But even in Cuenca, with a phone with a SIM card from Cuenca, I still have problems.
Same here. Egyptian numbers go like this – +20 1234567891. I tried dropping the 20, figuring that is the country code. Nope. I tried adding the 20. Nope. I had no idea where to find the plus sign, so that was a non-starter. Faint, but pursuing (as the bible says), I took myself, my key card and my phone down to the lobby.
In the hall at a desk, sat another nice young man (now I’m old I understand why all the old lades say that). I interrupted his work on his laptop and he politely took his earbuds out. He spoke very good English. I explained my problem, handed him the phone and the phone number and awaited developments. “Oh,” he said, “you drop the ‘2’ and start with the ‘0’.
There’s always a trick.
We dialed the number together and it rang. And rang. And rang.
I tried again several times that afternoon. No answer, ever. And forget about trying to call Trip Advisor. Their toll free number which is the only communication method I could find, doesn’t seem to work in Egypt.
Meanwhile, I got in touch with Mohamed from Egypt Royal Tours. He, alone among the various tour operators I had given money to via TripAdvisor, had not only gotten in touch with me as soon as I booked his tour (Old Coptic Cairo and the Cave Church of St. Simon – intriguing, no?), he had immediately found me on WhatsApp and offered help with any other tours or transportation I needed. He arranged my car from the airport. He put together a custom tour according to my specifications for mosques.
I had sought his help after exchanging numerous emails with two other tour operators supposedly offering custom private tours, who ignored everything I asked for that was, in fact custom, and just kept coming back with the same cookie cutter itinerary.
So what to do about the tours I couldn’t get re-booked through TripAdvisor? Message Mohamed!
He came back at 10:00 that night and said he could arrange the other tours.
So if anyone else is coming to Cairo, get in touch with Mohamed at Egypt Royal Tours!! https://www.facebook.com/Halarakika/
Meanwhile back to the immediate problem. I had decided to leave the pick up for the pyramid tour on the laps of the old gods. Short of getting up at 5:00 a.m. and getting a taxi somehow to take me to the address in 6 October City, some 30 kms away, what choice did I have?
Did the ancient Egyptians have a god of tour arrangements? I don’t know, but to my infinite relief, that afternoon about 5:30, I got a WhatsApp message from Mostafa, announcing himself as my tour guide and saying the driver would meet me at 8:00 the next morning. I asked if he had received the messages about my new location. He never said. Only replied “Send it”. Which of course I did.
So I was able to go to bed without worrying that my guide and driver would be in 6 October City while I waited hopelessly on Zamalek Island.
Next morning, Mostafa and Imad (the driver, who name I’m sure I’m spelling wrong) were waiting when I went downstairs. Off we went. We crossed the Nile.
We proceeded down a fairly wide avenue. At one point I made a note that we had driven for 20 minutes without a break in the rows of apartment buildings lining the broad avenue.
Sometimes it seems there is nothing in Cairo except pyramids and apartment buildings.
Eventually, signs mentioned Giza. Then we rounded a corner and there was the Great Pyramid looming over the building on the left, the dreamy blue Egyptian sky behind it.
I was dumbstruck. Which doesn’t happen that often to me, as you know.
Another few bends and turns and we had arrived. There were buses and buses of people being disgorged in front of the building that held the ticket offices and security entry point.
One thing that interests me about Egypt so far is the almost complete lack of tourist facilities at highly trafficked tourist sites, like the pyramids. No gift shops, no restaurants. The monuments are it, aside from the individuals hawking their T-shirts and plastic Nefertitis and scarves. What a waste of a revenue generating opportunity.
Mostafa left to go get the tickets. I backed up and stood with my eyes fixed on what I could see of the pyramid.
When I did tear my eyes away, I saw that there was also a great view of Cairo behind me.
It was amusing to watch a young man feeding something to a mother dog and her two puppies. I guess mama was wolfing down all the food before the youngsters could get to it. He kept trying to lure her apart and then quickly turn around and give other bits to the pups. But they followed mama, and would jump up and lick her mouth, instead of going directly to the source of the food.
Mostafa returned, we passed our bags through security and then there we were. The Great Pyramid confronted us, with the smaller, but still monumental pyramid of Khafre (Chephren in Greek) to the right and behind. The still smaller pyramid of Menkaure couldn’t be seen from that vantage point.
Back when Star Trek introduced the idea of the holodeck, John and I had a lively debate. You know, back in those almost forgotten days, when the internet, let alone virtual reality, was science fiction. The question was, when we had the equivalent of the holodeck, would there still be any need to travel?
John was happy to think he wouldn’t have to leave his pets and pack a suitcase, but could just go through a door to see the pyramids or whatever took his fancy. I argued that there are some works of both humans and nature that have to be experienced in person.
After we visited the Grand Canyon, he agreed with me. I would add some other works to that select company – the Winged Victory of Samothrace in the Louvre, with its feeling of being about to erupt into motion, Michaelangelo’s David, pretty much any gothic cathedral, Guernica, the prehistoric cave art in France and Spain, the Gate and Processional Way of Ishtar from Babylon in the Pergamon Museum in Berlin.
There are others.
I don’t know what makes some of these transcendent, but only in real time and space, while others, though interesting and exciting to see in person, did not lift my mind and soul in the same way. And likely it’s different for everyone.
For me, the Great Pyramid of Giza turns out to be one of those transcendent experiences.
I was astounded at the sheer size. The feeling of immense weight. Even though I, like every modern person, has seen buildings and constructions that likely outdo it in mass, there is something about the perfect proportions, the majestic height, and no doubt, its situation on the flat desert sands, that demands your attention, your awe, your humility even.
At the same time, I felt like it was floating. The light in Egypt is extraordinary. A clear, clear sky. A brilliant sun. And the faint colour in the air from the drifting desert sands. The pyramid draws the eye upwards to the sun. Amun-Re, the solar disk.
No wonder it featured so prominently in Egyptian religion.
I don’t know what else to say. I was mesmerized and fascinated and could have stayed there for hours, just staring.
Whether or not Khufu is watching all this from the afterlife, there is no doubt, that he has achieved at least one kind of immortality.
Meanwhile, I tried to drag my eyes away from the pyramid and pay attention to poor Mostafa, who was giving me a talk about the history of the pyramids and Egypt in general. Most of which I knew, but of course I didn’t say so.
This isn’t me boasting. It’s just, I’ve been reading about Egypt, watching documentaries, taking Prof. Bob Brier’s 36 part Great Courses about Egypt (twice), and generally giving my attention to all things ancient Egypt since I read my first Egypt-based historical novel at about 12 years old.
With the prevalence of ancient Egypt in popular culture everywhere, probably anyone who is interested enough to plow through this blog post, has a pretty good general idea about the pyramids. But for the record, here are some of the facts. I’ll try (?!) to keep it short.
Upper and lower Egypt were unified into one kingdom around 3150 B.C. by a warrior king named Menes, or Narmer.
It blows my mind, that the country of Egypt, pretty much as it exists today, has been around for nearly five thousand years. Not just the culture, but the nation state.
At that point, pharaohs were buried underground in a chamber at the bottom of a long shaft. This would be topped by a relatively low, flat-roofed bench-like mud brick structure, called a mastaba.
Along comes a Pharaoh named Djoser. His architect has a revolutionary idea. He will build for King Djoser’s interment, a stone monument, which in effect, will become the first pyramid. The Step Pyramid visibly takes the idea of mastabas one ‘step’ further, or in fact – six steps. Layers and levels, one on top of another.
I am visiting that monument later, so more about it then. The point is to realize that the Great Pyramid did not just spring up as a fully formed idea. Khufu built on the ideas of his ancestor Djoser, as well as Sneferu’s Bent Pyramid and Red Pyramid. The latter is considered the first true, smooth-sided pyramid in Egypt.
Enter Khufu, who decides to outdo them all. His pyramid, at around 481 feet (146.6 metres) was the tallest manmade structure in the world for some 3800 years, until Lincoln Cathedral in 1311. If you go by non-habitable constructions, it was not surpassed until the Eiffel Tower in 1889.
The pyramids of Giza stand on a low hillock. A strip around the perimeter was levelled to form a base. It has been proven to be horizontal and flat to within 21 millimetres (0.8 in). I’ve lived in houses whose foundations were not as level as that.
The four sides of the base have an average error of only 58 millimetres (2.3 inches) in length and the finished base was squared to a corner error of only 12 seconds of arc.
The sides of the Great Pyramid’s base are closely aligned to the four cardinal points of the compass, deviating on average 3 minutes and 38 seconds of arc, or about a tenth of a degree.
An incredible feat of engineering proficiency.
It was built of an estimated 2.3 million blocks with total estimated weight of some 6 million tons. A smart person named Frank Burgos conducted a study to see if it was even possible for that many blocks to be quarried and cut and moved into place during the lifetime of Khufu. Yes, it was possible. It would have taken 3,500 quarry-men producing 250 blocks per day to complete the Great Pyramid in 27 years.
Most of the blocks were quarried at Giza just south of the pyramid. They are a particular type of limestone which is formed from the fossils of thousands of prehistoric shell creatures.
Fun fact – some fossilized shark teeth have been found in the blocks and other structures on the site.
The pyramids of Giza were originally enclosed by white limestone blocks and casings, to form smooth sides. Some of this casing can still be seen at the top of Khafre’s pyramid, although the limestone has dulled to brown across the millennia. The materials used for the casing were transported by boat across the Nile from the Tura quarries, about 10 km (6.2 mi) southeast of the Giza plateau.
But the granite stones in the pyramid were transported all the way from Aswan, more than 900 km (560 mi) south. Lucky they had the Nile to do most of the work, because the largest stones weigh 25 to 88 tons. They form the ceilings of the “King’s chamber” and the relieving chambers above it.
When completed, the pyramids would have each had a capstone. The one from the Great Pyramid was already missing in antiquity. Some Romans who visited, reported a platform at the top. It’s now about 26 feet shorter than it was with the capstone.
The original entrance has been uncovered. It has a row of double chevrons to divert weight away from the door. Several of these chevron blocks are also missing.
Since the discovery of settlements for workers in front of Khefre’s (smaller) pyramid, it is now generally accepted that the pyramids were not built by slaves. No pharaoh would have let slaves dwell, even temporarily, so close to the site of Pharaoh.
Other indications are that the workers were either paid, or conscripted labour.
One of the interesting things about these pyramids is that there are no paintings, no sculptures, no inscriptions, no names or honorific or tales of heroic deeds – no decorations of any kind either inside or out. It perplexes me that an absolute monarch with an ego big enough to conceive this mighty work, which still ensures his immortality in the 21st century, should not have put his name on it. We only know it is Khufu’s because it was attributed to him by Roman and Greek authors. And then in 1837, chambers and passages were discovered which contained worker’s marks and graffiti, mentioning Khufu.
That’s enough technical detail. You don’t need to know anything about its dimensions and construction to simply be awe-struck on seeing it. For the same reason, I didn’t go inside. There is nothing to be seen except the big burial chamber with a large, empty sarcophagus. I didn’t fancy having my imaginative high brought low by clambering up and through dark, narrow passages only for that.
Next stop was the camels. On the way we passed the smallest of the three main pyramids, Menkaure’s.
The camels are located on a hill behind the pyramids, which gives a great panoramic view of the site.
Mostafa led me over to my prearranged mount. The camel seemed calmer than me. He was kneeling, which brought the saddle area on his hump only up to about my chin.
I was invited to put my left foot into an iron stirrup and step up and over. The stepping up part was fine, but for a minute I didn’t think my right knee was going to co-operate in getting itself over the literal hump, which then was still higher than my waist. However, I was determined not to be hauled up by the waiting, grinning assistants, so I kind of half climbed and half threw myself and up I got.
Go me!
There was a little bit of a moment when my camel heaved himself to his feet, rocking me as if I was in a boat in heavy seas, but we both survived and off we plodded.
I thought I could hear the theme music from Lawrence of Arabia playing somewhere in the sky. I couldn’t stop grinning.
It was a timeless scene worthy of epic poems for sure. Yes, the camels were all being ridden by tourists, but from a distance, it could have been thousands of years ago.
I managed to let go of my death grip on the saddle horn, get my phone out and take some photos and a video.
I’d have to say the camel ride was much more comfortable than many horses I’ve been on. My camel was a sociable guy and kept heading off to butt noses with the others going in the opposite direction.
Meanwhile the guide chatted me up.
“Where are you from?”
“Canada”
“Oh, Canada is the best country.”
I’m sure had I said Norway or Ghana or India, it also would have been the best country. Guy wanted his tip.
When we reached the peak of the hill, he took my camera and took the wonderful shots you see here.
Staying aboard while my camel re-settled himself on the ground was touch and go. But I didn’t fall off, so I take that as a win.
I’m so glad I did it.
I returned to my driver and guide. We drove down to the Sphinx.
Here is a good example of what I was talking about earlier. The Sphinx is impressive, the history is interesting, I’m really glad I saw it, but I had no emotional reaction to it.
Napoleon’s soldiers did not shoot off its nose. This atrocity was committed by a devout Muslim in the 1300s, who was angered at locals still leaving offerings there to the old gods and pharaohs.
The ceremonial beard fell off in antiquity, as attested to by Greek and Roman visitors, and was eventually carted off to the British Museum where it still resides.
Those British collected the treasures of half the nations in the world and what they didn’t get, the French and Germans did.
It is not permitted for the tourist rabble to go right up to the Sphinx. The people you see in the photos sitting in front of the paws of the great lion are special, being lectured to by Zawi Hawass, a giant figure in the world of Egyptian antiquities and archaeology.
I’ve seen him in documentaries. He is a somewhat controversial figure, but my guide was clearly a fanboy. He proudly pulled up a photo on his phone of him and Dr. Hawass to show me that he had touched the Great Man.
I wonder how much Dr. Hawass was raking in from those privileged to sit at the feet of the Sphinx?
We then left the pyramid compound and made our way to a ‘papyrus institute’. I assumed maybe this was a museum of some kind, but no. It was basically a shop.
They make, paint on and sell papyruses under the guise of education – this taking the form of a little lesson in papyrus making before the sales job starts.
Some of the art is on a par with paintings of Elvis on black velvet.
I enjoyed it though. The lady who gave me my lesson was very knowledgeable.
She broke into a big smile when I identified the goddess Mut, arching over the earth as the night sky. I knew this from – yes – that first novel I read set in ancient Egypt, when I was 12.
My determination not to buy anything faltered when faced with a lovely depiction of Mut. I succumbed and bought the piece featuring her, as well as one of the goddess Maat – she who embodies law, morality and justice.
And a sweet scene from Tutankhamen’s tomb, depicting the love between him and his wife. I paid two bucks to have John’s and my names inked on it in hieroglyphs.
Plus a cat.
I don’t have specific photos of them because the ‘institute’ rolled them and wrapped them and put them in a tube. If I unpack them, I have no tape to secure them again.
Next up was a store where they make essential oils. At the entrance, a man was making small glass bottles and diffusers over a torch flame.
The diffusers have a bottom sort of cup, just big enough to hold a tea light candle. A small reservoir arches above, where the oil goes to be heated by the candle and disperse its scent into the air.
Then I was led into a room with benches along the walls.
A staff member gave me a piece of paper with a list of various scents on it.
Some oils, he said, are simply perfumed. Some allegedly have medicinal properties and uses.
Some, like the lotus oil, have been used since antiquity. I would choose which oils I wished to try and he would give me samples to put on my skin. The oils could also be put into the diffusers. And in some cases, like orange blossom, you can put a drop or two into hot water or soup and drink it for stomach problems.
It was such fun! The staff guy told me about the oils and their properties while I sat on a bench, sipping hibiscus juice of all things.
He told me how to make it from my own hibiscus flowers when I return. He even knew Ottawa and Tim Horton’s!
I tried about ten of the oils. Did you know that myrrh is used as a massage oil, for the relief of pain, especially arthritis? It is almost like a jelly. My guy poured some on my hands and encouraged me to rub it in. Nice. Also, almond oil on my arms and elbows felt wonderful. It is supposed to be good for skin complaints – dry skin, psoriasis, eczema and such. These oils absorbed really quickly. They didn’t linger in my skin to soak into my clothes.
Lotus oil is supposed to be good for nervous complaints – depression, anxiety. It smells beautiful too. The oil from the papyrus flower has a clean, crisp grassy scent and helps with short term memory.
He urged me to try mint, which he said is great for sinuses and respiratory things. I wasn’t that interested because I know what mint smells like. Undeterred, he put a few drops in a cup of hot water. Oh my gods, I’ve never sniffed such a potent brew. Even a couple of breaths cleared out the old sinuses like nobody’s business.
I got carried away and spent $300 on four different oils. I could have had the same volume of oil in a big bottle for $100, but that would be just one scent and where’s the fun in that? I chose lotus, papyrus, heliotope and the initially despised mint. I also got three little hand blown glass perfume bottles and a glass diffuser included in that price.
When I got back I realised that even small glass bottles full of oil are, um, very heavy?? And I have seven and more weeks to lug them around. Oh well. I am the Edith Piaf of touristic buying – je ne regrette rien!
Lunch was lovely too. A small bowl of very good creamy onion soup, a larger clay bowl of white beans in a very fresh and tangy tomato juice or soup, grilled chicken pieces and rice and fries.
The best was a selection of little dishes. Baba ghanoush (eggplant and tahini, and garlic), tahini, a white curd-like substance they were calling cheese which was like no cheese I ever ate, but was really tasty, pickles and pickled vegetables, and roasted eggplant, all served with pita.
I had a glass of fresh mango juice that still had pulp. All very tasty.
A day I will remember for all my life. And in the afterlife if I prove to share the pharaoh’s immortality.
I’m so glad I came to Egypt.
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