“For all of recorded human history, a patch of desert has been an intergenerational tourism attraction. Now it’s my turn to marvel” – Old Sean
A Slogging Airline Weekend
After a couple of weeks resting in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, I scored an exceptionally cheap online ticket deal to fly to Egypt.
While this initially seemed like a really smooth way to enjoy a weekend, there were several snags. The first was Egypt’s eVisa requirements, which is a fairly clunky government program that takes a long time to fill out while praying errors don’t crash the system. Additionally, there are plenty of sites which look more professional than the Egyptian government’s webpage, but they charge five times as much. The first links I explored offered me an Egyptian eVisa, but at $125 USD rather than the standard $25.
But even after purchasing a ticket, my flight was pushed back several hours, chopping off my available time in Egypt. Instead of having a full morning to casually explore, I would be arriving in the afternoon, crunching my timetable considerably.
Despite these hiccups, my eVisa situation was sorted and my flight time was confirmed, I went to the Saudi Arabian Riyadh International Airport in Riyadh and hopped on a plane for Egypt.
Airport Escapades
I’m not sure if I ever mentioned this in a previous post, but the Riyadh International Airport is superb. Getting in and out, handling security, finding lounge areas and exploring small bits of art makes it a swift, painless airport experience. I’ve been flying so much domestically since my arrival, I forgot to appreciate the smooth process Saudi Arabians have cultivated here. They treat all visitors like honored guests.
The Cairo airport cured me of that forgetfulness quickly. It’s a tragedy of unconnected systems and redundant security measures all piled behind long lines, clunky organization and a painful lack of adequate resources.
Exiting the plane doesn’t provide sound directions. There was a heaping line manned by three overwrought people allowing visitors into Egypt. Baggage claim had another security checkpoint which whittled away another twenty minutes to exit, and I didn’t even bring a bag.
Even once I had officially entered Egypt, the airport itself is a trap. There’s no WIFI available unless a person has an international or Egyptian number, to be purchased at an airport kiosk. Taxis are vastly overcharged, making exit impossible. The metro station, which has a stop near the airport, is specifically designed to prevent people from walking to it. If you ask employees to borrow a hotspot to get an Uber, they refuse, stating their under instructions not to do so.
I hate this kind of rampant manipulation. I never pay for that sort of thing, preferring to wildly inconvenience myself until I find another method. Out of vivid spite, I wandered the airport talking to foreigners until I found a lovely couple from Italy who had a pre-arranged Uber heading to the Pyramids of Giza.
And thus, I escaped the Cairo International Airport.
Bisected Highway
The Italian couple turned out to be enormously pleasant company for my drive. Marco and Francesca were polite, entertaining, well-spoken and insightful. We traded travel stories back and forth during the long drive, pointing out unique attractions on the horizon.
It’s worth briefly mentioning some of the sights.
Cairo architecture varies dramatically. The area around the Nile is filled with impressive skyscrapers and modern buildings. The traditional old town area, Old Cairo, is stocked with rambling streets and old, stained concrete buildings. The new town area is better organized with plain looking living areas. Traditional sites show domes and mosques in varying states of repair. Distant cliffs look reddish, crumbly and not entirely stable. And the slums are haphazard brick structures with jagged upper awnings, tiny windows and no visable light at night.
One of the strangest things about traveling through the Cairo road system is the strange patches of color on brick walls in the slum area. They look like half-finished panel artworks.
However, my friend Ahmed told me about these during his trip to Cairo. Those colored patches are actually interior wallpapers and tiles. The slum-brick apartments were in the way of the new major road, and the buildings were essentially cut in half. As a result, bright colors peer out at random intervals when people drive by.
Finally, like a shadowy cliff, the Pyramids of Giza started appearing behind buildings. Their presence in the distance is hard to describe, since they have the same gravity and lore as sacred mountains.
Slowly, we wove towards the pyramids, finally reaching the rather impressive array of hostels and hotels right at the pyramid’s gate boundaries.
Car Ride Conversations
While driving, my two Italian godsends and I chatted about the general state of the world and their travels. As Italian natives with experiences in Switzerland and London, they were interesting to speak with. Most impressive of all was their recent trip, which had brought them to various parts of Jordan.
At the time of this writing, the Middle East has fixed its collective attention on the events regarding Israel, Hamas and Palestine. The drama unfolding there has created a wave of fearmongering and paranoia I’ve not seen since the dawn of the depressingly recent Ukrainian-Russian War.
In Jordan, my Italian companions had an unexpectedly lovely tour. The region, despite its proximity to Israel, remains stable and tourism is still possible. My new car-companions told me about their tours of the area, including camping trips and explorations. They also spoke of the protests which were filling Amman, where after-prayer gatherings resulted in city-wide chants that literately shook valley-sides with sound.
And Stay Deaf
On that happy, conversational note, my little group arrived at the entrance to the pyramids. While the other two were prepared for their tour of the pyramids the following day, I opted to jump right in.
Now, as I’ve mentioned before on this blog, I don’t like tours. Independent tours are slightly more bearable, but I like learning, reading, walking and rambling off in odd directions at my own pace.
However, for anyone visiting the pyramids in the future, I highly recommend they get a tour guide. Not for info, insights or entertainment. But just to have someone to keep all the other hawkers and vultures far, far away.
The men rotating around the pyramids are fairly pushy, overly friendly, rediculously persistent and painfully skilled at entrapping tourists in exchange for money. They open gates and ask for fees you don’t need to pay, lead you places to buy more junk, offer to show you rocks for tips and take photos hoping for twenty dollar thank you gifts.
Deterring them is exhausting.
Before I entered, I decided to use my oldest evasion tactic. I’m half-deaf and I sometimes wear a musician’s earplug which looks fairly similar to a hearing aide. I plugged this in and immediately began a life as a deaf, mute visitors from Ireland (I often pretend to not be American, especially in times of political strife. Sometimes I put an Irish patch on my backpack to help sell the fiction.)
This was the right move. I bypassed horses, carriages and camels all clamoring to give me rides for a mere 500 Egyptian pounds I didn’t have. I also wanted to walk the pyramids under my own power. Other folks tried to sell me water, which I already had. Others tried to get me to pay to visit sites that were open access. Others offered cheap junk hoping for massive payouts.
Now, I understand that a vast number of Egyptians live below the poverty line. And I understand that they see foreigners, who are enormously wealthy by comparison, as perfect payouts.
But I can’t stand fending off people this frequently. I didn’t bring a lot of money with me to the pyramids. I just wanted to explore an ancient wonder under my own power in peace. As a result, I ignored people unless they got in my line of sight, at which point I tapped my earpiece hopelessly and kept walking.
I don’t think I’ll ever visit the pyramids again. Once is enough in life, considering the tourism hassle. But if I do, I’m hiring a guide to keep everyone else away, and lowering his tip anytime someone tries to sell me something.
Most Ancient and Grand
With all my griping about the tourist vultures, I don’t want readers to assume I didn’t enjoy the pyramids. I did, immensely, especially when I escaped the crowds and got to wander on my own.
It was an amazing time, laying fingers on stones so old they defied my understanding of time. The desert, harsh as she is, was beautiful and filled with smaller, adjacent ruins. While I could have lived without the smell of baked camel dung, the overall visage was amazing.
This was land ancient when Julius Caesar was destroying the Roman Republic and laying the groundwork for the Roman Empire. These were elder monuments when the Greeks were forming city states. On many levels, it defies logic.
Over the next few hours, I scrambled every direction I could.
I looked at wares from the tourist trap sections. I drew near the sphynx, glancing at the various pigeons perched on its worn face. I snuck into the Tomb of Queen Khentkawes, melding with an unsuspecting tourist group for a few moments.
I walked far past the famed overlook ridges, evading trotting camels to kick around various shallow desert valleys. I walked past the Pyramid of Menkaure, the Pyramids of Queens, the Pyramid of Khafre, the Giza Necropolis, the West Field at Giza, the Mastaba of Hemiuni and the Tomb of the Birds.
Every moment away from hawkers was filled with wonder-like bliss. Moments where people drew near were annoying, but avoidable for the most part.
Town Man Loop
After finally leaving the pyramids and avoiding various cries from people asking what country I was from, I rested at a cafe drinking mint tea while waiting for my next Uber.
Lo and behold, I ran into Marco and Francesca once more by chance for a quick hello and a speckled bit of advice regarding exploring the pyramids tomorrow.
After leaving the area by Uber, I spent some time simply observing the city. Cairo isn’t exactly clean or well-put together, but it’s certainly interesting. A lot of it is haphazard, like a tent-slum-turned-brick. There are plenty of towers, strange artworks, overflowing liter bins, sugar cane farms bundled into teepees, lounging palm trees, nightmare construction projects, tilting signs on walls, flashy cars and neon-accented mosques.
After driving for some time, I hopped out near the Nile, deciding to enjoy a walk up and down the river for the night. I avoided barking dogs and enjoyed the river view. There are plenty of junker boats giving tours on the river, lit up with tacky Christmas lights, sometimes in the shape of Batman symbols.
When my stomach started to rumble, I opted to take Ahmed’s advice and went to Pier 88, an Italian bar and eatery overlooking the waterway.
Company and Conversation
Criminally underdressed, I walked inside and gaped slightly. Pier 88 is nice, but what surprised me most were the people sitting at the table next to mine.
Francesca and Marco from my airport ride waved at me, all of us making sheepish expressions. They were kind enough to assume I wasn’t stalking them and invited me to join them for a drink. I enjoyed the invitation wonderfully, as these are lovely people and sparkling conversationalists.
After our cocktails were finished, the couple left and I ordered some excellent Italian food to enjoy while I read my book. Though I was getting sleepy, my night wasn’t over yet.
Uber Misery
For some reason, getting around Cairo is a repetitive hassle. If I ever return, I’m going to hire an all-day driver to help me navigate the city without all these cancelled and missed Ubers.
When I finally found a car which would take me to my Airbnb, I was running very late indeed. My host was nice enough, but I could tell he had been waiting for a while.
It didn’t help that my Uber dropped me off in the wrong location and then asked for an excessive tip. My Airbnb wasn’t exactly easy to find either, a hidden narrow stairwell leading up to a finely appointed, if small, room
After a full-speed day, I didn’t even remember laying down. I simply passed out.
Cairo Hikes
Luckily, my alarm was still running and Cairo is in the same time zone as Riyadh. I awoke in the morning to do some secondary explorations..
I began walking around the downtown portion of Old Cairo. Unsurprisingly, most everything was closed and I merely had the chance to stretch my legs. While Cairo isn’t especially clean or pretty, it’s very easy to walk around. The directions are pretty clear and the sidewalks are wide. Everything a person could need is in walking distance.
When things finally started opening, I grabbed a coffee from a cute and quiet bistro with Jurassic Park playing on a flatscreen. Then, I caught my Uber to my last Egyptian destination before my flight home.
I wanted to see the Baron Empain Palace, a unique architectural marvel en route to the airport. The mansion is highly visible from the road and close enough to make the airport easy to reach right afterwards.
The Baron Empain Palace
The palace turned out to be far more interesting and enjoyable than I was expected. Strange crested birds with striped wings hopped along the grass. The garden area was bright and lush with vividly red flowers growing over hedges. There were numerous old car models protected in the shade. The building itself proved to be quite the eye-catching masterpiece.
When Empain built his strange castle, he drew in elements from various art and culture. The site is filled with Romantic wood carvings, European marble staircases, Roman statues and Greek images. But the palace has a bizarre but pleasing mash-up of other elements, including towering spires, Hindi dieties, strange elephant carvings, images of Asian demons, unique hanging pedestals and much more. Naturally, Egyptian patterns are also found in the mix, making the entire structure a stunning combination of intermingled cultures.
Once I was finished at the palace, I opted to go exploring in the surrounding area. While this didn’t result in too many points of interest, I did get a nice pasta meal and enjoy some pink outdoor decorations before getting one last Uber to the airport.
Reflections
I don’t think I’ll return to Egypt again unless I have a week or three to spare. The country is too disorganized to fly into easily and existing takes a heap of time.
I had to go through a total of six different security checkpoints just to get into the airport, which used a combination of old school written forms, high tech scanning devices, slogging pat-down checks and clunky conveyer belts. It’s like the airport attempted to upgrade but kept all of the older methods for security, outdated some twenty years now.
When I finally boarded my half-empty plane, I snagged a window seat and started writing. Every half hour or so, I glanced out the window to see the land shifting below, from desert, to Red Sea, to rocky, low mountains to strange circle deserts.
In truth, I don’t think I’ll go back to Egypt for some time. If I go again, it’ll have to be for a far longer visit than a day or two. Getting in and out of the airport and city is just too much of a time sink to make it worthwhile otherwise.
For now though, I’m content. I visited a wonder of the world, enjoyed my time on the Nile and wandered a city for strange architecture alongside friendly Italians.
Overall, it wasn’t a bad trip.
Until next time,
Best regards and excellent trails,
Old Sean
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Ten years ago, I abandoned my military surplus store backpack for a Farpoint 40 Osprey Travel Pack. I’ve never replaced my bag since. Two years ago, I bought two more Osprey Backpacks for my younger siblings on their first tour outside the country. I have nothing but praise for Osprey Products.
