Egypt
| Post date – October 2004
Our passports received their Egyptian entry stamp on a ferry traveling
through a branch of the Red Sea from Aqaba, Jordan to Nuweiba, Egypt.
The ferry ride was pleasant… the port of Nuweiba was pretty miserable.
After disembarking and exiting the terminal building, no one was allowed
to depart the port area for the next 45 minutes. No particular reason
was given – tour buses were sitting on the other side of the fence,
people were sitting in their cars in queues… it was an interesting
introduction to Egypt. In hindsight, we should have taken it as an omen
of the total non-sense of much of what we would encounter in our Egyptian
travels.
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Three relics of antiquity – the Sphinx,
Bramwell Ryan and the Pyramid of Khafre - in Giza (near Cairo), Egypt. |
Our waiting in the port area was not for departure from the terminal,
but for the representative from the bus company from which we were planning
to buy our bus tickets to Cairo to arrive. After sitting for close to
90 minutes with two Jordanian air force officers on holiday and an Egyptian
businessman, we were informed by the tourist police (there are police
for everything in the Middle East!) that there would be no Superjet bus
to Cairo that day. (This information came about 20 minutes after the other
bus leaving for Cairo had departed.) Frustrated, Bram and the other three
stranded passengers agreed that we should seek out a taxi or some other
sort of transport for which we could split the costs. Twenty minutes later
we left the port area and were greeted by a beat-up bus that was heading
for Cairo. Without too many other options, frazzled by the 40C heat, and
unwilling to spend the night in Nuweiba, we boarded the bus for an eight
and a half hour journey to Cairo.
Needless to say, that was not our best travel day of the trip. Breakfast in
Aqaba had consisted of dry pita bread and jam, lunch sitting in the port
of Nuweiba had been a bottle of water and a sleeve of cookies, and dinner
on the bus was a couple of small bags of chips, soft drinks and a few
more cookies. Travel across the Sinai was truly a desolate, miserable
experience, surrounded by a land that was equally as desolate and miserable.
It is no wonder that this had been a place of exile … it is bleak,
barren, and depressing terrain. We also entered a whole new security experience
– we were stopped at least a half dozen times for passport checks.
And after leaving the Red Sea area, the next seven hours was broken with
only one rest stop (remember, these buses have no washroom facilities)
at a settlement called Nakhl. Without getting into too many graphic details,
the Nakhl 'rest' stop now ranks as the absolute worst facilities in the
most depressing place we've been in the past three and a half months.
Bram is convinced that the ultimate lowest rung on the global career ladder
is to be the restroom attendant in Nakhl!
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Ben and Emma have jumped all over the place including
the site of the famous pyramids at Giza, Egypt. |
We arrived in Cairo close to midnight – not our favourite time
to arrive anywhere. After haggling with a taxi driver to take us to the
hotel we'd chosen in our guide book (in the mid-range category rather
than budget, since we didn't want to forfeit air-conditioning) we arrived
to find that the only room they had available was a shabby small space
with two twin beds. When asked where the children would sleep, the clerk
indicated they could sleep on the threadbare carpet (through which you
could see the floorboards). And for this privilege, he wanted only $70US
for the night!! Frustrated, we left, haggled with another cabbie, and
headed for the Hilton. We figured the budget could take a hit for the
night if it meant we had somewhere decent to stay. "Sorry, no rooms
available," was the phrase that pushed Bram somewhere close to the
edge, and Sharon took over the hotel room quest.
Off to the concierge desk, she called close to half a dozen hotels before
finding a room. Another taxi dropped us, disheveled and tired, and more
than a little bit grubby, in the doorway of the Conrad Hotel. $169US was
the price we paid, before taxes and service charges, for the opportunity
to stay on the executive floor of one of the signature luxury hotels of
the Hilton chain. We quickly ate a meal (it's kind of weird ordering a
main course at 1:45 am) and then dashed to our room. There the card outlining
the types of pillows one could order from the 'pillow service' of the
hotel was only one of the indicators that we were a long way from our
usual style of digs. But we happily slipped between the Egyptian cotton
cover of the down duvet and the similarly decked bed sheet, and slept
like babies.
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Looking west over the Nile River in Cairo, Egypt.
Some estimates put the population of this sprawling city at 16 million…
that’s more than half the population of Canada! |
Given our 1:00 am hotel arrival, we were really not interested in loading
ourselves into another taxi nine hours later when we woke the next morning.
So we threw our carefully tended budget to the wind and booked in for
another night. We took full advantage of all the hotel had to offer that
day – pool, executive lounge with all attendant privileges, 24-hour
teletoons station on TV, superlative shower, luxurious tub … it
was hard to leave the next morning! But we did, relocating to a more familiar
genre of hotel, that was about 75% cheaper. (No hotels are cheap in Cairo,
and all of them quote rates in US dollars rather than the local currency
of Egyptian pounds.)
For those of you planning a stay in Cairo make sure your hotel quotes
rates inclusive of service charges and taxes. In fact, hard as it is for
a Canadian to admit it, we don't pay anywhere near as much tax as foreigners
do in Cairo. On the hotel bill they tack on a 10% service charge, a 12%
tax, a flat fee head tax, a 2% municipal tax and a stamp tax (no idea
what that is).
By the time we got to our second hotel, we'd decided to curtail our original
plans for Egypt and simply 'do' Cairo. The travel times and costs to head
south to Luxor and east to Mount Sinai seemed just a little insurmountable.
So we headed out that afternoon to the Egyptian Museum. We'd understood
it to be a 'must see,' and the guidebook said that it housed "more
than 100,000 relics and antiquities from almost every period of ancient
Egypt …" (Lonely Planet, Middle East)
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When faced with structures built more than 5,000
years ago you can feel either very inconsequential or very young –
we chose the latter! It was a privilege to see one of the original
Seven Wonders of the World. |
Arriving after another haggle with another taxi driver, we climbed the
stairs into a rather gloomy, overcrowded, un-air-conditioned building
with 'relics' seemingly dumped into every possible nook and cranny. Any
interpretive material that could be found looked like it had been typed
on a 1960s Underwood manual typewriter, and it wasn't always evident which
nearby piece it was referring to. The only exception in the museum was
in the Tutankhamun Gallery, which was air-conditioned, well lit, and full
of interpretive information. It's evident which is the most profitable
touring corner of the museum.
Our last day in Cairo was spent at the pyramids in Giza. The Giza Plateau
overlooks greater Cairo, and is home to some of the most amazing wonders
of history. Over 5,000 years old, the three Pyramids on this plateau are
the oldest, largest and most accurate stone structures ever made. They
are stunning in their size and magnificence. The largest pyramid is the
Great Pyramid of Khufu, which stood 146.5 metres high when it was built.
The Sphinx, which seems to stand guard over the three pyramids, is an
awesome sight. It was carved almost entirely from a huge piece of limestone
that was left after the carving of the stones for Khufu's Pyramid.
The trip to the pyramids was the highlight of our time in Egypt.
Our last day in Egypt was a repeat (although on a slightly nicer bus)
trip through the desolate Sinai to the border town of Taba, where we crossed
by foot into Israel. As we arrived close to the Taba area, we were again
struck by the high security levels and passport checks. This added to
our incredulity as we watched, only ten days after being there, the tragedy
of the bombings at the Hilton Hotel – we had walked right by the
entrance on our way to the border.
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