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The night before I was to leave for Egypt, a clairvoyant friend phoned to tell me that they will not let me take all my luggage. I thought he meant the tour company, so I jettisoned a suitcase.
When our group arrives at the Cairo airport, access to the luggage conveyer belt is blocked by more seasoned travelers, who have commandeered all the baggage carts. If luggage is not retrieved by the time they are about to make a return trip on the belt, they are snatched off by baggage handlers and thrown into a quickly growing pile of luggage, canvas bags, spilled clothing and toiletries. I need not have worried. My psychic friend was right. My bags did not arrive until a day before we were to leave Egypt.
After the mass confusion of the Cairo Airport, the 22 of us, tired after a long flight, are happy to go straight to the hotel. The Mena House, in Giza. It's huge delightful chandelier in the driveway and it's old world charm are just what the doctor ordered. We climb the central staircase and take the tiny elevator to our rooms. It is time to rest, to get ready for our Egyptian adventure.
We awaken bright and early to the sounds, sights and smells of Cairo. With a sense of deja vu, I walk out to my balcony and get my first glimpse of the Pyramids of *1Khufu, Khafre and Menkaure, rising from the sandy plateau of Giza. I have stepped into another world, another time.
After breakfast, we climb on our air conditioned bus and head for the famous, Egyptian Museum of Antiquities. It is a pleasantly warm and bright November day, despite Cairo's ever present haze*2. All my senses are alive, my ears assaulted by the cacophony.
"The call of the Muezzin, car horns, honking. Pervading, the smell of diesel and dust. Donkeys and horses and motors and man. Take their places together in rush hour's crush."
The streets are a mass of humanity. Coloured galabayas dart to and fro, or stop for a smoke and a chat on a street corner. Vendors sell oranges, dates and mysterious looking vegetables from carts. Braziers smoke, as the smell of cooking meat, mingles with the ever pervading odors of the city. Pots and pans and brightly coloured dry goods are displayed on the sidewalks. Tourists, with camera necklaces, are stalked by an entourage of papyrus vendors, beggars and brightly dressed children who shout,
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