Day Of Pharos Envy

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The automatic doors of the airport terminal opened up just before I stepped into the sizzling heat of the Egyptian afternoon. I pushed my way through touts and fat Arab men trying to shuffle me into a taxi while I looked for a bus going into Cairo. There were many buses yet most we in a state of complete dilapidations. Humanity was poring out the windows of the coaches headed for the city center baring boxes, children, and men and women in such close proximity it would leave one to believe that the drivers of the bus were going for some kind of world record . This was all About as unattractive to an accustomed European traveler as pail, furry obesity is on a day at the beach. Egypt, I had only stepped out the door of the airport and it was already chaotically adventurous, and frustratingly fantastic.

After spending 2 hours at the airport simply trying to get into the city (without being taken advantage of by a taxi driver.) I was sitting alone in a city bus as the driver made the last few turns before the Nile came into view. What I had found out was that those people I saw crammed like cattle into the white, dent ritteld rundown buses I had first seen at the airport paid 20 cents to get into the city, and I pulled out the bug bucks and paid 1.50$ for a bus that doubled as my own personal stretch limo to the city. The driver stopped and let me off in the center of Cairo like a child throwing a dead bug onto an ant hill. When the moment happened that my foot touched the grody pavement of the city street I was surrounded by guys trying to sell me handbags, and sunglasses. I politely told them to ‘get out of my face’ and crossed the street to take in my first view of the mighty and legendary Nile river.

Once I had crossed the 4 lanes of traffic and been nearly run down by seven or eight drivers in black taxis , I leaned over the railing along the embankment and looked out onto the murky and polluted waters of the Nile as a tiered and bitter sun began it long descent to the evening horizon. A cast iron brown and featherless sky laid a blanket over the city with only a vague patch of hazy blue at its apex. The excessive noise from the traffic and city dwellers echoed over the water at dusk, the advertisements loomed in the sky on billboards suspended by wire and steel advertising KFC, to Nokia phones, and of course coca-cola adds on every street corner. Shoeless Children rummaged thought trash at the river side and smartly dressed tourist police paraded up and down the side walk smoking cigarettes with a locked and loaded AK-47 resting on there shoulders. this was Egypt. For me it was step in the opposite direction of normality, but this was a land of adventure and wonder. The Birthplace of the modern tourist, in the footsteps of Alexander, napoleon, and Victoria this was the start of my great crusade across the Middle East…

Soon after arriving in Cairo I meet a few yanks likewise wandering the city at night watching the bustle of the markets and men howling in discussion over tea, like wolfs on a full moon.. I meet Tony and his girlfriend Jess. Tony was had the body of a motley crew roady. He had a thick beard and long hair and seemed to be somewhere in late 20s and his girlfriend jess, a smart and funny 17 year old drop out who had run away from home on the previous Sunday. The first time I ran away from home I didn’t make it passed the 7 eleven down the street and this girl had made it to Egypt in less than a week. I was impressed, I guess she really meant it when the packer her bags and stepped out the door. They both had a calm demeanor and a ready for anything way of looking at the world. I thought it would be nice to hang together and at least give myself some company. We had all checked into a cheap hotel in the city center. Cairo, the capital of Egypt was a textbook example of a hell hole, from the roof of my hotel was just a sea of dirt plastered building and satellite dishes, a city of desperate struggle and corruption. Cairo, the place where all bad cars go when they die.

Of course the first thing you see when you have a full day in Cairo is the pyramids of Giza. Jess and Tony were more than happy to join me. We all walked a few meters passed the doors of the hotel to an overpass where underneath the elevated causeway was a maze of vans and mini buses headed for every part of Cairo and its outlaying lands. Young boys wandered around selling baskets of fruit and water bottles as they did laps around passengers waiting for there van to leave. Its not long before you become accustomed to never being alone in the Arab world. If you are European then you are the object of money. You are more recognized as a walking stack of bejermans than a human being on holiday. Several men with pails of black water from washing the mini-bus jumped at the chance to make some money for the thankless task of pointing his finger to the van going to Giza witch was clearly labeled and easy to find.

Herded into a mini bus the three of us were On our way to Giza ( the slum like suburb of Cairo next to the pyramids.) A mini bus is the preferred locale form of transpiration in Cairo. made to transport 8 people comfortably, and carry 18 in total misery. Its cheap, its fast ( often too fast) and it’s a good way to become intimate with the populous of the city, because inevitably at some point someone will be sitting on your lap, probably come in contact with some form of bodily discharge, and have all 18 passengers stick there ass in your face as they move about . fortunately inside the van we meet a helpful Egyptian man named Ali Abule. Ali had suggested that we see his cousin. A stable owner in Giza. As we neared the edge of the desert out the mini bus I caught my first glimpse of the pyramid of Giza . Just seeing the top of the wonder made my heart skip a beat. It was big, they weren’t kiding.

Ali, was generally nice and wanted to see that we enjoyed his country to witch he was very proud of. You see, if you simply arrive at the gates of the pyramids in a tourist bus, or by happy cabby. There are more than enough guys running around with donkeys, camels and grim looking horse, who’s hoofs they dragged around in the sand wouldn’t be worth making jell-o out of. Yet countless German, American, and British tourists catch a short ride on a camel, or horse, or donkey, at the pyramids, usually for an absurd amount of money. Its all together more of a photo to opportunity if anything. you don't get to "ride the animal" so you can abolish the idea of galloping across the desert sands like Laurence of Arabia. But if your idea of a ’trot’ is being lead by a skinny child holding a rope for ten yards then your experience will not be disappointing. This was not something we had wanted to do so we went to talk with ali's cousin to get more of a classical experience. I was happy to see The stables were more than decent, clean, well fed animals that had space to move about looked much more desirable. Ali bargained with his cousin ( for 20 minutes in perfect Arab fashion) to let us take out his horses. Upon settling on a fee we agreed on taking horses to the pyramids. Ali had promised to see us all later that night before he walked back to his home.

We were brought our four legged transport and mounted up. We had a guide and were off on our way. In the narrow alleyways of Giza as we passed homes and small children peering out of the windows. Trotting slowly out of the slum we crossed a dried canal and made way into the heavy sands of the desert. I had to confess to Tony and Jess that I had never rode a horse before. This for some reason was so hilarious that they correlated in one big healthy gut laugh about it simply on the basis that I was from Idaho. They were both from the east coast and had been raised in cities but they both knew there way around a bridle, and they thought it was strange that someone from Idaho wouldn’t know how to ride a horse. I had to explained that I was from a city too, and just because I was from the west didn’t automatically make me any kind of caviler. Never the less, they walked me thought a short orientation and crash course on horsemanship. Coming out of the city we rode into the desert. The sands of the Egyptian deserts had the consistency of kitty litter. A hot wind favored us by pushing away the pollution of the city and unveiling a blue sky.

The sands rose and fell over mounds of earth just low enough to see the tops of the pyramids in the distance. Our horse carried us up a small ridge where at the top I looked out across the sands in view of the last of the grand wonders of the ancient world.
across the sea of sand and scattered yellow rocks were The pyramids of Egypt., The crypts of the pharos. A mountain of limestone made by man 6000 years ago, structures that stood in place for most of the time humanity has recorded itself. a place where Alexander The Great, Julius Caser, and napoleon traveled ( and fought) to see a something that stood long before them.

Still a mile away the massive front of stones dominated the horizon. after Posing for photos we descended into a flat valley. The open sand was ours as horses reared back from a kick of the heals and took off galloping in the openness of the sands .
"YALAA! YALAA!" The three of us and our young guide shouted. A thrilling rush pumped into my heart as the wind fluttered my hair. I laughed in euphoric stimulation as I fell into the rhythm of the galloping horse. Nearing the plateau at full stride though the desert towards the pyramids now, in glorious sight. Proud of myself at my horsemanship I looked up finally at the massive stones now steps away crystal clear and all inspiring .

We dismounted at the pyramids, our guide took our horses to get water and food. We were more content with exploring the sight on our own without a guide anyways. The base of the pyramids was a show more entertaining than the famed structures themselves. There were barking calls from vendors selling camel rides and Pepsi. Egyptian men took photos of people with Polaroid cameras then selling them before they had the chance to walk away. Legions of retirees in Bermuda shorts and heavy sun glasses stood listening to tour guides holding up small flags, umbrellas and balloons so people wouldn’t get confused and walk over to the other tour group made up of German tourists speaking in Douche as the sun reflected off there oily sunscreen saturated bodies. Possibly you could be mixed up some how blend into to the tour of Japanese business men all wearing black suits in 100 degree weather.

scrambeling up part of the pyramid but were forced to come down by request of the police. We took the long way round, exploring the ruins of Egypt’s lost past and taking picture to show our friends back home. passing rounded the sphinx and road back to Giza.

We road for an hour back to the stables where Alis cousin Abdu greeted us and took us to the roof top of the stables where I could see the pyramids again thought the palms and roof tops of the city. we had lunch and were served tea talked about life in Cairo and the history of the Arabs of Egypt.

It had already been an outstanding day but there was plenty of more daylight left so we hatched a plan to get a taxi to get to the Saqqara pyramid south of Cairo. This is better known as the "step" pyramid. Our driver thought it was faster to take the back streets of Giza and Cairo to get to Saqqara. I road shotgun as Jess and Tony stretched out in the back. The paved roads turned to dust. The edges were lined with piles of trash and filth. Children played on piles of waste, women washed close in green water, men walked in long thous and sandals reminding me of room mates wakening up on Sunday mornings with carts and goods looking to sell something to neighbors. The buildings were flimsy and covered with dirt. I had seen cardboard boxes back home that looked to be more stable than these peoples homes. Families road on carts pulled by donkeys. mothers covered there faces with burkas when we passed as there kids waved and greeted us in excitement. I couldn’t decide if I felt like I had just gone back in time to see a primeval society, or been blasted into the future of a failed civilizations. Thick stone walls stretched around miles of orange farms where rich men lived in luxury overlooking the despair of there workers and there families existing in outstanding poverty, and despicable squalor like a futile lord.

Our taxi driver who had gone through about half a pack of cigarettes in 15 minutes turned up a newly paved road winding back into the desert. We paid the driver to sit and stay for us to return before we navigated the ten or twelve tour buses parked in a freshly paved parking lot. All we could see was a thick line of tourists walking around the ruins of the pharos burial grounds from the 5th dynasty carefully not stepping out of line and pressed against each other like the front row of a Billy ray Syris concert. Jess, Tony and myself were not interested in standing in a line to we ducked under a rope and went exploring around the ruins. Smaller pyramids sat alone and free of other tourists so we climbed up the sides like it was a big jungle gym. Ancient buildings half buried in sand were un spoiled and ours for the discovery. The hieroglyphs of the ancient tombs lined the walls. In one building we found a hole that went down 25 feet, passageways to the burial rooms deep underground. Without any lengths or rope we were not able to climb down unfortunately.
We continued to stair down into the hole trying to think of a way to get down. Our brainstorming came to a arrest when we heard a voice coming from behind us.

“excuse me, but you know you are not allowed to be in there! that's off limits you need to stop and get back over the ropes, this is a sensitive area " said a fat American tour guide momentarily separated from her flock.
She had snuck up behind us on a dim path designated by rocks in the sand.
I looked at Tony, and then at the fat woman “ who are you exactly, and what are you doing here?" I retorted to the woman.

Tony began to dig around in the sand picking up rocks as to look like they were studying them or taking samples. Jess slipped a notebook out from her backpack and started scribbling.

"oh, are you students?" she assumed. I decided to act on her presumption ‘’Yes, yes we are miss. We are students of uh… Washington university on an archeology study. So everything is under control. Now, if you don't mind we need you to stay on the path at all times please." I said throwing a wink at Tony and jess who where both smiling.

"wait. I don’t remember Washington having a big archeology program." she said with a slyness "and where is your professor?"

"we get that all the time, we are from the DC area , the other Washington, that's why,”
“I see” the woman said. “well where is your professor?”
“Hes down in that big hole doing some important work. We can pull him up the roap if you want" I said.
ether she believed us or she quit caring and took off. The three of us found it all very funny .

Walking to the small pyramid of Unas we had a a bright idea to somehow get into the chamber. This was a shorter pyramid that looked as if tourists hadn't spoiled it like all the others. 30 meters from the base of the tomb was a causeway lead down into the sand to a rock wall that were missing a few stones where one could squeeze into to get inside. Jess and Tony took watch as I crawled under the barber wire . I polled out a flashlight from my bag and slipped into the tomb. The air was cold and my every step echoed up and down the walls of the subterranean layer Inside the pyramid there were several rooms that lead in different directions. The ground was littered with guano (bat shit). The narrow walkway got smaller and the bat shit piled up. I pushed on a few more yards past several rooms as everything was immersed in complete darkness for millennia. Moving slowly around a corner I shined my flash light down long hallway reaching to the underground of the pyramid . I froze suddenly as I look on to wall covered with bats. Every inch of the sealing was taken up by a bat. The light revealing thick clusters for a quick moment, before they began to flutter and screech when I dropped the light . I kept still until the flying creatures went back to there perch. As much as I wanted to I couldn't get myself to go deeper into the pyramid. mind you I was on my own, And under a Egyptian pyramid so cut me some slack.
After climbing around on the pyramid of Unas we meet our driver and went back to the stables again. Where Abdu, the owner meet us. We had tea again and talked on the roof top. Abdu suggested that we take his camels out to the desert and watch the sun set in the silence of the desert. Again we mounted up, this time all the grace and sophistication of a horse had been replaced by a lumbering camel. A camel is kind of like a fat drunken guy at a football game. He’s discussing, rude, and stupid. He has nothing intelligent to say, and he ruins every peaceful moment with flatulence and spiting . He never wants to get any work done and has a pasty balcony covered in hair hanging over his belt the same way I cringe when I see a camel trudge in my direction. Despite my plea to ride another horse, Jess and Tony convinced me to ride a camel. In the last hour of daylight we road once again into the desolate tract towards the Giza plauto .

I sat back as the camel slowly lumbered along across the sand. The suppressing heat of the day was leavening as a cool breeze brushed my face. I watched the sun drop behind the sands of the Sahara. The fading light silhouetted the pyramids in the distance as another day came to a close. The city lights of Cairo began to flicker on and the volume of noise clouded any serenity of the desert.

Suddenly for one quick moment the sounds of the city dissipated and the city fell silent. Shortly after, we could hear the call to prayer being repeated across the city over mega phones from the towers of the mosques. The words of the Koran echoed over the barren and chilly desert. The words and teachings of Mohammed and the Koran brought a moment of peace and unity to the chaos of the City of Cairo before returning to the chaotic habitat of nightmarish traffic. If just for a moment.

It was getting dark fast so our guide suggested we hurry back to the stables, besides, it was just about time to meet Ali for dinner. Now unlike a horse you cant really get into the rhythm of a camel. It just feel like you are being bounced randomly and having your ass smacked repeatedly with a baseball bat. As my camel got into a full run I tried to hang on but I felt more like a bull rider than a passenger. The stupid thing tossed me face first onto the sand. I looked like on of those guys in the old westerns who is shot and rolls off the back of his horse. But camels are a lot taller than horses and fell face first into the sand. I brushed off the sand and other than my pride I was fine. At that point I decided no more camels. Besides, you never saw Indiana Jones on a camel did you?

Ali's greeted us at the stables and walked us to his home. The dark streets of Giza were full of men moving around. Horse, and camels eating hay. Young boys shepherding goats. Ali led us through the busy streets while men watched us from inside cafés as they smoked there water pipes, and listened to loud music blaring from old and dusty speakers. Ali took us into an ally way filled with children and lead us up a flight of stairs where we entered his apartment. Inside I meet his family and ate dinner with him. The Egyptian man hosted a fabulous flat. rooms of decretive rugs and hand crafted furniture from Saudi Arabia. After meeting his 7 little girls he and dinner. He showed us to his rooftop of his apartment. His home was no less then 300 meters from the gate of the pyramids.

Ali pulled out a cigarette and began to smoke as Jess and Tony looked over the balcony looking towards the illuminated pyramids just a few hundred meters away. every night a sound and light show is presented in 5 languages. Each of the massive pyramids were lit up in green, blue and red, as lasers told epic story of the men that once rested there. We all watched as the colors rose and fell to the music of the show. It was beautiful and relaxing a perfect end to what may have been one of the busiest days of my life. And it was only the first day…

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