CAIRO

CAIRO

DEPARTURE FROM LUXOR

Travelling anywhere these days seems to involve getting up at some absolutely ungdly hour of the morning, making your way to an airport with a taxi, for which you pay twice as much for the 2- minute journey as you have paid for your flight to somewhere exotic three hours away and ending up at your destination so tired and disorientated that you spend the next day in bed to catch up.

Well, maybe not quite, but this mornings flight from Luxor airport to Cairo left at 6.30 and so, to be safe … something I am worryingly giving more attention to that I used to, I was picked up at 4.45am having walked down the path to the wonderful sound of the Adhan and saying good morning to the donkey on the way past.

The flight was full … mainly of a Mexican tour group and I got sat next to the largest Mexican I have ever seen. You have to admire their near constant state of euphoria and hilarious wonderment at everything that happens to them, but at 5 in the morning it can be a bit trying!

DRIVE INTO TOWN

I was picked up quite efficiently by the driver sent from the hotel I was staying in and before long we were out in the Cairo rush hour … 8.30am. I have to say that traffic interspersed with humour, like donkeys, or carts or even cows doesn’t worry me in the least …. This was just lung clogging traffic and was most unpleasant.

Every car without exception was bashed and scratched and the experience was not pleasant. All the houses seemed to be huge, but were crumbling and the ubiquitous beige. Every single house was beige! In Bourton on the Water that is very pretty … here Im afraid it wasn’t. 

WINDSOR HOTEL

I arrived at my hotel – called the Windsor and written up about with varying degrees of hysteria on TRipadvisor as being a ‘legacy’ hotel … a hotel which harks back to the times when the Brits ruled Cairo … it had a wonderful lift … and an even more wonderful bar, with the most ‘famous’ bar in Cairo etc etc. 

What confronted me was simply a fly-blown fleapit of a hotel which should be condemned on the spot and pulled down.

From the recipetion area, under about 2 inches of dust to the lift which surely has not been tested by health and safety since it was installed in 1892 to the dingy rooms with filthy bedcovers to the bathroom with no hot water … it was just appalling.

The only time I get despondant when travelling is when I am tired and so I lay on the bed and immediately booked my return flight to Luxor for tomorrow night. I have to say 24 hours later nothing I have seen has made me think my action was impulsive.

EGYPTIAN MUSEUM.

I walked to the Egyptian Museum. That I have to say is incredible … if you are into any form of `Egyptology.  My interest in Egyprian culture always has been to do with the art rather than the history and some of the art on the artefacts in the museum is breathaking.

The highlight is of course the Tutenkhamum room on the first floor. The funerary mask is truly one of the most amazing artefacts I have ever seen in my life and I do remember when I was in Cairo last, some 35-40 years ago, once could actually touch the mask if one asked the guardians to let you. I am thus one of the few people who have actually touched the funerary mask of Tutenkhamun! Now of course it is hidden behind plate glass and a bewildering array of security gadgets.

I was able to play to take ‘my own’ photograph of the mask too. I had, for E£50 bought a photographic pass to the museum, meaning you can go round photographing everything. But it appears you cant use your camera in the Tut room. As soon as I entered I made a B line for Tuts mask and snapped it before hthe guard pounced on me and told me to desist! 

But Ive got a photo pass I protested … apparently it doesn’t count in here. But I had my photo and so was happy!

The rest of the displays in the Tutenkhamun room are eqully wonderful and are laid out so well and clearly. It really is one of those experience everyone should do once in their lifetime!

CAIRO ITSELF

AS for the rest of Cairo … well, I cant say I have seen a huge amount but what I have seen I have found quite awful and have little appetite tomorrow to go out and see a whole lot more. 

It is by any standards absolutely filthy dirty with a disregard for squalor which is appalling. The rubbish and little that you see everywhere you go, the dirt and grime, the awful street food sellers with their wares looking as if it already had every bug known to man on it … my dinner consisted of a visit to KFC as at least I was assured of a semblance of cleanliness and hygiene .. is not attractive, or edgy as some people might think …. It is just rather most unattractive.

I went for a lateish (8pm) night walk in search of the famous Al Khalili market which is famous for all its Islamic artefacts and drew a blank, despite comprehensive directions.

All I managed to do was to delve ever deeper into the local ‘tat’ market with acres and acres of Chinese made products on display as far as the eye can see. No quality, no interesting things to see, just a mass of people buying a mass of cheap goods. I got as far as I dared go and then returned back to the hotel.

The only thing I found interesting is that for the entire 1 ½ hours walking I did not see one single other Westerner. I was quite literally the only on out there. Neither did I see another westerner one my trip on the underground …. Either I am doing it all wrong or there really are few tourists about other than the ones than little all the tourist sites having stepped off buses.

By the time I returned to the hotel it was past 9 o’clock and whilst I was tempted to go out again with a driver and go to the proper Al Khalili market, I settled into the bar of the Windsor Hotel instead.

Whilst sitting in the dark and dingy bar I wrote a review for Tripadvisor on the place which I am afraid was pretty scathing. 

I submitted it to the site and then thought no more about it and went to bed.

Next morning I was up at about 9 and went downstairs for a ghastly breakfast (is there ANYTHING this hotel can do properly other than live on its past) and caught a taxi to the Al Khalili market.

AL KHALILI MARKET

I set off next to a mosque and dived headlong into the market. I walked down the alleys and walkways ever deeper, and seemed to delve ever further into a market which whilst somewhat more interesting than the one I had visited yesterday, which was just plain unattractive, was still pretty uninteresting when compared to come of the other markets I have visited both here and elsewhere.

The thing that one becomes most aware of is the utter filth. Unkempt and dirty can be ‘atmospheric’ or ‘typical’ or whatever, but this was just disgusting.

Whatever you passed which might have been interesting to look at, you had to have one eye constantly on what you were walking in or on. On and on I went taking photos where I could and interacting with the people as best I could. As usual the friendliness of the people was overwhelming and as usual the lack of one single other Westerner in the market was also very noticeable.

My interest was to find a leather holdall to take my stuff back to Luxor. I have bought a large suitcase with all my 6 weeks worth of clothes, but I had nothing but a wicker basket in which to transport it.

I got talking to a delightful English speaking man who offered to show me around. I am in no doubt he was an official guide, but his way of introducing himself was subtlety personified and so I was delighted to avail myself of his services.

He really was utterly charming and took me all over the parts of the market I had not seen, including a visit to an old boy who makes those boxes one buys and then has no idea what to do with, and the spice market, where, as usual saffron was the thing they pushed hard! 

It simply wasn’t saffron. They can say what they like, but it wasn’t. Just because it ledt a red mark on some paper (and ‘this one doesn’t”!) it doesn’t mean I am taking in by it. `nd anyway, I always buy saffron on Ebay!

I HAGGLE FOR A BAG

I was lastly taken by my new friend to a leather factory, or emporium, which mainly consisted of a large room in his house where a vast number of leather bags were stored.

I was introduced to the son of the owner who plied me with tea – one sugar please – and biscuits, and promptly started to unload all his wares around my feet.

I always get a little embarrassed when they do this and head, for about 10 seconds down the “im feeling guilty” path as they go to so much trouble.

But I soon recovered and explained exactly what it was I wanted and said I didn’t really want to see anything else.

More tea followd, and more biscuits! We sat on the ground looking through all his stock (which was prodigious!) with me admiring of dismissing all that he had to show me with good humour! 

Finally he produced a bag of about the right size, a nice colour (sort of terracotta) and so I seized on that and made it the topic of negotiation.

I always find it best to chose what it is you actually want and then stick to it, however hard they try and make you lose your bottle and choose something else. It just confises everything and you tend to lose your concentration in the haggling process,

We started off at E£570 (an odd price) and so I rolled my eyes, smiled and made the usual “Oh My God” sort of ‘you must be joking” comment.

“But if you go market you will find them for about 800.  Here we factory”

“Well, quite … that’s why I am here … I want to deal with you direct rather than a trader. Market sells rubbish”

I finger the bag a bit, throw it around a bit, bend the leather back and forth

“It very strong!!” Say something nice about it

“well, yes, but you have no idea how much stuff I put in a bag” as I fiddle with the handles.

“Yes, but I it break you bring it back!”

“What, all the way to Cairo!! You had better give me a discount so I can pay for the flight” (Good one that!!)

“OK, I give you 550”

“Flights to Cairo are more than that”

We actually remain on this tack for a while and the price comes down to 500.

“More tea (Vicar?)!?”

“So what your price?” Give me good price.  What you pay?”

At this point I put on a look I have ppractised for years … a sort of mix between despair and confusion with maybe a little pathos thrown in for good measure  (your usual look! Ed.) and take some time to answer, looking intently at the bag and then at the ceiling, or anywhere but the man I am dealing with!

I then dramatically turn by head to the man, look him straight in the eyes with as serious a look on my face I can muster and say “Ok, I like it, but I pay you 300”  

I actually mean I am prepared to pay 350 and that is that, but I have left myself a little wiggle room

At this point an equally well practised look comes on the face of the trader … along the lines of “This man really is an idiot: and he laughs!

“You crazy man!” he says, to which I normally say that indeed I am … in more ways than one. I also throw another practised look … rather reproachful, resigned to the fact look … as I say this!

The process now carries on over a period of time as I step up in increments of 5 and he descends in decreases of 25’s until we meet somewhere around 400 with three more cups of tea inside me!

I think the idea here is that they know at some point I am going to have to ask for their loo at which point I will ‘owe them one” so I tighten every muscle I can , determined to stay the course for as long as possible.

Well, in the end I haul out my wallet (commitment!) and fish out my E£350 and slam them on the ground.

I am afraid it usually does the trick, the sight of real notes on the floor!

My friend capitulates, slaps his thighs and proffers a hand and we “high five” as the deal is done.

The bag is quite nice, but not up to much. It is a nice colour and camelskin is pretty strong, but I am under no illusion that within a month or so one of the straps will have broken.

But for now its all I need, I didn’t pay a lot and I can return home again without carrying my worldly possessions in a wicker basket!

After looking around another Mosque with a splendid view over Cairo and whose name I have forgotten, I head in a taxi back to the hotel.

I GET INTO TROUBLE

As soon as I walk in I can sense there is an awkward atmosphere. People are very polite and seemingly overdoing it with me.

Suddenly a rather nice elderly man appears around the corner and introduces himself as the owner of the hotel.

I know instantly what has happened. Tripadvisor has published my scathing report. 

Indeed it has, and the owner, very calmly and quietly explains he would like to talk to me about it and invites me for lunch.

We sit down in the bar and I am introduced to his 101 year old father (the son is 72) and am offered lunch.

My report has clearly surprised him and says it will badly affect his business.  I immediately offer to go on to Tripadvisor and remove my report (you can!) which seems to surprise and please him. He says I thus seem a reasonable man.

I then spend just the most delightful and interesting 2 hours discussing a variety of topics, including of course the state of his hotel.

Look, by any standards the place is a tip. An absolute disgrace. There is no doubt about that at all, with the public rooms and the reception the worst of all. 

My new friend explains that he is doing up the rooms slowly, and one by one. He shows me one and clearly this is true.

But I venture to suggest that I find it hard to understand why he is doing up the rooms when there are no visitors (13% occupancy) and that he has not touched the lobby and other public areas which are what makes the initial impression on guests.

“Well, we are waiting til we can put marble in the lobby!”

Marble!! Are you mad … if there is so little business now and in the foreseeable future, why on earth spend that sort of money on putting marble in the lobby, especially when there are marble effect tiles there already!!

He seems to take the point. I warm to my theme and suggest that for now, all he needs do is to hire some hard working decorators, buy a container full of whitewash, an industrial tin of Brasso and some lead paint and paint everything white and the entrance porch black!!

He is intrigued … I continue (I feel I do ‘legacy’ rather well!) … put some candles in the bar, make the lighting more interesting, put a couple of planters in front of your entrance, put all the old photos of “the past” together, in new frames, in one place, polish your famous lift til it gleams, buy 100 yards of red carpet, reprint the menus that are stained and old and, for now … hey presto!

He promises to do it all … but will he? 

Of course not!

Lunch ends at about 5pm (excellent fresh soup, grille chicken and rice … always a favourite) and I consider going back to meet my guide again, but decide against it. It’s too late and I am not sure I want to face all the crowds all over again.

RETURN TO THE AIRPORT

Instead we head to the airport early via the Iskland of Zamalek … meant to be the smarter end of town. All the embassies and expensive houses are there.

We flog over the bridge, taking ages because of the lung choking traffic everywhere – it is after all rush hour – and when we get there, it seems the place is not discernibly different to the rest of town, apart from the usual absurdly glittery shops that litter such places.

I get out of the car a few times to try and take a look at the Nile but we are pounced on my police or security people who insist we move on immediately. As they are armed you don’t argue.

We press on and soon are back on the main part of town heading towards Heliopolis and the Airport.

I haven’t enjoyed my 48 or so hour in Cairo. Seeing the Museum was of course a must and the absolute highlight. Wonderful, and something everyone should see. It is to my mind the epitome of ‘living history; and to stand there and consider everything that has happened to that little statue over 4000 years is quite remarkable.

I am afraid the rest of what I saw was plain disgusting. Squalid, fetid, dusty and unclean … there was, to be honest, nothing to recommend it.

I have been to many towns often described as the same, but always you see glimpses of charm and the presence of something special. Rajpath and that general areafor instance in Delhi, a town that if compared to Cairo.

No, Cairo isn’t in the same league, and one thing is for sure, I shall not be returning.

ONE LAST EVENT

As I mentioned I booked my return flight to Luxor more or less as soon as I arrived at the Hotel.

I may be stupid but when it comes to booking flights I think I am reasonably expert, and so I book a flight at 11pm which would suit a full day in Cairo before returning home.

I have to admit I didn't check the confirmation Email I received but as I was pretty sure what I was doing didn't really feel the need!

I thus arrived at the airport on time at 21.30 ... only to be told, upon inspection of my ticket, that I had booked a flight at 20.45 and that the flight was indeed already in Luxor! I couldn't believe it ... I was unable to take the flight I had originally book as it was full ... and so had to stay the night in a hotel near the airport (Novotel ... boring but adequate!) and return to Luxor the following morning!

Oh, the joys of travel!