We started the day of the 25th in Buffalo. Most of the packing had been done the night before so there was no last minute rush. Instead of a cold snowy January day that I had expected it was rainy and foggy. Even though I had allowed for a six-hour gap between our flights from JFK to Cairo the lack of an imminent snowstorm was reassuring.
Charles drove our parents and I to the airport in Dad’s Toyota. The most dangerous part of the trip I fear was handing the keys over to Mom and Dad for the return trip home. The security at the Buffalo Niagara airport seemed increased since my trip to Florida not so long ago. Perhaps this was due to the Christmas underwear bomber. After going through the metal detector (after a lady guard helpfully reminded me take off my headphones) I was escorted into a glass booth with two markings to place ones feet. You know you’re in trouble when you see places to put your feet. After a light massage by a security screener, which was thorough, but not Christmas underwear bomber thorough, I was off to our terminal. In a new addition there was a guard with what I presume to be a sniffer dog patrolling the terminal after the security.
Our flight to JFK was uneventful, despite warnings from the pilot to expect a lot of turbulence. Apparently NYC has never seen fog before and we were up in the air circling for an hour before finally allowed to land. Retrieving our luggage was likewise delayed. Perhaps, it was a busy day.
It wasn’t very busy at the Egypt Air desk in Terminal 4. There were more agents handling the desk that people in line. It was only 3:30pm, so it was a might bit early. The agent informed us that the flight was not very full and we could sit wherever we wanted. She also remarked at how few bags we checked. I’ve never seen people bring more baggage than Egyptians returning to the motherland. It’s as if they buy half of NYC and bring it back home with them. Microwave ovens, guitars, XBOX, TVs everything.
Sleepinol is a wonderful thing. Charles and I were conscious for only a few hours of the ten-hour flight. We had our row all to ourselves. Brief periods of wakefulness revealed that I had missed Ice Age 3 and some romantic comedy.
The new Cairo airport is much improved from the one we landed in back in 2004. We no longer had to take a bus to the terminal. Instead we walked for a fairly great distance until we reached the passport control. There were banks for changing money and standard passport desks that lead onward to baggage. After watching some failed attempts by other travelers we realized we had to buy the stamps from the banks. The “stamps” are really supposed to be a visa to allow entrance, but the only purpose is revenue. In 2004 they gave us two stamps for $15 that passport agents affixed to our passports. This time it was one big honking stamp, with holographics to boot.
We met Wallid, the local Egyptian guide holding an “International Horizons” sign right at the entrance to baggage. There were seven of us that didn’t take the pre-trip and had arrived that day. We had been on trips with all of them at one time or another. Though one couple we hadn’t seen since 2003 in Greece.
So much for global warming, as we left the airport we were greeted by 58-degree air. Used to freezing temperatures in Buffalo I assumed it was in the 70s, butt Wallid informed us it was 15 degrees Celsius. The sky looked threatening of rain. Perhaps we would see it rain in the desert like we did in 2004. It’s a wonder that all the natives weren’t wearing fur. It had been extremely cold of late, dropping into the fifties a very rare occurrence.
We boarded a bus to the hotel. I noted heavy security near the airport. There were double layers of barbwire fences on the encircling highway. There were the standard guards with rifles, hiding behind steel shields along the way. There were unmanned guard booths at intervals. They seemed abandoned. The bus took the brand new and brand new looking highway to Cairo. There were many new developments being built in the sands outside Cairo. Cranes and cement mixers were everywhere.
As we approached Cairo the road got dirtier and the traffic became slower. Donkeys pulling carts inhabited the left lane of the 10-lane highway. Trash and people picking through trash were on each side of the road. Huge brick tenement buildings, always seemingly half finished, pressed in on each side. Trash was strewn everywhere. There was a mob of the people on the side of the highway arguing over a car accident. There was a mule-driven vendor selling cooked meat on the side of the highway. People would cross the ten-lane highway by making a mad dash from one side to the other, stopping in the median. In the side streets I saw a herd of goats being sheparded through the streets, perhaps due for ritual slaughter.
As the bus continued past the center of the city, past the Nile, the pyramids made their appearance. First one, then two, then all three appeared. As we got closer to the pyramids, the bus exited the highway to dusty gravel roads. Canals paralleled these side streets. I saw horses, camels and donkey driven carts in the side streets. As the pyramids started to dominate the horizon, the streets became cleaner, more hotels, shops and restaurants appeared. I especially remember the “King Tuut” hotel. The streets became paved and black uniformed soldiers carrying rifles guarded the intersection.
Finally, almost at the doorstep of the middle pyramid our bus went through the gates of our hotel: the Mena House Oberoi. We had stopped there for lunch back in 2004. The food was a rather unappealing breaded fish, but the view of the pyramid was amazing.
Our room was very large with a 40” LCD TV and a full bath. This was one of the best hotel rooms we’ve had in our travels and only bested by the 3-fireplace extravaganza at the Mount Kenya Safari Club.
At 5pm we joined up with Ken and the rest of the group by the poolside, the pyramids seemingly in the backyard of the hotel behind us. We met the remaining 17 members of our group that had gone on the pre-trip. Ken briefly went over our trip itinerary. Much grousing was heard about the cold weather from the pre-trippers. Dinner orders were taken. Among the choices were pigeon and meatballs in tomato sauce that Ken highly recommended. Charles and I both went for the meatballs. Unfortunately this time bat was not on the menu.
At 7:15pm we walked to dinner at the Felfela Café. It was only a half mile or so away from the hotel and thankfully was indoors. The walk was very exciting. The most danger came from crossing the one main street between the hotel and the Felfela Café.
There are only a handful of traffic lights in the whole of the city of Cairo and this street didn’t have one of them. Egyptian drivers only take traffic lights as suggestions, so even that would not have helped. Traffic on the street was non-stop. There was no hope in waiting for a letup in the flow. Crossing an Egyptian street is not for the faint hearted and requires a great leap of faith. One slowly edges out into the street. The first cars that see you will not slow down, instead changing lanes at full speed to avoid. Once in the proceeding to the middle of the street, if you are lucky cars headed right toward you will start to slow down, perhaps even stop. One must move slowly and steadily forward, mindful of cars that don’t seem to mind running over the occasional pedestrian. Moving in large groups as a herd does also seem to help in crossing the street
As one might expect for a street adjacent to the Great Pyramids there was a lot of security. There were at least 3 police checkpoints manned by Tourism and Antiquity police as well as military police. Some were stationed at corners and stood behind metal shields with a small window in them. Along the way to the Felfela Café we picked up a police escort carrying a rather nasty looking machine pistol. Ken (our imperious leader) seemed more concerned about avoiding being lured into Egyptian papyrus shops that lined the street.
The Felfela Café was a nice place. The columns holding up the roof were decorated as trees. I’m not sure what they were going for, but the effect was nice. Perhaps it was an oasis metaphor. Dinner started with a course of vegetables and bread with a huge variety of dipping sauces. One unexpected visitor was a cat, which seemed to like being petted more than the bread that I attempted to feed him. This was most unusual, as the cats in Greece seemed to be starving. Both Charles and I ordered Dawoud Pache, which is a meatballs with tomato sauce. The meatballs and tomato sauce arrived with a side of rice and was exactly as advertised. I probably should have ordered the pigeon instead to keep up my Egyptian tradition of eating odd flying creatures. Those who ordered the flan for desert were disappointed, but not as much as the woman who ordered the yogurt. The yogurt turned out to be an unopened Dane’s plain yogurt. Charles and I ordered the same dessert: Om Ali. It turned out to be a milky, sweet, vanilla flavored pudding or hot cereal concoction which was quite pleasant.
The walk back to the hotel was even easier. We carefully avoided the Papyrus salesman and received a police escort including a plainclothesman. The proved helpful in crossing the street. Even Egyptian drivers will pay attention to a man with an assault rifle.
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