Cairo, as well as being the site of many of the world’s greatest, most mysterious treasures, is a pollution-ridden, overpopulated, not particularly pretty city. That this does not completely overwhelm its charms is actually the greatest miracle of all.
It is brilliant if you haven’t much time to squeeze all the sights in — you can get to the great pyramid in about 15 minutes from central Cairo. Shockingly, this is because the last surviving wonder of the ancient world is practically in the car park of a hotel that is itself part of the urban sprawl.
Moves are afoot to restrict building between Cairo and the pyramids, and finally the Egyptian government has begun to impose restrictions on us pesky tourists: tickets to go inside are only released twice a day, and climbing up the outside is forbidden. Not only that, the pyramids are surrounded by a rubbish dump and the Sphinx appears seriously unwell (my guide tells me it has ”stomach cancer” and is crumbling from the inside).
Nevertheless, the pyramids of Giza are indisputably a marvel, although it is the less familiar sights surrounding them that stay with me. The miraculously still-intact 4 000-year-old boat, buried piece by piece next to the pyramid so the pharaoh wouldn’t be embarrassed by a lack of transport in the next life, was at least as jaw-dropping.
My guide suggested a trip to Sakkara for ”proper” pyramids. It is reachable by horse, camel or car. Your choice, but let’s just say if the wind gets up, that sand can be quite whippy. This is true romance, though: the pyramid of Titi may resemble a pile of sand from the outside, but you have to climb over dunes to get to it, and bend double, crawl in and discover the first pyramid to be decorated and inscribed. The tomb alongside Titi’s son-in-law, with its dramatic illustrations of his life, is like a step-by-step guide to how they did it.
A word here about gentle extortion. If you are going to travel with a guide, you are going to end up in a carpet school. Here, children ”learn” carpet-making in between lessons, and a charming man will insist on guiding you through the process, encourage you to try and then take you upstairs for mint tea and the hard sell. Only fighting charm with more charm will get you out of there without a beautiful silk rug that you really don’t want.
As grand bazaars go, the famed Khan-El-Khalil is pretty civilised and good-natured. Yes, every shop seems to sell the same things; and yes, men will attempt to draw you in to their inventory with extravagant compliments, but it’s flirtatious and funny, not threatening or scary.
Lunch on a felucca, which you’d be advised to organise through your hotel if you don’t want to spend your trip lying in bed clutching your stomach, is a delightful way to see Cairo and cruise the Nile without having to go on a cruise to Karnak. This may be the only peaceful bit of the city. Drifting along the sparkling river is certainly the least-crowded bit and the many hotels, bars and floating restaurants put their game faces out to the river, so you see their collective best side from the water.
If you have time, see some of Islamic Cairo’s best bits — such as the mosque of Mohammed Ali at the Citadel — and dine at the hip Abou El Sid restaurant, where you can smoke bubble-gum-flavoured sheesha pipes in decadent surroundings, eat rabbit stew and pretend you’re in an opium den. I tried virtually everything on the menu; it was all extremely good.
Cairo is frantic and exotic and cheerful and friendly, but it is rarely serene or peaceful and doesn’t know when to leave you alone. You have to be a bit firm with it. — Â