Cairo

Sunday, 28th February 1999

The hazy sun sat itself over Cairo again and the murky waters of the Nile flowed on their course as has occurred for millennia. On just another working day in the Muslim world we headed off along the Nile to the Australian Embassy, passing hordes of youths piling onto the large ferry boats. Painfully loud Arabic music blasted out of speakers, everybody on board was dancing and many well-wishers were trying to usher us on board, all of it part of the beautiful Egyptian spirit. Three towering buildings stood out in front of us and one of them was our target. We crossed the road almost surpassing the land speed record. The two tallest turned out to be Egyptian banks and the smallest and least impressive was the World Trade Centre. On the eleventh floor we were passed through security and into the Australian Embassy. On the walls were travel advisories, Australian Telecom phone books were on the shelves and the most inspiring piece was a home phone that Telecom distributed to all households years ago. A piece of memorabilia that I hadn't laid eyes on for two-and-a-half years suddenly became quite significant and a wash of all the joys of home ran through my veins. Whilst waiting for our $AU 7 letters of recommendation to be typed up I read some excerpts from the Sydney Morning Herald, when all of a sudden the humble Kookaburra began to sing a tune from the television where a wildlife special had been put on.

Another Aussie came to join us, although somewhat more rugged and adventurous than us for he had just spent the last two years working his way up the east coast of Africa from Cape Town to Cairo. He carried with him a small backpack filled with personal items and an African walking stick, which he called the peacemaker, and as it turned out he needed it. The guy had more stories to tell than you can imagine and was so happy to see another Australian. Apparently during his travels he spent two full months not speaking a word of English, was beaten up several times for money (where they broke his jaw and ribs) and in one town in Tanzania the police decided to frame him for murder. They locked him up in a backwater station for four days and allowed him no rights. He paid a guard on the fourth $US 50 to allow him to stay in the local hotel and to shower. That night at 3 am in the darkness he left his room, broke into the captains office at the back of the station, whilst the front was guarded, took his passport out of the drawer and ran north as far as his legs would carry him. At Lake Malawi he paid a local a months wages to take him to the next country and they paddled madly across in a dug-out canoe for more than ten hours. His story came straight out of the movies and it was sad to part with him. His journey was going to follow ours overland and up to Turkey.

With the letter in our hot little hands we rushed across the 6th of October bridge in the searing sun and just made it to the Syrian Embassy by noon. After filling out our forms the fat balding man said that we could pick them up after 1:30pm tomorrow and they would cost 125 Egyptian pounds each (an outrageous $AU 60). "You see my country is very cheap when you get there", said the fat balding officer and we were sure he was pocketing 20 pounds for himself and not to go towards his country. The adventurer we met in the Aussie Embassy said that he heard that the fee should be 105 pounds and that the officer tries to pocket the rest. Oh well, when we return tomorrow I'll demand an official receipt from the Syrian Government which will certainly send a chill down his spine. I'm sure the Syrian Government would not take too lightly to one of its officers pocketing money from foreigners and I'd hate to think what part of him they'd chop off!

On the way back into town another local befriended us offering all sorts of local information "just because he wanted to welcome us to his country". He took us round the back way to the Cairo Museum which we may have taken anyway but after twenty minutes he showed his true colours. Two hundred metres away was the so-called "government" papyrus shop he'd mentioned, although funnily enough the sign said Ahmad's Papyrus Factory. We said an abrupt goodbye here and left him on the other side of the street. We then spent the next four hours drooling at the displays in the Egyptian Museum, although most lay in turn-of-the-century display cases that left much to be desired. More statues, mummies, coffins and implements from everyday life filled the rooms. Of course our favourite was the Tutankhamun exhibit. Twelve stunning rooms bewildering us with treasures from his tomb and Carter's photographs from 1922 when he stumbled across it. Amulets and jewellery were wrapped over the mummy (which still lies in its outer coffin casing in the Valley of the Kings), gold slippers were on the feet, the famous gold headrest, two inner coffins in the shape of his body and facial features, one made of solid gold, the beautifully carved alabaster Canopic jars where his internal organs were placed, a room full of his personal treasures, beds and solar barque boats hat were to be taken to the underworld, board games and his throne depicting the famous image of his queen placing her arm on his shoulder. Many other wonders from the New and Old Kingdom are displayed throughout the museum but nothing that embraced our attention like Tutankhamun's exhibit, for it was almost like strolling through his bedroom. We were kicked out of the last room at five after taking in all the statuary, hieroglyphic tablets and more personal effects from ancient Egypt than you could poke a stick act.

Outside the taxi drivers desperately tried to win a fare, cheap papyrus sellers couldn't work out why we wouldn't buy them for one pound, enthusiastic men would want to know if "we needed their help", and they all framed the background action on Midan Tahrir where horns screeched and drivers tried with all their might to run you over. On returning to the hotel after such a cultural day I caught forty winks and woke to find that Dave had gone downstairs to pick up two shwamas and drinks for dinner. Bleary-eyed I moved on to the balcony to watch the Nile, the bright lights and this evening's entertainment.