Cairo

Tuesday, 2nd March 1999

Ah! Another day overlooking the paradise accompanied by a warm cup of tea and jam on bread. As I took in the vision of mayhem it was amazing to think that we were going to see the Great Pyramids of Giza today. First we made our way along the well-trodden path across the Nile and into the Jordanian Embassy. You can get visas at the border but at times officials have charged foreigners for this free visa. We were in and out within five minutes and would have to return tomorrow to pick them up. It was mid-morning by the time we returned to Midan Tahrir and as we were waiting for a minibus to arrive we struck up a conversation with a mechanical engineering student, who was on his way home to Giza. As far as we could tell his friendship was genuine, although we should have had our suspicions when he began to spout off all kinds of prices. He mentioned that the "government" stables were the most reliable for camel hire. Eventually we arrived into Giza, the streets lined with mud-brick houses, and our friend decided to "show us the way", taking us to the stables. Without showing that he knew the owners he then said that he'd meet us back at the stables before the evening lightshow and take us to have dinner with his family. We did not agree to his proposal but said that we may see him later in the afternoon.

Then there I stood with my back turned to the stables and facing the Great Pyramids of Giza, looming memorably over mud-brick houses, dirt roads, and a traditional people on the edge of Cairo still on donkeys and carts. This vision exceeded my exhilaration at seeing the Eiffel Tower for the first time, a panorama so widely photographed that I'd seen it all my life in pictures. The sands of time that make their way from the desert, carved their way across the pyramids and into the city, where diverted through my nostrils. The scene was intoxicating and after 4000 years these structures were still looming over society. The striking rays of afternoon sun illuminated a cobalt blue sky and the rolling desert that runs across northern Africa began here.

The man at the stables gave us the usual cup of tea whilst giving his spiel. After seeing the state of the animals that turned up outside we turned off the idea, for the camels were totally hairless and looked that they'd had a hard life. They were no match for fluffy Oasis and Flash in Morocco.

When we left the stables our "friend" (who supposedly didn't know the owner) came rushing in, yelling in Arabic with a photo in his hand. He was very surprised to see us, probably because he thought that we should have already began our tour. The photo was of him and some other foreigners, which they'd obviously sent to him. We left without another thought and were happy to explore the greatest monuments on earth with just two legs.

After paying half price at the ticket office (for being "students") we followed a dirt road and within 200 metres stood right in front of the Sphinx and marvelled at its splendour. Like everything else here you're left gobsmacked at your first encounter with this Pharaonic wonder. This structure, carved out of a stone left over from the Cheops pyramid, is half man and half lion. The title of Sphinx comes from the ancient Greeks who thought that the statue resembled the mythical creature that proposed a riddle to the Thebans and killed all who could not answer. During the Ottoman empire the Turks used its nose and beard as target practice and today archaeologists are restoring it.

We fobbed off 1001 tourist touts lining the road and made our way up to the 187 metre high Pyramid of Cheops, the tallest in the world. Along the way ragged men with whistles claiming to be officials demanded to see our tickets (only to be disappointed as we ignored them!), families and youngsters with ghetto-blasters played loud Arabic music, locals dumped their rubbish, teenagers climbed the pyramid next to the huge "no climbing" sign, and a horde of other intriguing characters on very sad looking animals all set the modern scene. Through all this, the smog hovering behind and the crush of Cairo grasping its claws closer to the sites, I was thrown back millennia. Lost in my own world I reached out to touch the ancient stone and was instantly thrilled by all the power and mystery that once lay inside. Sadly the tomb was closed for restoration so we moved further down to the 130 metre high Pyramid of Chephren (who was Cheops' son).

We bought tickets to enter out first pyramid and at the entrance crouched down, till our bodies measured the height of a metre. The passage sloped steeply downhill and with every small step I took in the perfection of the claustrophobic surrounding walls and felt the magic of the tomb as though I was the first explorer to find it. The stones were bare and at the bottom ran along the flat and into the burial chamber, containing the large red granite sarcophagus of Chephren. The room held nothing else but crumbling stones thrown in the corners, the potent smell of sweat, very thin air, the stifling heat and the odd dark adjoining chamber holding nothing but the warden's rubbish. The thought that tomb robbers had been here millennia ago ran excitedly across my mind and from what lies here now one can hardly imagine the immense treasures of the Pharaohs.

From then on we passed more ruins in the sand and Chephren's mortuary temple, until we came to the Pyramid of Mycerinus. This seldomly visited site seemed even more claustrophobic than the last. Its low roofed ceiling lead down to a main chamber, much like the last and whilst on my hands and knees I came across some wall carvings illuminated under light. Although they were only decorative they were the first we've seen in a tomb and therefore quite significant. Again the treasures of the tomb were long gone and only the dust of centuries remained. Other small rooms ran off this main chamber, holding nothing significant but the sheer joy of being able to explore dark passages. After coming up from the stifling interior we came across a magnificent tomb hidden under the sand and un-noteworthy ruins. The official attendant saw us coming and in a very dusty suit came running. After a few moments of polite and welcoming conversation he grabbed my hand and whisked us both into the tomb for a tour. Although I should have told him to let go as later this friendly gesture by accident or on purpose turned into a brush past my breast. Anyway, you live and learn. The wall paintings, hieroglyphics and carvings were as beautiful as a jewel in a storm, and were our first taste of elaborate tomb decoration. Upon returning into the fading afternoon light we found the site deserted and made our way past more windswept ruins towards the sand dunes overlooking the pyramids.

A British film crew and archaeologist joined us a few metres away. Dave and I spent a very relaxing hour watching hues of pink fall across the faces of the three pyramids as we listened to the archaeologist talk about ancient Egyptian alignments and their astronomical connections. Some tourists on camels passed us below, casting alluring shadows across the sands. At odd intervals a 747 jet would fly overhead, breaking up the silence and offering yet more contrasts.

A 6pm we began to make our way back, but were cut off by cunning tourist police on camels demanding pens. They escorted us back but would not let us exit near the Sphinx because the expensive sound and light show was about to begin. Instead they shuttled us through the sand, as we constantly tagged behind their camels hind legs trying to keep up. I almost felt light an ancient Egyptian slave, minus the ropes and chains. They led us across to some hills and to the cemetery, where we were told to make out way back into town. Darkness had descended over the landscape and whilst being hidden behind some rocks we took a drink stop and waited for the light show over the Sphinx and Pyramids to begin. Just as a deep English accent bellowed out through loud speakers and threw us back into the Pharaonic world the police reappeared and told us to leave the site. We moved on through town, past children playing football on the road, donkeys pulling carts, and the simple mud-bricked abodes, until we stood right outside a KFC outlet overlooking the entrance gate. This gave us a free uninterrupted view of the show and the laser show was spectacular, depicting hieroglyphics, rainbows of colours, and lighting up the causeways to the Nile where the Pharaoh's Solar Barque (ship) would take him to the underworld.

We then were joined by some other travellers and after the show made our way to the bus stop where we were all going to enjoy the crush of public transport. The local youngsters played football with bare feet on the road, whilst under a streetlight cats and dogs rummaged thought the bins and entertained us. I threw a bottle in the bin and was surprised by five mangy cats jumping out. We were the first to join the bus but by the end of the one-hour journey to Midan Tahrir there must have been at least 80 people on board. They chatted with us all the way in but if I hear one more Egyptian trying to buy me for a few camels I think I'll scream.

It was ten by the time we dragged our weary bones into the room and to finish off we say at our favourite dinner table with a shwarma and drink. If only the Pharaohs could see the modern mess that's been created below on the square. Ma'as salama.