Cairo hits you as soon as you enter the arrivals hall at its International airport. Well, if you have arranged a tour and your agent is there to greet you, then perhaps it’s more of a slight caress across the jowls. But we hadn’t arranged any such thing, and so willingly ran the gauntlet of haggling taxi drivers, in search of a ride to our hotel. It was pretty late when we landed and the last thing we wanted to do was haggle. "Can’t we cut to the chase please?" Fortunately, we had read up before hand and knew what fare to pay, and so it became a pretty amusing exercise to hear the outlandish fares being thrown at us. Margaret stood her ground and found a chap, Ahmed, with a limousine, who was prepared to get us to our hotel for 80 Egyptian pounds. Now, limousine is a bit of a stretch, not because it took up half a street in length, but because it was in fact just an ordinary sedan. The word taxi is reserved for the little black mobile Molotov cocktails of the Lada persuasion, as we discovered later. Our hotel, the Sofitel Maadi, was in a southern suburb of Cairo, called El Ma’adi and about a 30km run from the airport, so 80 EGP, a fraction north of 7 GBP, was a fair price by local standards.

Leaving the gaggle of taxi men behind us, our stretch limo left the airport, heading south through the suburb of Heliopolis, following a sweep of road, past Islamic Cairo, and then the walled Citadel, before finally hugging the Nile, Il Cornish, the remainder of the way to El Ma’adi. Despite the late hour, traffic was not just busy but beyond chaotic. Lanes are marked on the road, but most drivers seem to prefer to straddle the line-markings and not to use their indicators, (probably because they don’t work) as a more proven method is to simply give the driver in front, side or rear a blast of your horn to let them know that you have already begun moving. A little more unnerving was the fact that seat-belts are deemed unnecessary in Cairo, which Margaret expressed concern on to the driver: to the response "No problem in Cairo madam!" Thankfully, we arrived at our hotel in one piece around 1am. Shortly after, we had checked in and also arranged a day tour of Saqqara and the Giza Pyramids for the following morning. 8am start.

Up early with a groan. Saqqara, lies about 30km south of Cairo city and is the ancient necropolis of Memphis, which in it’s heyday was the centre of Egypt. Having only a few meager pickings of Egypt’s ancient history, it suddenly dawned on me, how old the Pharaoh civilisation was and how long their realm spanned for. In short there are 3 periods of Pharaoh history, which are divided into the Old Kingdom, Middle Kingdom and New Kingdom. Saqqara and the Pyramids of Giza are from the Old Kingdom era. Saqqara is quite significant, because it’s focal point, the magnificent Step Pyramid, was the first stab at building a pyramid, and it was a bit of an afterthought really. The pyramid was built gradually over time, and has the honour of being the world’s oldest stone monument. Technically, the Step Pyramid is not the first official pyramid, given it’s stepped countenance. The first true pyramid is in fact the Red Pyramid, a little further to the south of Saqqara in Dahshur.  The Step Pyramid and the entire funerary complex of the 3rd Dynasty Pharaoh, Zoser, was very fascinating. Zoser’s architect Imhotep built the thing in around 2650 BC. That’s pushing near 5,000 years old. It’s beyond difficult to fathom the scope of time. Of course the Step Pyramid is the most visible landmark in a vast necropolis where the subjects of Zoser were buried. The entrance to the site is through a pillared Hypostyle Hall, which leads to the Great South court. I particularly liked this limestone wall adorned with a frieze of cobras, which seemingly eyed the Step Pyramid. The cobra is one of the ancient symbols representing Egypt, our guide informed.

A Frieze of Cobras and Zoser’s Step Pyramid

Our Egyptian guide to Saqqara and Giza, was a bloke by name the of John. Quite a surprising name for Egypt, given it’s near 90% Muslim demographic. In fact John was not a Muslim, and actually a Coptic Christian. The Coptic’s separated from the Catholic church eons ago, and what was interesting to learn, that in the first few hundred years of AD, Egypt was in fact Christian. The word Coptic is one that simply means Egyptian. What fascinates further about Egypt is that throughout history they have been ruled by the Romans, Arabs, the Ottoman Turks, Alexander the Great, and have even had governance from the French and the British. But back to Saqqara, one other little thing we discovered on this visit, is that when a local says "Welcome", and then insists you have a photo with him, or indeed he may show you some nook and cranny of the ancient site, then this comes with it a tax. We discovered this pretty quickly, and in fact just about everywhere you go in Egypt, someone is hitting you for cash, or as they call it "Baksheesh!". I’m not sure what the Arabic translation for this word is, but it pretty much means "money for nothin’". The photograph below is one such "Baksheesh"  moment.

A Baksheesh Moment, Saqqara

Leaving Saqqara we headed back to Cairo and to Giza. It was around 10:30am and already a stifling 37 degrees Celsius. Our driver took us through some side streets of Saqqara, revealing very impoverished conditions. One particular road followed an irrigation canal (fed by the Nile) which was swamped in rubbish and other refuse. Houses were ramshackle buildings to say the least, and the other thing that struck me, was that even a short distance from the city, much of the transport was by donkey.  Donkey carts, laden with agricultural produce and other wares was a very common sight. Another world!

The Pyramids of Giza, one of the 7 ancient wonders of the world, and the only one which still stands today, loom above the urban haze of sprawling Cairo. This was the sight which greeted us after navigating the southern suburbs from Saqqara. It’s a bit strange seeing the Pyramids for the first time. My first memory of the Pyramids, was from the Australian film, Gallipoli, and so I had visions of the Pyramids rising from the middle of a sweeping desert, as opposed to the urban circus that is Giza. After visiting a Giza perfumery, and taking some respite from the heat, my desert expectations of the Pyramids were somewhat appeased when our driver brought us to the Giza plateau at the base of the largest pyramid, Khufu (or Cheops). Not without some Egyptian antics though. The road that leads to the site entrance is crawling with camel and horse ride touts. They are quite brazen, and rather nonchalantly stand in front of an oncoming car, with the view to stop the driver, take the opportunity to swindle him/her into heading to one of their nearby stables, so the driver’s passengers (tourists no doubt) can take in a camel ride. Our driver was having none of it, and called this particular camel-peddlers bluff, driving right through. The camel guy stepped away at seemingly the last second, and so we arrived at the Khufu Pyramid, a little bemused. Our guide had secured us tickets to the Giza pyramids site, and also a ticket to go inside the Khufu Pyramid – yes, go inside. This was a bit of a coup, given literature suggested an 8am queue was required to get a ticket to visit the inside of Khufu. Apparently, tickets are limited to 300 a day, but as our guide acknowledged, money usually opens closed doors in Egypt.

The sheer enormity of feat that it was to build the pyramids of Giza was not lost on me. The limestone blocks are enormous, and as to how they managed to stack these blocks, one on top of another at a precise angle, creates awe and near disbelief at how 4,500 year old Pharaoh technology and co-ordinated human effort could have achieved this. Visiting the inside of the Khufu pyramid was as surreal as it was claustrophobic. John, our guide, took care of our cameras, as these were not allowed inside. The entrance to Khufu, a few flights of hewn stone from the base of the pyramid, is like entering an ancient mine. A few ducks of the head at first, and then this leads to a board walk of sorts. Perhaps a board-haunch is more fitting though, as it is steeply inclined at around 35 degrees (no I didn’t have my protractor with me…left it in the hotel), and the Khufu visitor has to hold onto a support rail either side and haul themselves up, making sure to watch their head. The first incline was the most claustrophobic. After this, it opened up into a large narrow cavern allowing you stand upright on yet another steeply inclined ramp until you reached the top and to the King’s burial chamber. The entrance to the chamber required a virtual crawl (virtual for ginger short-arses and a definite crawl for taller folk), and there you were, 100 metres above the base of the pyramid and in a very bare granite chamber. A lone empty sarcophagus was at one end. My initial reaction was, "was that it?" But, then the reality check dawned. We were inside the largest and oldest Pyramid of Giza, which had it’s construction completed in 2570BC. Okay, so that was a very sobering thought of coolness.

Pyramid Panorama, L-R: Khufu, Khafre, Menkaure

Descending was much easier than going up. Probably because I knew what to expect in terms of claustrophobia, and more so because it would be quite a relief seeing outside again. Irrational thoughts of being entombed in this elaborate limestone grave were gnawing away at me, until we alighted the last ramp, and could see daylight peeping ahead of us. At this point, one of the Pyramid officials, took Margaret and I to one side and urged us to go and take a look at something of interest. At which point he showed us another ramp, this one descending into the bowels of the pyramid. This was closed off to the public, thankfully. For some reason the thought of descending a narrow shaft was about as appealing as shovelling camel guana. We thanked the official of the Baksheesh persuasion, and hurried out of Khufu, before he had time to press us for dosh. Our guide was waiting for us with a camel driver. We declined the invitation, as we had had the camel ride experience in Broome, Western Australia years ago, and figured it was the same hump, different sandpit. Man, up-sell, cross-sell, side-sell, these Egyptians hit you for everything. It brought a whole new meaning to Pyramid selling.

At this point, we headed back to the car, and took the Giza plateau road, which traverses the rear of Khufu’s pyramid, sweeps past Khafre’s Pyramid and then further out, to a vantage point, where all 3 pyramids of Giza: Khufu, Khafre and Menkaure can be viewed in a panorama of frantically snapping tourists. We joined the camera melee quite happily. It was a magnificent view. Giza desert plateau, all 3 pyramids and the smaller Queen’s pyramids, backlit by the urban pall of Cairo. Khafre was the son of Khufu, and his pyramid was built on higher ground than that of his father, although, despite it being smaller in height, the illusion is that it is larger. It also has some if it’s original polished lime-stone casing at it’s peak. Was kind of disappointing to learn, that all the pyramids used to have this covering, but it was taken away over time as part of the materials for building mosques and temples. It would have been an incredible sight seeing these polished pyramids glinting in the Egyptian sun.

Afterwards, we drove back towards the pyramids and to the Sphinx, that enigmatic icon of ancient Egypt and just about every tourist brochure you lay your hands on. It was later afternoon when we visited, and the Sphinx was almost in near silhouette as the sun was descending behind it and the pyramids of Khafre and Khufu. Although smaller than I thought it would be, the image of Sphinx and pyramids was still a feast for the eyes. It is thought the Sphinx was of Khafre’s era and is meant to be his face, atop that of a lion’s body. Was kind of thinking, why did they use a lion, when there aren’t any lions in Egypt? Then I thought, the English get away with using the lion as a national symbol, so why not the Egyptians? Well, jesting aside, Egypt has a better story. Lions used to abound in Northern Africa 4000 years ago, but have since been pushed deeper into Africa due to the expanding human population and hunting.

The Sphinx and Khufu (Cheops) Pyramid

The Sphinx closed to visitors right on 4pm, and so our day out visiting the ancient Pyramids and funerary complexes of Egypt drew to a close. Although, not before watching the antics of a couple of kids trying to flog their post-cards to the flock of tourists who were now filing out of the Sphinx site. Our guide has us on our way once again, and our driver successfully negotiated the 30 minute Cairo traffic frenzy, crossing the Nile river to our hotel in El Ma’adi. Maybe, that’s why Egyptians love a haggle, I thought. The same brazen attitude exercised in an Egyptian haggle certainly extends to their driving. Seems mandatory to be able to cut through traffic with the same hard-nosed flair as you would cut a deal on the streets. Basic Cairo survival skills! We had a late night flight to Luxor, and so a few hours to kill. For the next few hours then we watched the sunset over the Nile and Pyramids, before having dinner and reflecting on all that we had seen, before our 9pm limousine was due to arrive and take us to the airport.

Sunset over the Nile and Pyramids, El Ma’adi, Cairo

Our limousine arrived a few minutes earlier than expected, and so I was quite impressed with Egyptian efficiency initially, but this quickly abated. I greeted the driver and informed him in my few words of Arabic, that we were headed to the airport and to Terminal 1, or "wahid" as is the Arabic word. Terminal 1 is for domestic flights to exotic Egyptian destinations like Luxor, Hurghada, and Aswan. We left the hotel at about 9:00pm, to catch our scheduled Egypt Air flight at 11:20pm. It should only be a 45 minute run to the airport, based on our experiences of the night before, but Saturday evening traffic in Cairo, requires at least another 15 minutes more. The traffic was indeed chocker, particularly as we navigated an overpass over Islamic Cairo. Cars weaving their way in and out of one another like a game of Tetris on steroids. But we got the the outskirts of the airport in good enough time, at around 9:50pm. I urged the driver to head to Terminal "wahid" as he was shaping to head to Terminal 2, the International terminal. Margaret, was asleep to my left, dead to the world, and I watched the signs unfold before me. "Terminal 1 – Domestic", "Sharm-al-Sheikh – Hall 3", "All other departures – Hall 1 and 2". At this point, our driver had a brain implosion, which is quite generous, because it operates on the premise that he in fact had one.  We came to a security check-point and there were signs beyond clearly showing the direction to Halls 1 and 2. However, our driver stopped the car, reversed and came back the way we had come. I was a little perplexed as to why he hadn’t chosen to follow the sign. "No, this is not right one!". Okay, so he then stopped to ask a punter on the side of the street where Terminal 1 was. Our driver acknowledged this man for his informative advice, drove another 10 yards, stopped to ask another local the same question. Our driver acknowledged understanding, and then proceeded to go in the opposite direction that the signs "Halls 1 and 2" suggested to go.

Me: "Why are you going that way?"

Nutbag Driver: "That way is wrong. New terminal. It has changed."

Me: "Just follow the signs"

Minutes later we are driving on the outskirts of Cairo airport, in what can only be described as the cargo area. Yet, another stop by our driver, and another question to a random passer-by as to where Terminal 1 was. "Ah, yes, shu-krun!" More feigned understanding from our driver, and we turned into a freight container holding area. A few Egyptian men were huddled over a radio and Turkish coffee, probably wondering why this taxi come Egyptian limousine was in this part of the airport. Eventually, the driver twigged that maybe he was barking up the wrong date palm, and headed back in the direction he came. "Halls 1 and 2" I interjected repeatedly at increasing volume levels. At this point, Margaret had woken up and was nonplussed by the banter between me and the driver as to where we should be going. "Surely, the driver knows where he’s going!", Margaret implied. "Um, you were asleep, we had already crossed that bridge Maggie, and nuked it! This driver has all the direction of a tailless cat chasing it’s tail!"

Eventually, the signs for "Halls 1 and 2" appear again. "Shan’ Allah!" (Arabic for God Willing!) Our driver stopped, and emitted a grunt that could only be interpreted as "WTF are we?". I pointed at the sign a mere 2 metres from his face, which read in English "Halls 1 and 2" and was also written in Arabic.  "Follow the signs!". It was now 10:30pm and I was getting a little bit anxious that we were going to miss our flight care of this dimwit. He took another turn, we came to another check-point. He asked the guard. I interjected. "What are you asking him?"

Nutbag Driver: "Ohhhhhh!".

Dear Allah, a revelation had finally appeared to our driver. He turned the car around and simultaneously said to me "You were right!". I shook my head in disbelief. We followed the signs to Halls 1 and 2, and low and behold we arrived where we should have been 30 minutes earlier. A last reassuring question to an official "Luxor?" The guard nodded amidst our driver apologising profusely. The only tip I had for him, was know your own airport dude. Rather tense, we made our way through airport security, checked in, and headed to Gate 12 with 30 minutes to spare before our departure. I noted a few Egyptian men, praying just beyond the security check-point. 3 of them kneeling on a mat, foreheads touching the mat in unison, bowing metronome like towards Mecca. Felt, like joining them and thanking Allah that we’d somehow made it. Now we were off to Luxor.