Egypt round two

Any normal Saturday in November, I’d sleep in, eventually drag myself into the snow and cold and do boring things like grocery shop before returning home shivering to have a hot bath and warm up. But this particular Saturday I woke up at the crack of dawn to make the three-hour bus ride from the port to the pyramids of Giza!

And then Moses sold me a ride on one of his camels!

This camel ride (a steal at 10 US dollars for twenty minutes), was definitely the highlight of the trip! And if you can believe it, my 90-year-old grandma braved a ride on a beast too!

My escort – a tough kid who demanded double the recommended tip and wouldn’t take no for an answer: “That’s just for my camel. You need to tip me, too!”

And now: Camel, Unplugged. In all its farting, heavy breathing glory.

And there's the Sphinx. And some guys digging for something in front of it.

I love tourists. Especially when they're family.

Those camels would never win a beauty contest but their stench is second to none. Therefore a post-desert stop at a perfumery called the Golden Eagle (another government shop) was welcome.

There were rows upon rows of beautiful crystal bottles of every colour. And we learned interesting facts like: most of the world’s perfume come from essences created in Egypt, which are then shipped to France, where the big perfume-makers mix them with alcohol so they’ll evaporate faster and you’ll have to buy perfume more often. True story.

Right from the source we could buy the essential oils, minus the alcohol, of such fragrances as cK One (essence of “Tut ankh amoun”) or the legendary Chanel No 5 (“Five Secrets”). For the more amorous some so-called “dangerous” scents were available.......“Arabian Night”, which we were told was good for honeymoons; or “Secret of the Desert”, to be used only after midnight – “but be careful, ladies,” warned our slick and entertaining salesman, “as just 3 drops make man like crazy horse!”

“Can you get this stuff in pails?!” someone cracked. (That person later bought a big bottle of each.)

I myself was tempted by “Harem Perfumes”...but then I thought, where would I wear it??

* * *

Lunch was a great experience at this open-air restaurant somewhere in Cairo.

American-style appetizers

Afterward we crossed the Nile to get the National Museum, with the most incredible collection of Egyptian tombs, mummies, jewellery and other artefacts that I will probably ever see in my life. The only downside was that the museum was so packed with tourists it felt like the Yonge and Bloor subway station at rush hour.

Unfortunately the masses also put an end to our plans for a visit to the open-air spice market and bazaar. A few of us were dreaming of brightly-coloured pyramids of exotic saffron, cumin, black pepper...but the Cairo traffic was so bad we hardly moved a block in an hour. I wasn’t completely bored, as the windows of the bus were apparently not tinted enough to prevent men catching glimpses of me and blowing kisses.

Our only chance for shopping turned out to be at a well-equipped rest stop/strip mall outside the city on the way back to the boat. All I wanted was a magnet, and I figured that I was used enough to Egypt by then that I could go off alone for a few minutes.

I stepped into a large convenience-type store and the two men inside were instantly all smiles. As soon as I asked whether they had any magnets, the younger one about my age, with short black hair and fairly bad teeth, somewhat furtively led me down the aisle to the right spot....

He stopped his questions only long enough for compliments. “Where are you from? -- Oh, I LOVE Canada! Your hair is beautiful! What’s your name? -- Your green eyes are incredible!!”
[They’re blue...]

He sidled closer and closer as he said all this, eventually slipping his arm around my waist before finally blurting, “Can I kiss you?!”

Before I had time to react, he’d leaned over and planted a big wet one...on my cheek.

Needless to say, I extracted myself rapidly and not-quite-ran out empty-handed!

I spent the rest of the break sticking close to the others...and thinking that Italian men have nothing on Egyptians. (Actually, for the record, I’ve never been harassed in Italy. Except for that one time on a packed Genova bus in rush hour...when the normal-looking guy next to me suddenly grinned at me weird and I looked down to see something sticking out of his pants...

YIKES!)