Oh sure, I had the same experiences as many have had in Egypt: I alternately loved it and hated it. Sometimes I loved what I hated about it, the friendliness that borders on intrusiveness, gritting my teeth as I graciously got my picture taken with a stranger one more time. Sometimes I hated what I loved, the inexpensiveness that transforms into constant expectations of "baksheesh," getting fired up for being charged 10 cents more as a tourist tax.
I hated that I was not at all awed by the pyramids of Giza, and certainly not the Sphinx, which is much smaller than it even looks here, with the help of those wily geometrically-minded Egyptians. It's hard to take their mathematical genius seriously when there are motorized, stuffed camels for sale 20 feet away and a KFC across the street. But I loved being able to wander wherever I wanted, even out into the desert, away from all the touts and monetary favors, including the keeper in the Pyramid of Khafre, who wanted some change for him telling others not to take photographs after I was required to surrender my camera with Tim before entering.
I loved the amazing breadth of information available in the dusty confines of the Egyptian Museum in Cairo and the slick structure of the Bibliotheca in Alexandria. At the library, one of its initiatives is to archive every single page of the Internet since 1994. That's not every URL address, that's every page of every Web site, including the Flying Spaghetti Monster. But I hated the lack of a clear organizational system for this vast knowledge. After looking at the umpteenth sarcophagi, I still had no clear understanding of the meaning or importance of all those Ramses dynasties.
I hated how Luxor was a boiler, both in terms of the temperature and the pressure on tourists. We spent three hours in a bar one afternoon to escape the heat and rackets; we were so happy with our cold beers that we didn't even care about getting to Karnak, purportedly one of the most stunning sites in the Nile Valley. But I loved Luxor and its temple -- which we also didn't go in to see, bad travelers that we are -- at night, when the place seemed like a real city, not just a port for cruises. It took us only a few seconds from the train station to be offered hashish and find falafel for less than 25 cents (the food, that is, not the drugs).
I loved how I was finally impressed by the Valley of the Kings and the Necropolis, both for the reconstruction of the Temple of Hatshepsut, which showed the architectural excellence of the society, and the preservation of the drawings there and in all the tombs, which held their colorful grandeur for over three thousand years. But I hated how the "traditional" show at the alabaster factory was clearly orchestrated, with each guy acting on cue when his part of the carving process came to light. And of course, our guide was in on the performance; had we bought anything, he would've got a cut of the proceeds.
I hated leaving Dahab, plain and simple. After more than 10 days of constant negotiating, being at a place where the costs were set, albeit pricier, it was nice to simply relax between eating a huge $2 breakfast and snorkelling to see some tropical fish. Oh, I loved opting to walk around, read a book, and drink some beers rather than hike up Mount Sinai, where I'm sure some helpful soul would've wanted an offering for taking a photograph of the view.
I hated that I was not at all awed by the pyramids of Giza, and certainly not the Sphinx, which is much smaller than it even looks here, with the help of those wily geometrically-minded Egyptians. It's hard to take their mathematical genius seriously when there are motorized, stuffed camels for sale 20 feet away and a KFC across the street. But I loved being able to wander wherever I wanted, even out into the desert, away from all the touts and monetary favors, including the keeper in the Pyramid of Khafre, who wanted some change for him telling others not to take photographs after I was required to surrender my camera with Tim before entering.
I loved the amazing breadth of information available in the dusty confines of the Egyptian Museum in Cairo and the slick structure of the Bibliotheca in Alexandria. At the library, one of its initiatives is to archive every single page of the Internet since 1994. That's not every URL address, that's every page of every Web site, including the Flying Spaghetti Monster. But I hated the lack of a clear organizational system for this vast knowledge. After looking at the umpteenth sarcophagi, I still had no clear understanding of the meaning or importance of all those Ramses dynasties.
I hated how Luxor was a boiler, both in terms of the temperature and the pressure on tourists. We spent three hours in a bar one afternoon to escape the heat and rackets; we were so happy with our cold beers that we didn't even care about getting to Karnak, purportedly one of the most stunning sites in the Nile Valley. But I loved Luxor and its temple -- which we also didn't go in to see, bad travelers that we are -- at night, when the place seemed like a real city, not just a port for cruises. It took us only a few seconds from the train station to be offered hashish and find falafel for less than 25 cents (the food, that is, not the drugs).
I loved how I was finally impressed by the Valley of the Kings and the Necropolis, both for the reconstruction of the Temple of Hatshepsut, which showed the architectural excellence of the society, and the preservation of the drawings there and in all the tombs, which held their colorful grandeur for over three thousand years. But I hated how the "traditional" show at the alabaster factory was clearly orchestrated, with each guy acting on cue when his part of the carving process came to light. And of course, our guide was in on the performance; had we bought anything, he would've got a cut of the proceeds.
I hated leaving Dahab, plain and simple. After more than 10 days of constant negotiating, being at a place where the costs were set, albeit pricier, it was nice to simply relax between eating a huge $2 breakfast and snorkelling to see some tropical fish. Oh, I loved opting to walk around, read a book, and drink some beers rather than hike up Mount Sinai, where I'm sure some helpful soul would've wanted an offering for taking a photograph of the view.
