18 hours to explore one of the most ancient civilizations on the planet. That was the only thought in my head as I made my way through customs at Cairo International Airport. It was 6 in the morning and I was coming off an entire day’s worth of flights from Cape Town and Johannesburg, but I was all smiles despite the lack of rest. On my way home from a three month study abroad in South Africa, I had purposefully booked a longer itinerary just so I would have some time to visit Egypt. To say I was excited was an understatement. Little did I know just what lay ahead of me.
I would like to start things off that Egypt Air is a phenomenal airline. I was offered meals, pillows, and a blanket on my overnight flight, and, due to having a long layover, was given a hotel room which included three meal vouchers. A free shuttle was offered to the hotel, and the airline handled all the paperwork for my entry visa free of charge. Good luck finding even half that level of service in the US (looking at you, Spirit Airlines). The complimentary hotel proved to be a blessing as I was able to spend the day in Cairo freshly showered and fed on a free meal.
After freshening up, I ordered an Uber on my laptop (no phone or debit card after my mishap in Cape Town) and soon found myself on the way to none other than the Giza Pyramids. Staring out the window at a plethora of ancient mosques, churches, and complexes, my excitement skyrocketed. The day could not be off to a better start. Again, little did I know what lay ahead of me.
Approximately an hour later, I notice the Giza pyramids off in the distance, and the driver pulls down a narrow side street, bustling with street vendors and horse-drawn carts. I keep an eye out for the main entrance as he slows down, and am a bit surprised when he stops in front of a random building. I’m even more surprised when a second man comes to my door, opens it, and promptly escorts me inside. The paintings of camels and deserts on the wall indicate this is clearly some kind of tour company. Sure enough, the guy asks me if I want the camel, horse, or carriage package. Now I’d done my research on the Internet and knew the locals loved to overcharge tourists for stuff like this, so I politely declined and said I was planning on exploring the complex on my own.
But this guy would not give up. He followed me outside the building, pointing to a fence and security camera on the other side of the road, in between us and the pyramids. He explained to me I couldn’t walk on my own and had to go with a tour guide. Again, I’d done my research online which clearly stated you CAN walk in on your own, and politely declined. I began walking away, and he began following me with his horse, telling me I was going in the wrong direction to the pyramids. Before I knew it, he had practically shoved me onto the horse, and offered me a “great deal” since he could “tell I was poor” (that part was funny I have to admit).
“1200 pounds and I’ll give you the best tour”. “
No thanks”. “
1100.”
“No.”
“1000.”
“No.”
“900.”
On an on and on, he keeps lowering his price and I keep refusing. I try to get off the horse, but he has an iron grip on the bridle. Eventually, he lets me off (after we’re at 400), and asks “at least something for the horse.” Ignoring him, I approach someone who looks like a cop or security guard stationed outside the fence. I ask him if I can walk into the pyramids alone, and after giving a long look at the Giza in the distance and the “tour guide” behind me, says I’m being offered a good deal and should take it. The Giza did look far and inaccessible from my current vantage point, and I had no phone to check Google Maps, so I decided to take the deal. I handed the tour guide 400 pounds, and he helped me on the horse. We were off.
Except that we weren’t. “50 more and I’ll make it worth your time,” the guide says as he leads me toward his horse. I of course refused, but one look at the guy told me he wasn’t budging. “50 more or I’m not taking you.” There was no way he was gonna simply give me a refund, so I begrudgingly handed him a 50. I’d only converted about 1000 pounds (and had no debit card), so spending half my cash in the first two hours was not the ideal way to start the day. At least I wouldn’t have to walk all the way to the Giza entrance, which surely must be miles from here….
We turn the corner and I couldn’t believe my eyes. There was the pedestrian entrance, 30 feet in front of us. If I had literally walked a little further I would have saved myself all this trouble. The guide says I’ll get a discount with my student ID, and I hand it to him as he cuts the line to grab my ticket. I notice adults cost about 240 pounds and students are 120, so I’m excited that I’ll at least get some money back. But the attendant hands my guide the change and…he pockets it without a second thought. Being by myself with no phone in a foreign country, I’m not exactly in a position to get tough with this guy, and all I can do is roll my eyes. We enter the complex, the guide on his horse, me on mine. I’m a bit bummed because I’m starting to realize I got scammed, but I decided to make the most of it and enjoy the experience. I am literally at the Giza pyramids after all.
Unfortunately, this “tour” was not exactly “worth my time.” We only rode to 21of the 3 pyramids, and his knowledge of the pyramids consisted of “the big one, the medium one, and the small one.” We did get to ride the horses through the desert, which was admittedly pretty fun, especially when he made them go fast (I was definitely holding on for life). He led me to a few picturesque viewpoints where I got off and walked around, and offered to take pictures for me (I of course, did not take him up on the offer as I had no phone). After about an hour, he led me to the front of the Sphinx and asked if I wanted to leave with him on horseback or stay and explore on my own. I, of course, wanted to explore, which definitely surprised him a little bit. I prepared to dismount the horse, but he gripped the bridle, stirring the horse and not allowing me to get off.
“I have taken care of you, and now it is your time to take care of me. Please tip me however you feel.” Uh, no. I already paid you way more than I needed too.
“Sorry, man, I don’t have enough money left.”
“Oh come on, I’m a hard-working, God-fearing man. I need to feed my daughter.”
“Sorry, I got nothing.”
“You know, times are tough. If you don’t tip me….I might have to kill the horse.”
I have no idea why he expected me to believe that. If I tipped him, I would be stranded here. I refused again, at which point he reminded me he still had my Student ID. By now, I clearly knew what kind of game this guy played, and knew there was only one way I was getting my ID back. I didn’t want to spend any more pounds, so I handed him 5 USD. That’s quite a bit of Egyptian money, so I figured he’d be more than happy.
“5 dollars? That’s ridiculous, that’s like 80 pounds. Give me your 20.”
There was no way I was giving him that much, but I handed him another 5. He griped for a second, but that seemed to do the trick. By now, I was very ready to get my ID back and be on my way. But he had one more question.
“Now I am a God-fearing, honest man, so I just want to make sure…..that this money is from the heart, and not by force.”
Really? Now I have to feed your ego too? What do you think the answer is?
But again, I was in no position to argue, and just wanted this guy out of my sight, so I assured him it was entirely from the heart. With that, he proceeded to make a lively show of kissing the money, thanked Allah, and rode off. Good riddance.
After that disaster, I explored the complex on my own. You know, so I could actually learn something, which apparently is not a privilege on one of these “tours.” I spent the next hour or two exploring the Sphinx, walking around the Great Pyramids, and even wandering onto the archaeological site nearby. Annoying tour guides aside (they call them “hawkers” here- and for good reason), the place really is amazing- and definitely worth the visit. It’s absolutely crazy seeing hieroglyphics and tombs in real life- and amazing how they were built so long ago. After all, the Egyptians are as old to the Romans as the Romans are to us. And the Sahara desert is truly a sight to behold- the miles of sand in every direction are surreal.
A few hours (and a lot of sunburn) later, I decided to get into the city to do some more exploring, With not enough cash (or Internet connection) for an Uber, I had no choice but to take the metro. I mistakenly believed the “Giza” stop meant the Giza Pyramids, and had to take the minibus to the actual station, which was the Giza suburb. Now a minibus is nothing like a bus in the US- it’s an old 12-passenger van with the engine exposed. I crammed into the back with other passengers, paid my 4 pound fare ($0.21!) and told the driver “Metro.” That’s about the only word both of us could understand. Now that I was with the locals, the only language was Arabic.
The Egyptian locals were extremely friendly- very different from the hawkers at the pyramids. I had a friendly conversation over Google translate with a guy around my age, and an older gentlemen, who spoke some English and could tell I was very out of place, got off at the metro with me, bought me a ticket, and told me where to get off (I was looking for the Egyptian museum). All the metro information, including the stops, was written in Arabic, so I was very fortunate to have some help. And I was the ONLY foreigner on the metro, so I stuck out like a sore thumb (although I was getting used to that feeling after spending 3 months in South Africa), and having him there definitely helped ensure no harm would come my way. After thanking my knight in shining armor, I got off at Tahir Square, and made my way to the museum.
While Giza was a suburb, Tahrir Square was smack in the middle of Cairo, and I could tell I was back in the city. Skyscrapers surrounded me on all sides, the Tahrir Square monument stood in the middle of a giant roundabout, and the Egyptian museum in front of me was surrounded by walls and a courtyard. I headed to the ticket station, and handed the guard 100 pounds, the student price.
“Can I see your ID?” I obliged, and he glanced at it with a frown.
“There’s no date of birth on here.”
“It’s a student ID, none of them have a date of birth in my country.”
“Hmmm, I can’t accept this, there’s not enough proof.”
Now I read the museum accepted any student ID, not just Egyptian ones, so I stood my ground. After all, it was twice as much for adults, and I was running low on cash after my Giza disaster.
“Slip me 150 and I’ll let you in.” The guard winked (corruption is fun like that, isn’t it?), I handed him the extra money, and made my way in. Of course, numerous people offered me a tour for as low as 300 pounds, but I knew better this time.
I spent about an hour exploring the museum, full of everything from sarcophagi to papyrus texts to giant statues. Unfortunately, a few attractions such as King Tut’s tomb were closed due to renovations, but the experience was definitely worth it. Once again, I was wowed by the ancient civilization before me, and stunned by just how long “Ancient Egypt” lasted (almost 5000 years!)
Exiting the museum, I decided to check out the Nile River and head to the Cairo Tower, located on an island in the center of town. Heading across the bridge, I’m approached by a middle-aged gentlemen who asks me where I’m going. Not wanting to get lured into another tourist trap, I reply that I’m simply walking around. He says I should check out this bazaar up the street that’s only open on Monday afternoons (just my luck), and asks if he can walk with me to “practice his English” while he heads to the bus stop. I’m a little suspicious, but this guy seems nice enough and I did hear of a big bazaar downtown, so I let him walk with me. We walk and talk, and have a pretty friendly conversation. He talks about his two children and life as a bellhop at the Marriot, and I tell him about my life as a South African (I figured saying I’m American would put a let’s-scam-him target on my back). While the conversation is pleasant, we walk through several blocks before we finally reach the bazaar. Well, “bazaar” is a strong word- it’s more like one corner store. The man shakes my hand goodbye and the shopkeeper welcomes me inside. Figuring I’ll look for a minute or two, I politely inform the shopkeeper I’m not going to buy anything and I take a quick look around.
“Oh no problem, I’m just happy to have a friend, just come look at my designs for a bit.”
He gestures me to a seat at a table, where he proceeds to take out a stack of papyrus scrolls, all of which have paintings on them. He asks me to look through them, and I agree, reminding him again I’m not interested in buying anything. I look at a few paintings, then thank the shopkeeper and begin getting up.
“No my friend, you must look at them all. It’s the polite thing to do.”
Now, there must have been fifty of these paintings in here, so I really did NOT want to look at every single one, but I figured I could get it over with quickly. I grab a painting, give it a quick glance, and then reach for the next one.
“No, no. Really examine it. Take your time, tell me what you like about it.”
Now this was definitely going to take awhile. I keep going through the paintings, making up random reasons why I liked them (they were nice paintings, but I just did not have the energy at this point). After one particular painting, he explains to me how there is a different design under the light. He then proceeds to shut the door and turn off the overhead lights. That’s not sketchy at all. Luckily, he simply holds the painting under the light to show me the other design, but I decided that was my cue. I stand up, thank him for his time, and turn to leave. Of course, he BEGS me to stay, but I tell him I need to get to the airport. He then tries to sell me a painting for “just 100 pounds.” So much for being happy to have a friend. This guy would not listen to ANYTHING I said, so I just walked out of the shop mid-conversation. And guess who was standing right outside.
I guess the middle-aged bellhop wasn’t going to the bus stop after all. As I walk back towards the bridge, he follows me and asks what I bought, surprised when the answer is nothing. Asking where I’m going now, I responded the metro, and he pointed me at a metro sign nearby. Thanking him, I head to the stop.
“You give me money now.” The man steps right in front of me, blocking my way to the metro.
“Oh sorry man, I don’t have anything.”
“Please, I’m a God-fearing man.”
I had spent more than enough at this point, and not in a very generous mood after finding out this whole hour-long affair was nothing more than a shakedown. Unfortunately, he kept following me, and again, I didn’t want to tempt fate by myself without a phone. I took out the lowest note in my wallet, a 50 pound, and slapped it into his hand. He began thanking me profusely, but I turned around and walked away without another word.
After briefly checking out the Cairo Tower and the Nile (and luckily being smart enough this time to ignore a few more hawkers), I Ubered back to the airport hotel, quite relieved to finally be safe from someone trying to scam me. My short time in Egypt had been exhausting to say the least, and not at all what I expected. I had read online that scams were common, but MAN was I not prepared for what I experienced. Needless to say, I don’t have a burning desire to return to Egypt anytime soon.
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