Pyramid Fast Track

by Chuck Michael
While working for Saudia Airlines in Jeddah in 1976-78, I had an opportunity to hop a free flight to Cairo. THE PYRAMIDS! My mind racing to mental pictures of Cleopatra, the mask of Tutankhamun, climbing to the top. My imagination immediately took me to every mental image Ieft in me of all the pictures in text books and magazines I had read as a child, but springing to life and escorting me through  their ancient wonders lost in antiquity. The line chief would only give me two days. “You  can have the weekend but  be  back on Monday. There ain’t a lot there to see anyway. Just a lot of sand and some big rocks. The place is full of ragheads, just like here and remember: they don’t call them Gypos for nothin’ ” “What a schmuck”, I thought to myself. That coming from a guy whose main life’s ambition is spending all he earns and all his time in Las Vegas. Typical of many of the contractors I met and lived with over there. “No Kultchaa” I thought and booked the flight for arrival in Cairo on Saturday morning.

After negotiating customs, emigration and the myriad of other formalities and torments endured by anyone visiting Egypt outside of a tour group...The Cairo Airport had no air conditioning. The officials seemed suspicious of everyone and every movement. Most of them were rude, contributing to the stress of the endless questions and glaring looks, plus there were soldiers every where carrying machine guns. I caught a taxi to a hotel and collapsed into bed for a couple of hours. That day I would sight-see around Cairo and visit the Pyramids the following day before catching a flight back to Jeddah on Monday morning.

“Taxi! Taxi!. A jalopy pulled to the curb along with ten others. Their drivers immediately accosted me.
“My Taxi” “My Taxi” “My taxi is the best in Cairo. Where do you want to go?  I take you anywhere. You want to go to the Pyramids. I take you there", yelled one louder than the rest. I opened his front door and hopped in. “Just drive me around for a while. I want to see a little of Cairo.”
“You want to see Cairo? I show you all of Cairo. You have American Dollars? I give you extra good service for American Dollars. You want to change money? I give you very good rate on Egyptian Pounds. You have British Pounds? British or Americani money. I have a wife and family depending on me to earn enough to feed and shelter them. We are very poor. I work for almost nothing if you have British Pounds or Americi Dollars. You have? Yes?"
“I changed money at the airport and only have Egyptian Pounds” I responded.
The cab immediately screeched to a halt.
“I can only take British or Americi moneys. My boss, he cut off my ears I bring him Egyptian Pounds. We only go here for British pounds. You get out here."
“Ok ok. I pay you in British Pounds. How much is it going to be?"
His eyes widened. “Oh very very cheap. very cheap. I drive you all over Cairo for British Pounds” he said with a wide grin.

“First I take you to the market. My friend who sells the best oils in Cairo. Cairo has the best oils in all of Egypt. Fragrant oils. Very very nice for your wife or girlfriend. You rub her with my friends fragrant oils and she makes extra good love to you. Egypt’s oils are the best oils in all of Egypt. I take you there now. He is very cheap. The cheapest in all of Cairo, and sells the best, not available anywhere else in the world. You are very lucky you chose my taxi my friend. You will thank me for years. Your wife will thank me. She won’t be able to keep her hands off you wearing the fragrant oils of my friend. We go now."
And on and on he went; rattling and extolling the magic of the love potions his friend had on offer. I bought a couple of bottles of exotic smelling oils and offered to pay with the Egyptian Pounds I had exchanged at the airport.

“No. I cannot accept Egyptian Pounds my friend. My boss. He cut off my ears I bring him Egyptian Pounds. You pay Americi or English Pounds."
“For crap sake. I’m going to wind up taking this $100 in Egyptian Pounds back to Jeddah with me. “
I pulled out a five pound note and handed it to him.
“That is all the British Pounds I have.” I told him.
“I have also fine Egyptian silk scarves. Your wife will never stop wearing and make beautiful love to you you give her one of these scarves. With two she won’t be able to keep her hands to herself. You buy for American Dollars I give you special price. You have a nice face. I like you. My prices are the lowest in all of Cairo. You...come back my friend as I turned for the cab. I make you special price."

I turned to the cabbie and told him that I would stay here and wander around for a while. He then informed me that he only wanted 15 pounds for the cab ride.
“Fifteen Pounds!” That is outrageous. Fifteen pounds for an 8 minute cab ride. That is ridiculous. I’ll give you ten and that is it. Even that is way too much. My hotel is only costing $20 a night. “
“If you don’t pay my fare, my friend, I must call the police. I’m sorry but it is the law. Do you know what it is like in an Egyptian jail? They don’t feed you and they torment you. It cost much money for a lawyer and ...ok. Look. because you are my friend and you buy some oils I make you a special price. You pay $12 Pounds.”

“ Ok 12 Pounds.”Exhasperated, I handed him 15. He said he would have to go get change at the bank. I rolled my eyes and started walking down the street.
“You want cab ride? My cabbie is waiting for you to return for cab ride.” It was the kid who was sitting in the rear seat of the cab when I first hopped in. I assumed that he was another fare to be dropped
off.  No. As I learned later this kid is a ‘chaser’, hired by the cabbie to make sure that my next cab ride would be in his.
“You come now. I show you the cab. We ride now ok?
I walked through a few streets, soaking up the atmosphere, chaotic as it was. Vendors hawking their wares, children pestering me for anything they could get, chickens and goats, and always the kid. After a half hour I followed the little pest back to the cab.
“He is coming. He is coming!” the cabbie standing on the curb immediately dropped his conversation he was having with other cabbies and turned to greet me.
“My friend! You have once again decided to go in my cab. Oh thank you. I knew you would return. I have the best cab in all of Cairo. Did you enjoy your walk through our magnificent city?”
“I came back because you owe me three Pounds. Where is the Cairo Museum?”
“The Cairo Museum? Oh, it is only a short distance from here my friend. You will really like it. We have many things to see there. I take you there very cheap.”
There is much to be learned dealing or trying to deal with an Egyptian cabbie. I was on the fast track, sitting at the head of this cabbie's class. 

“Ok. You owe me three pounds. I will see how long this next ride is and pay you accordingly.”
“Yes! You pay me accordingly. I give you a very great ride. You will be there before you are knowing it.”
“Ok. Make it quick. I don’t have all day. I don’t want you touring me all over the city to get there, you understand?”
“Oh yes my friend. Straight there as fast as I can go. I am waiting you outside.”
“Whatever.”, I replied.
My next lesson was never to tell an Egyptian cabbie to “make it quick”.
What followed was the most harrowing ride of my life. Disney’s Space Mountain Imagineers surely must have done field research in an Egyptian cab with orders to “make it quick.”
Buildings went by in a blur. Up and down alleys, over sidewalks, horn blaring, full on brakes then flooring the accelerator. Bumping over curbs, running stop lights, pedestrians and street vendors leaping for their lives; finally screeching to a tire burning halt in front of two lion-headed sphinxes; the entrance to the Cairo Museum.

“Holy Mother of God”, I thought to myself, overcoming the urge to get out and kiss the earth.
“How much?” I asked cynically.
“Oh very cheap price for...”
“Yeah Yeah How much?”
My clothes were a mess with sweat. I had bumped my head on the roof and had to brace myself with both arms against the dash to keep my teeth from being smashed out on one of his emergency stops.
“ Ok You owe me three Pounds. How much for the ‘quick ride?”
"Quick rides cost more my friend."
“Only fifteen more pounds my friend. I owe you three so now it is only 12 Pounds. You pay me now and I will wait you.”
“Look. I only have five pound notes. I give you ten pounds and when I come out we can make up the difference on the ride back to my hotel. Fair enough?”
“I will gladly wait you my friend, but you must pay me now all of my fare or I must call the police. It is the law. If I don’t report it they take me to jail and cut off my ears. “
Memories of my trip through the Cairo airport sprang to mind and he still had both of his ears.
“Ok ok. Here is fifteen. I handed over the bills in frustration never expecting to see him when I came out.
I paid the entrance fee to the Museum in Egyptian Pounds. “Well, thanks for that. I may have to return frequently to get rid of the Pounds I exchanged at the airport.”, I mused.

The museum was full of mummies and artifacts dug from the Pyramids and other excavations around Egypt. It was practically devoid of visitors. I had the place practically to myself. Cleopatra’s sarcophagus had her full body image carved into the underside of its lid, at least that is what the sign labled it as. I have subsequentally learned that her tomb has never been found. King Tut’s face mask was there. It was a magnificent piece of work. The fine lines etched in gold and porcelin could have been cut with a laser it was so intricate. I was viewing all to myself in the quiet ambience of the museum what my aunt had stood four hours in line to get a moments glance at when the exhibit went to Washington D.C. I will never forget the craftsmanship: beautiful, and made millenia ago.

“My demolition derby wannabe was eagerly awaiting for me two hours later, in the parking lot. He was waving to me frantically in the distance. Afraid, no doubt, that I would hop in a cab other than his. His chaser ran across the asphalt to greet me.”
“You have good time in the Museum? You see all the mummies? I never been in there but I heard there are lots of mummies. You come for a cab ride now ok? We go now. Right over here, my cabbie is waiting you specially.

The return trip to the hotel was relaxing. Having learned another lesson, I instructed him to take his time..
“Longer cab ride costs more my friend.”
Shaking my head with a dejected look I told him: “I don’t give a shit. Just don’t kill anyone on the way back to my hotel.”
“Ok No problem.” he said gleefully. I treat your ride gently. You will never have such a good ride as in my pleasant cab with my pleasant driving. “
“Yeah yeah. Just take me back to my hotel.” I mumbled.
In front of the hotel the drama continued about the fare.
“My friend. I make you a special price to ride to the Pyramids tomorrow. You pay me fifteen pounds now and I subtract the three pounds I owe you tomorrow at the Pyramids.
I pulled out three fivers and handed it to him, walking off shaking my head. I knew he would be there tomorrow. I started gobbling like a turkey in self depredation. Truly, I was being taken for a ride with this guy.

The following morning I emerged from my hotel to be accosted yet again by a crowd of cab drivers, all yelling for me to get into their cab. Someone was shaking my arm. I turned to see yesterday’s cabbie pulling me through the crowd toward his cab.
“OK ok. I was thinking of taking another cab because you are too expensive.”
“Oh No my friend. They are all pirates and would charge you twice what you are paying me. That one closest to you, his name is Abdullah. I know him. He is the meanest cabbie in Cairo. He even pays a police car to follow him around and arrest those who refuse to pay his high prices. You are fortunate that I was just happening by when I saw you walk out of your hotel. There are many cabbies in Cairo not nearly so honest as me. We go to the Pyramids now ok?
It was about 15 minutes to the Pyramids and I asked him to settle up on arrival.
“I tried to go to the bank for change but it was closed. They open and close when they feel like it. I will go again while you are visiting the Pyramids and get change. You pay me now and I will be waiting for you when you get back.”

I shelled out another 15 pounds, glad to be rid of him, and enjoyed a relaxing walk to the Sphinx The place, as well as the Sphinx is massive. I observed the myriad of small structures not shown in the tourist brochures, each a burial crypt for workers and engineers who died building the Pyramids. This was a city of the dead A massive graveyard. The Sphinx itself was rather crude, I thought . At that time it had not undergone its latest restoration in the late 1980s and evidence of Napoleon’s troops using it for target practice when he invaded Egypt was still apparent. Previous attempts at restoration had done more harm than good. http://www.touregypt.net/featurestories/sphinx2.htm

I thought that one day would have been satisfactory at the Giza pyramids I wished I had a week. I went into one of them, all the way up to the peak and into the sarcophagus room, partly smashed by grave robbers. It was asquare room that must have been at the apex or slightly below it for all the uphill walking I did through the stone corridor that led me there.. There was a little hole, pointing up at about a 45 degree angle through the stones. So the Pharaoh could make his way to Isis or whatever. He surely must have left long ago because there was no sign of his mumified carcas in the  sarcophagus. My hopes of climbing to the top of one of them were dashed when standing at the base of the largest, The Great Pyramid of Khufu, the adjacent stone came up to my chest. Looking up, identical looking ones invited me to the peak, some 500 ft up. No way, even at my young age of 35 at the time.
I donned a silly head dress offered by one of the camel drivers and took a ride on his camel, like thousands of tourists must have done before me.

The burial ground around the Pyramids impressed me as quite dangerous. there are unguarded pits at places, either dug there by the builders or excavated by archaeologists. I threw a stone into one of them and never heard it hit the bottom.

“Sahieb! Sahieb! You rent one of my horses yes? We can ride all through the desert on my horses Sahieb”.
"Oh No!"
I turned toward the voice to see a young boy of about 12 holding two horses.
I came to see the Pyramids, not to ride horses..” I replied.

I ventured onward with the kid and his horses following me, shouting the praises of his horses and what fun it would be to ride like the wind on the back of his horse. I had a second look at the horses. His horses were not worn out nags that I would expect for rent to tourists. I recognized them as Arabians by their truncated noses and spent the rest of the day riding around the Pyramids with my self proclaimed guide. What a salesman the kid was. The animal was spirited. We rode through the desert to a lonely structure in the middle of nowhere with the Pyramids visible in the distance.

“We stop here and drink tea ok?”
No doubt the kid got a kickback from the owner of the establishment like the cabbie and his friend who sold me the aphrodsiac oils. We sat in old wooden chairs on the porch, drinking tea and gazing at the Wonders poking out of the horizon. It was a pleasant experience and I was glad the kid had talked me into riding with him.

“You can come to my house tonight Sahib. I will introduce you to my brother and father. My sister has a little baby. You can meet her also. You want to come?”
An invite by a local Arab into his abode I thought. That is an invitation of a lifetime not to pass up.
“Yes. Thank you. I will come with you to see your house and meet your family.”

We rode the horses at the end of the day to his village nearby. We stabled the horses and he led me into a small bare room in his house. It is the only room I saw during my visit. There was no furniture and a single, unshaded light bulb hanging from a chord in the center of the room. The walls were white and rough adobe looking. I was invited to sit down by his father and older brother. We drank tea and later the brother left and reappeared with a hubbly bubbly hash pipe and the sister, who was holding her infant. My new friend said: “Here is my sister.”
“How are you Sis, I said, lacking something more appropriate.”
“Nice to meet you Sir”, and promptly turned and left.

The three of us, the young lad, his older brother and their old father and I in a red football jersey and cut-off jeans sat and talked and drank tea and smoked hashish well into the night. Stoned as I was, the thought crossed my mind that they were waiting for me to fall asleep so they could rob me. One of the side effects of cannabis, besides the munchies is paranoia. I had smoked enough pot in my past to know this. Even so I thought it would be best to beg my leave and alleviate the possibility of being relieved of my wallet. It may have just been the paranoia. I’ll never know because after paying the lad a reasonable sum for his horse, I thanked them for their hospitality and begged my leave. The young lad. I have forgotten his name, thanked me, we all shook hands before leading me out to the street and pointing the way to the cab stand. I caught the morning flight back to Jeddah.

I was to return to Egypt years later, spending a horrific night in the Cairo Airport Hotel, tomed in another blog, but never got another chance to visit the Pyramids. That weekend was one of my most memorable adventures.  Cairo, at the time of my visit in 1977, was a city of six million scraping to make a living in a city built for two million. The sights, the smells, the socializing with the people who live there left me with a lasting impression never since to be duplicated. I came to see the Pyramids and gratefully, left with much more than expected. .. in addition to remaining Egyptian Pounds and an unforgettable cabbie who still owes me my change.