We rose in good time and breakfasted on bread rolls, hard-boiled eggs and coffee on the hotel balcony.
This was our first opportunity to examine our surroundings.
Zamalek is an affluent neighbourhood at the north end of Gezira, an island on the Nile right in the city centre. We overlooked a quiet tree lined street opposite the French Embassy and the first thing we noticed was the high level of security with armed guards outside almost every building and regular patrols up and down the street.
We talked over our plans and decided to start by taking it easy and getting our bearings.
The Pyramids and the Sphinx could wait until the following day.
We set off from the hotel in good time and walked up the street to the main road, stopping at a small shop to buy bottles of cold water. The August sun was very strong and the heat oppressive.
Sharia 26 July, the main road through Zamalek, was dominated by an enormous concrete flyover which carried the traffic into and out of the city centre.
At street level we passed small shops, jewellers, a few local restaurants and a little supermarket, open to the road, which acted as both a chemist and food store.
Everywhere were cafes and smoking houses, most were a simple room, open to the street, with a collection of tables, a counter serving Arabic coffee and fresh hookah pipes.
The streets were bustling with people, selling, buying, chatting in the shade and going about their business. We walked by taking in the scene and trying to be as invisible as possible.
We crossed the 26 July Bridge, admiring the great river Nile as it flowed beneath us to the sea. The traffic poured over the Bridge into the city. Cars, old buses, vans, bicycles, donkey carts and mopeds vied for position, honking and hooting.
We found some shade under the trees which lined the far bank of the Nile and rested a while. Hawkers and chancers approached us, trying to sell everything from wooden chess sets to paper napkins and chewing gum.
We dismissed them with a smile, but refused to be drawn. The people were friendly and regarded us with inquisitive good humour.
We continued into the main city centre.
After a while, a young Egyptian approached, enquiring about where we were from and how long we had been in Egypt. His English was excellent and we chatted about football and our impressions of Cairo.
He soon introduced himself as Alladin, an arts student from Giza.
I was a little suspicious at first and was convinced a sales pitch would materialise sooner or later. something like, “come and see my brother’s carpet factory, no need to buy, just look” or “my friend runs a government ceramics shop, very nice, very cheap. You want to see it, it is very near !”
We talked in the street for while and he asked if we had seen the Pyramids to which we replied that we were going tomorrow.
I can’t remember exactly how, but he suggested that he show us around and that we go with him to Giza where he lived. John and I exchanged glances and soon agreed.
A local guide would be a bonus.
We walked up the street to the main junction by the bridge and darted through the traffic to a small bus station. There were a number of small dilapidated minivans, each controlled by a hawker shouting in Arabic, collecting fares and herding people aboard.
Alladin directed us towards a small white minivan and we jumped aboard, grabbing seats at the back. We paid a small sum and sat back to enjoy the ride. We were soon on the move and chatting freely with our new guide, who delighted in pointing out the sights as we nipped through the traffic.
The van sped through the streets, an Egyptian shouting our destination from the window as we stopped to deposit passengers, and pick up new fares. We passed Cairo University and made our way out of the city towards Giza.
We pulled to a stop and Alladin motioned that this was our destination.
The Pyramids loomed large and dominated the skyline. I was impressed by their sheer size.
He said that he lived nearby and invited us to join him at a local café for a cool drink. Walking down a small side street, we came to a local café and sat around a small table in the shade, facing the street. A boy appeared to take our order and we sat back enjoying the scene and talking about where we were from and our impressions of Egypt.
The street was narrow, lined with small houses and shops, building work was going on a few houses down. A few cars inched their way down the street, avoiding groups of people, horses, carts and piles of building material and rubble.
It was refreshing to enjoy the shade and see a local area, undisturbed by tourism. We sat in the café for an hour or so, enjoying the atmosphere, sipping on Arabic coffee and sweet karkadi tea.
Alladin asked whether we wanted to see the Pyramids and told us about a friend who hired out horses for trips into the sand dunes around the Pyramids. He promised us a good deal and we agreed to go over and talk with his friend.
We paid for our drinks and Alladin led us through little alleyways and streets in the direction of the Pyramids.
We passed markets, little shops and stalls stocked with everything from petrol to crisps, fruit and tobacco. The dirt streets were narrow and strewn with rubbish and debris, stray dogs scavenged among the litter and scrawny cats darted away on our approach.
We followed Alladin, a little self-conscious that we stood out among the crowds. Young children took an interest in the two foreigners and every now and then shouted ‘hello’ and ‘welcome’ in our direction.
We crossed a wider street with a large central ditch, down a little alleyway and emerged onto a street which faced the open sands of the desert. The street was lined with stables and notices advertising riding trips around the Pyramids on both camels and horses. We soon arrived at the yard of Mohammed. Alladin showed us into his small office.
The room was covered in carpets and wall hangings. We sat on a low couch. Mohammed introduced himself in good English, switched on all the fans for our benefit and dispatched a young boy to find us a cold drink.
He told us about his stables and showed us a visitor’s book full of postcards and comments from tourists and visitors from all over the world.
He soon got down to business and offered us a trek through the sand dunes, a visit to the Pyramids and the Sphinx on horseback and an evening trip into the desert to see the sunset.
He also threw in a quick photo opportunity on a camel and was quick to offer us a discount as ‘friends’ of Alladin.
On day one of our world trip, our haggling skills weren’t up to much and we soon agreed a price. The boy arrived with cold drinks which we enjoyed before heading out to meet our guide and view our horses.
I hadn’t ridden a horse in years and was a bit anxious about suddenly mounting up and heading off into the desert.
As soon as I saw my mount, all my fears faded away. I was faced with a thin, bony, old nag, which I doubted would carry me. John was given a larger, healthier looking beast with a bit more life about it.
Solomon, our guide, assured me that my horse, amusingly named Michael Jackson, was fit and able, so I mounted up and we set off across the sand. The horses plodded along at a walking pace.
We crossed the sand dunes surrounding the Pyramids and passed by the Sphynx, before heading out again that evening to see a spectacular sunset across the desert.
So yeah... 