The Cairo traffic alarm clock wakes us at 6.00am again – always so reliable. We finish the last few bits of packing.  Peter meticulously checks that we haven't left anything in draws and cupboards (even though we didn't use them).  We mooch around the suite, take in the last arial views of Cairo from the balcony and then go to check out.   At the reception desk Peter asks the member of staff if he knew what the shooting was yesterday morning.  He tells us that somebody had tried to steal a car.  The police response to me seemed incredibly heavy handed as we must have counted over 20 police at the scene of the crime.

We leave our luggage at the hotel as we still have a few visits to make. We had spotted Abdul in the hotel car park earlier so again escape out of the back of the hotel through the coffee shop. We get a taxi back to the Khan – one and half hours certainly wasn’t long enough before. This time we seem to have been dropped off at a different entrance to the Khan.  We are now in a maze of narrow alleyways and can’t quite get out barings. Nothing to lose – we just found ourselves meandering along the streets taking in everything this wonderful scene has to offer.

http://www.sevenveils.co.uk/learning/articles/cairo.php

We have found ourselves in Wikala el Ghuria – the northern quarter of the bazaar. We stop briefly to read a sign that is promoting a workshop – craftsmen and women can be seen producing local handcrafts such as tapestry and inlay work. Whilst we read the sign Peter notices a young man in the spice shop next door watching us. Peter asks him about the workshop and we are told that it won’t be open for another two months. Peter strikes up conversation with him. He tells us his name is Mohamed and that if we want to see crafts being produced he will take us. We have no real itinerary so decide to take him up on his offer.

Mohammed tells us that this area was inhabited by many Turks. Turks came to trade here in the courtyard of the Wikala - his own father is Turkish and his mother is Egyptian. He asks us what crafts we would like to see in particular and told him lantern making as we hadn’t seen this yet. Peter and I had had great trouble trying to make contact with lantern makers directly – there are plenty of agents acting on behalf of the manufacturers but this wasn’t going to enable us to see the crafts being produced first hand and also find out about the crafts people themselves. He says he can take us but the lantern maker won’t be open until 1.00pm. In the meantime he takes us to an inlay workshop.

We follow him through the maze of alleyways. We go deep into the Khan until we come into a tiny courtyard and the entrance to the workshop. This feels like a secret place – a place where tourists are unlikely to stumble. We are away from the madness of the Khan – everything is silent. We are introduced to Mahmoud who invites us in. The workshop is tiny – no bigger than 3 metres by 3 metres. Every inch of the workshop is fully utilised with high shelves stacked with plain wooden frames and the carcases of jewellery boxes waiting to be decorated. In the corner a worker sits at a small bench carefully placing small bits of mother pearl into an already etched out design. Next to him is a pot of animal glue – a smell that takes me back to college in the 1970’s where I studied upholstery and cabinet making.

We are shown the shells, how they are cut and then how each inlaid piece is sanded down and lacquered to produce a high sheen finish. Hanging on every spare inch of the walls are inlaid picture frames, tambourines, shelves – all covered in a thick layer of dust – probably from the sanding process. On the wall is a small glass fronted cabinet. Mahmoud opens the cabinet which reveals a display of jewellery boxes. He takes a couple out and asks us if we know which ones are fake. Peter and I begin to examine them and tell him that we can’t see any difference. He takes a knife and starts to scrape the bottom of one – and then another. He tells us “you see, one is plastic and the other is camel bone”. He was referring to the frame on the bottom of the jewellery box. He then went on to tell us that they make the fake ones for the Khan and the real ones with camel bone for hotels and expensive shops in the city. I think at that point both Peter and I felt we're trying to be taken in with smoke and mirrors! He showed us one of the ‘real’ jewellery boxes and told us how the internal frame of the box was made from one piece of wood – not jointed. How it was lined very well and finished to a high standard and that the black wood was real ebony.

I look at a couple of the jewellery boxes and select one and ask how much. He tells us 75le. I suspect this is more than the true value but we agree on 75le and also buy a small picture frame for the same price. Poor Peter has haggling exhaustion plus he doesn’t like haggling when I’m with him – man’s work I think! We are invited into the courtyard to drink tea. Mahmoud smokes shisha and Mohammed joins us. The courtyard has a real charm.  These are ancient buildings and their history, the families that have lived in them – the essence of the lives and loves of generations of people, permeate the walls.

They chat in Arabic – Peter occasionally gives a translation for me – I’ll have to sack him as a translator I think! Mahmoud brings out a plastic wallet which is full of photographs. They are photographs of the pieces of work they have decorated from jewellery boxes to the most amazing pieces of furniture. Mahmoud is particularly proud of a Regency style seat that was commissioned by the French Ambassador. He explains to us that the cabinet makers in the Khan produce the wooden furniture frames. Glass makers in the Khan hand make any glassware for example on a glass fronted cabinet. Metal workers in the Khan will produce the handles and hinges and eventually the inlay workers will decorate and finish the pieces ready for delivery. Also in the Khan there may be a specialist to pack the pieces and also an export agency to ship it to wherever it needs to go. This truly is a co-operative approach to business – a network of tradesmen working together towards an end goal. I found myself reflecting on how different things were back in Garagos. A lone pottery in an isolated village – any contacts to pack and ship would have to be made in Luxor or maybe even in Cairo. We take a couple of photographs and say goodbye to Mahmoud. Peter tells me later that he thinks Mahmoud and Mohammed are related. I imagine generations of the same families have remained in the Khan for centuries.  

Mohammed takes us to the lantern maker whose workshop is now open. Again another tiny little workshop. Mohammed introduces us to the owner Hani who has a table outside where he is finishing the copper pieces. Inside another Mohammed shows us how he solders the copper panels together.  I only take a few photos and videos before the camera battery dies. I look around (standing on the same spot). Lanterns hang from the ceiling and are also stacked up on the floor – taking up three quarters of the floor space. There is also a shelf with small lanterns and candle holders.

Hani the owner shows us that some of the designs are based around traditional Islamic patterns and others represent the Coptic cross. The design he showed us of the Coptic cross had 12 points or sides which he tells us represent the 12 desciples.  

http://www.seiyaku.com/customs/crosses/coptic.html

Although the lanterns here have a certain charm, they are not the quality that I am looking for – the copper/brass is very thin and I doubt that some of them are copper or brass at all. We thank Hani for his time and leave.

Mohammed invites us back to his workshop for a drink – hibiscus tea. He picks up a handful of hibiscus petals and then summons a boy from the street to go and make the tea. Peter asks Mohammed if he can do a spice mix for us – Ras el Hanout in Morocco – Mixed spices in Egypt! After we receive our bag of spice Mohammed shows us his saffron. He produces two tins and he asks us to guess which is the good one and which is the bad one – oh heck – another yarn again! We’re not worried – Mohammed has been a fantastic guide around the area we have already decided to buy some saffron from him. Neither is real saffron but we play along with him anyway and then make the purchase.

The boy arrives with the hibiscus tea and we sit down and drink. Mohammed tells us that his father is a professional Tanoura (Sufi dancer) – otherwise known as a Whirling Dervish. He would be dancing in Wikala the following night. This is such a shame – I would love to have seen the show. We have seen many Sufi dancers in Luxor – they traipse from hotel to hotel and cruise boat to cruise boat doing the same show night in and night out. It is an amazing spectacle, very hypnotic to watch – and I would imagine even more so with a professional dancer.

http://focalfantasy.com/CultureTravel/Egypt/16822027_qQvmMM/1/1291238151_p9bB...

Mohammed tells us that he will get the key to his house which is above the spice shop. "Wikala was built in 1504 A.D. by Sultan Qunsuwah Al Ghouri, late during the reign of Mamelukes. Wakalat El-Ghouri was originally designed as an inn for accommodating traders coming from all parts of the globe as well as a marketplace for trading goods and a venue for making trade deals. Before the discovery of the Route of Good Hope, Egypt had been the hub of overland trade caravans from east and west …………"

http://www.touregypt.net/ghuriwakala.htm

Two minutes later Mohammed comes back and invites us to enter a large wooden doorway around the corner from his spice shop. We climb up four or five floors – I lose count – the heat is oppressive and I’m totally out of shape! We reach the roof of the building. Mohammed and Peter continue to climb over the rooftops – I stay and take some photographs – just absolutely wonderful views over the Khan and also of Cairo. This is just fantastic - we can see all the way over to the Citadel.

Peter and Mohammed return. We go back to the spice shop where we say our goodbyes. I’d love to come back and see Mohammed – he has been an excellent (unofficial) guide and has been a key to helping us unlock some of the secret treasures held within the Khan.

We cross a small bridge that takes us to the middle of the Khan – the part we are more familiar with. We decide to make another attempt to find Midak Alley. We wander up and down the streets we know – relying on our barings to guide us to this small area. We end up doubling back on ourselves a couple of times and then we eventually give and decide to go to the Naguib Mahfouz Café to eat. As we make our way there we pass a lantern bazaar. I notice a lantern in the same design that I have at home, hanging at the front of the stall. The owner – another Mohammed comes to talk to us. I ask him how much the lantern is and he says 180le. This was cheaper than what we had paid for it in a local shop in Luxor. I liked the fact that Mohammed hadn’t tried to haggle with us and start with some ridiculous price. He tells us that his family have a factory that produce the lanterns. We talk for a while – he shows us some lovely silver plated and copper coffee pots. We exchange details and tell him that we will contact him when we’re back in England.

We arrive at the café and order tea and a mezze to share. Babaganoush, tiny cheese pies, tahini, yoghurt dip, tameya, nice fresh bread – gorgeous! We sit and watch life go by for a while. Khan is a carnival full of lively characters. Everything is a show and I’m always entertained by the interaction between the locals and tourists. Some tourists are up for playing the game – others run the length of the alley, keeping their heads down and trying not to make eye contact with any of the vendors. Walking in the Khan definitely feels a little more 'full on'– from the vendors that is. It’s still friendly but just a little more 'in your face' than what I’ve experienced in the past. It’s definitely a much more comfortable experience than in the Souk’s of Marrakesh but business is bad here – 9 months into a revolution and everyone is desperate for the business. It’s now 4pm and we leave the café and the Khan and catch a taxi over to El Daher to visit Peter’s aunt Aziz and cousin Ayman.

We arrive at the apartment. Cake and tea await us. When I say I don’t have sugar in my tea this is met with great surprise. I now remember that every time I have been offered tea by Peter’s family and I say I don’t take sugar – it’s always met with a look of shock. Sugar although not expensive is a treat and a treat that is offered as part of their hospitality. Ayman is an account manager in a tour company in Cairo. Most young people seem to have employment connected to tourism in one way or another. We spend an hour or so – Peter and Ayman talking about politics and how bad the revolution has been for ordinary people so far. We now have to go and pick up our luggage from the hotel. Before we go to the airport we have one more family visit to make. Ayman walks us out.

We get a taxi easily outside on the street – the driver is a young guy called Mina. Back onto the crazy freeways of Cairo. Traffic over the island is still congested and the beeping relentless. I begin to worry that Abdul will be outside the hotel. We will have to pull up to the front of the hotel to pick up the luggage. Peter tells me not to worry – he has been speaking to Mina and if Abdul is there he will explain that Mina is his cousin and has been driving us around Cairo for the last couple of days to visit the family. Sorted.

Luggage is picked up, doorman tipped and we say goodbye to crazy Cairo city. We drive out to Heliopolis. Although the traffic is still very heavy, the streets become wider, tree lined and we can definitely sense we are driving into a more affluent area. Peter makes several phone calls to his Aunt Alice and Uncle Michel for directions to their apartment. We drive past St Georges Church where a wedding seems to be taking place. Peter tells me that this is the church where is cousin got married so we must be close to his aunt and uncles home. Eventually we find it. As we get out of Mina’s car both Michel and Alice are standing on the balcony waving to us. We walk down a driveway lined with potted cacti and enter the building at the side. We climb the stairs and are greeted with warm handshakes and four kisses on cheeks. We are invited to take a seat out on the balcony as it is cooler.

Alice makes us tea and again is surprised when I say I don’t take sugar. She asks me if I will have just a little sugar – Peter and I laugh. Michel and Alice are about to go to Austalia to visit their son Maged. He and his family have been in Australia for 5 years where he works in a managerial position in a bank. They have been going to Australia to stay for 6 months of the year for the last few years – now they are retired they can live between Australia and Egypt quite easily. As I look out from the balcony across the tree lined street I can see other families doing the same, drinking tea and relishing in the warm gentle breeze, far less polluted than central Cairo. We take some photos of us together – now having to use my iphone as the battery on my cameras has exhausted itself. Mina is still waiting for us. We say goodbye, wave goodbye to Alice and Michel who are again standing on the balcony.

Off we go to the airport. It’s now nearly 10.00pm and the flight leaves at 11.00pm. It’s a good job that we didn’t make it to Egyptair to get an earlier flight as we’ve really squeezed every minute into these four days. We leave Cairo. As we take off I think about how the city below is just beginning to come alive.

An hour later we land back in Luxor. Again Bob has arranged for one of his drivers to pick us up from the airport and take us back to the hotel. Just as Cairo is swinging into action, Luxor is going to sleep. The streets are empty and all is silent – not even one beeping car.

What a day!  It started at 4.30am – we had already packed for Cairo and now had one hour to get ready before Bob came to pick us up for the airport.  All done – at 5.30 Bob arrives and we make the 15 minute journey to the airport.  We say our goodbyes to Bob who will be leaving Luxor later this day to start his new business venture in Hurghada.  We wish him the very best. 

We check in – everything is on time and we board a rather packed plane to Cairo.  This is my fifth trip to Cairo and in the past have flown on rather spacious planes that usually had many empty seats.  Our original flight had been cancelled and changed to an hour later (which was better) but it seems that the luxury of flying on half empty planes is over.

After a short wait in the lounge we board the plane.  The safety instructionsare relayed in both Arabic and English and the plane takes off.  As the plane increases in altitude we can see the landscape below change immediately from the green irrigated land to the soft undulating sandstone terrain.  Dried up river beds snake along the valley floor and the repeating scene of the desert below feels hypnotic .  We follow the River Nile north towards Cairo.

It’s a nice short flight to Cairo – 1 hour.  We begin to feel a drop in altitude.  As I look out of the window the terrain below begins to change again.  Instead of the instant change from green irrigated land to desert, the view below goes immediately from desert to densely populated metropolis.  Tower blocks poke out through a thick layer of smog.  (always more visible in Cairo in the early morning when the temperature is a little lower).  It’s only once in Cairo that you realize the source of all the smog  – the traffic here is like nothing else on earth.  I remember the first time I came to Cairo on an organized trip – our tour guide told us “We don’t have rush hour in Cairo – we have rush day”.

Abdul is waiting for us as arranged.  It has been 3 and a bit years since we were in Cairo and the same since we saw Abdul.  Peter and I were in Cairo to get married – that’s another story!

As we drove from the airport to downtown Cairo, Abdul asked us if we noticed anything different.  Looking out of the car window at the broad tree-lined freeway everything seemed quite familiar.  As we drive through affluent Heliopolis we pass Baron Empain’s Hindu style Palace - it’s unusual architecture still looks out of place – but also perfectly at home.  http://curious-places.blogspot.com/2011/03/baron-empain-palace-cairo-egypt.html   

I couldn’t think what Abdul was referring to.

“No pictures of Mubarak!” says Peter.  That’s right, Mubarak’s face used to be on hoardings all along the airport road.  I wonder what other changes we will notice during our trip. 

 I can feel how much cooler it is in Cairo than Luxor – by cooler I mean 27 degrees instead of the 40 in Luxor.

We drive through Ramsis, Tahrir, over the Kasr e Nile bridge where the Egyptian revolution first began.  T shirts saying “Free Egypt” “I love Egypt” “25^th January, Tahrir Square” line the roadside railings.  All seems peaceful now.

We arrive at the Sheraton and check in.  It will be 45 minutes before the room is ready so we decide to head straight out to our first appointment of the trip, to the Mamluk Glass Factory next to Qaitbay Mosque.  We were to phone Kamal before we set off which we did.  He wasn’t in the factory so we would pick him up on the way.  Off we set with Abdul.  The traffic in Cairo is notorious.  There is an order to the road system but also what appears to be absolute chaos – cars cutting across each other within centimetres to spare.  It can be quite a terrifying experience for first timers in Cairo.  At first the constant beeping of horns can be interpreted as a ‘telling off’ – much like we’d use car horns at home.  However, the horns are a subsystem – a language between drivers (and pedestrians) that interspersed with various hand gestures is completely understood here.

We pull off the freeway into a short dusty side street along Cairo’s Eastern Cemetery or City of the Dead.  (The cemeteries are yet another story for another day).  Peter phones Kamal and we meet him at the bottom of the street and then proceed onto the factory.

I think the word factory conjures up an up an image of a large industrial unit.  The Mamluk Glass Factory is a small enterprise but none the less a very productive one.  Kamal takes us in.  The walls are lined with shelves full of various glass products – not an inch of space goes unused. 

The factory is no longer than 10 metres and about 3 metres wide.  At the bottom is a furnace and one of the glass blowers at work.  However much I had been relishing the cooler temperatures of Cairo it all went to pot upon entering the factory – the heat from the furnace was incredible.  The worker had just two electric fans to keep the temperature bearable!  We watch with great interest at the skill deployed to produce a glass jar with a water spout with a twist of glass relief around its body.  I‘m invited by the craftsman to have a go at blowing some glass. I’m handed the metal tube that has a blob of molten glass on the end.  As I blow into the tube it is turned for me (it weighs a ton!) and a large glass balloon is produced.  Certainly nothing usable so it is knocked off the end of the tube to be melted back and used again.   By now my face felt like it had melted.  Any benefit of the cooler Cairo climate and Abdul’s air conditioned car was now truly lost!

Kamal invites us to drink tea outside.  Kamal tells us that this is the fifth generation of his family to have this factory.  A picture of his father blowing glass hangs over the factory entrance.  Kamal brings us a selection of books and magazines that have articles about the glass factory – one of only five in Cairo.  As we drink tea and look through the books I read an article that says Kamal is an engineer.  I point out this section of the article to him and he says he works as an engineer in the morning and comes to the factory in the afternoon.  He says it needs his generation to maintain the family tradition or the business and the skills will be lost forever.  All of his family work in the workshop – all also university educated.  The females in the family sort the glass and decorate the finished pieces and the men are involved in all other aspects of the business.  I ask Kamal where the glass comes from.  He tells us it comes from the Zabaleen.  Zabaleen translates directly as Garbage Collectors.  They are a large Christian community living in the foothills of Maqattam in Cairo.  They go out into the city collecting all manner of garbage which they bring back to their homes and sort by type, ready to sell to recycling companies.  Peter and I visited the church of St Samaan on a previous trip to Cairo and drove through the area where the Zabaleen live.  We can talk about this another time as this visit left quite an impact on us.  You can find out more information about this fascinating community through Google and also a very good (award winning) docu/film called Garbage Dreams.  http://www.garbagedreams.com/

A little later we are joined by Kamal’s father Hassan, a fine figure of a man with an imposing presence.  We shake hands and Mr Hassan offers us further drinks.  Someone goes to fetch coca cola. 

Peter talks about the Garagos pottery and how the business has been affected by lack of tourism.  Kamal tells us that since the uprising the government say that the glass factory isn’t in a suitable place for tourists to come.  He says this isn’t the case.  The area is safe and being one if Cairo’s oldest areas should be considered as a key tourist destination.  The Qaitbey Mosque itself is 700 years old.  They feel that the government don’t support local businesses such as this even though they are traditional trades in danger of being lost.

We have another look around at the products.  There is such a good range here and we tell Kamal that we would initially be interested in purchasing some hand blown Christmas decorations.  We don’t discuss price here.  It’s not the time or place.  We ask to purchase one of the glass hand painted Christmas decorations but Kamal will accept no money – we must take it as a gift.  .

We say our goodbyes and Abdul takes us back to the hotel to finish checking in and to freshen up. We are given a room on the 17^th floor of the Sheraton.  We have amazing views over the city and the river Nile.  The island (Gezira) sits in the middle of the Nile.  Directly in front of us Cairo Tower located on Gezira seems like a stones throw away.  I can’t venture very far out onto the balcony before vertigo begins to set in.  But I can’t resist straining my body from the patio doors to look at the amazing view below and across Cairo.  The noise of the beeping is relentless but fades down to background noise after a period of adjustment.

We freshen up and go out to Abdul who is still waiting for us.  He is one of the taxi drivers for the Sheraton and business is bad so we know he will still be available for us.  We drive over onto the island and head over to leafy Zamalek.  This is home to some of the foreign embassy’s and also several private schools.  Zamalek is like a little oasis compared to the rest of the city and the wealth of it’s residents is quite apparent.  Tree lined streets and high walls provide privacy to large colonial style villas, a legacy of the French and British occupations.  http://www.touregypt.net/featurestories/zamalek.htm

We head off first to a great bookshop called Diwan.  It’s a must visit shop when I’m in Cairo and have picked up a good selection of Naguib Mafhouz books and Yousef Chahine films.  We also search for a couple of the books that Kamal showed us earlier as one of them although in Arabic had a feature on the Garagos pottery.  We don’t find the books we want but staff suggest we try the Cairo University bookshop – which we do.  We find at least one of the books on our list so go away happy.  We then go in search of a gallery called Alef.  I came across this gallery on the internet before we left home and it sells a fantastic selection of handcrafted items – clearly to the wealthy residents on Zamalek!  I don’t have the address with me and after driving around for a while we decide to leave it for another day.

We invite Abdul to join us for ice cream at Groppi’s in downtown Cairo.  After Peter and I go married three and a half years ago in Cairo we went to celebrate in Groppi’s before leaving for Alexandria for our honeymoon.  Abdul was with us then.  He had been an absolute star in driving us everywhere we needed to go to get permissions from one ministry, official stamps from another.  Also driving us out to Heliopolis to get permissions from the office of theCoptic Catholic Patriarch. We hadn’t know at the time we needed this permission as we already had permissions from the priest in Garagos and the priest in Luxor – what a palaver that was!  It delayed the marriage (ceremony is the wrong word) for a day but we got there in the end with the help of Abdul.

http://www.alshindagah.com/Shindagah78/eng/Groppi.htm

 Here the three of us were - sitting in Groppi’s three and a half years later.  We all asked the question – where does time go?  We had ice cream and drank tea.  Abdul phoned his wife and son Mohammed and put them on to speak to us.  Again we agreed time goes by so quickly.  Abdul invites to his house for dinner.  It is my birthday today and we had planned to eat out in a nice restaurant downtown but it seemed rude to refuse.  We accepted the invitation an after trying a few more bookshops we set off to Abduls home the other side of Imbaba in Warak.

Imbaba had seen violent clashes between Muslims and Christians in May this year.  http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-middle-east-13325448 Imbaba and Warak are local neighbourhoods (as Peter describes it).  He means areas where tourists don’t usually venture.  I vaguely recollect this journey from last time we came to have dinner with Abdul and his family.  I wouldn’t feel comfortable taking photographs in this kind of area – it seems almost voyeuristic and I’m sure wouldn’t be well received by the local people.

We turn into some tight alleyways, go past small shops that sell items ranging from spare parts for cars to live poultry.  We arrive at Abdul’s flat and are greeted by his wife.  I remember her telling me that she is 'quite high up' in the Ministry of Agriculture.  This is apparent upon entering the flat which is clearly the home of Cairo’s middle classes.  Their sons Mohammed and Mahmoud aren’t at home – they are currently working but Mohammed phones and tells us he hopes to catch up with us before we leave Cairo.  We are invited to the dining table where plates upon plates of food are brought to the table.  A large plate of roasted duck, another of roasted chicken.  A large tourine of soup, a bowl of rice, a plate of bread, a dish of sliced,roasted potatoes in a tomato sauce.

I struggle to eat in the heat.  My appetite decreases when it’s hot and we’ve just been to Groppi’s for ice cream.  I am given a bowl of soup, a duck leg and a chicken breast.  Shortly after my plate is piled high with rice, potatoes and bread and yet more meat.  I have to keep insisting that I can’t eat any more but we make a good attempt at it.

We retire to the living room and fresh mangoes are brought in with tea.  Again discussions are had about the revolution and how the country is in a terrible state. (The conversation is in Arabic and Peter translates). Mahmoud has put in an application for a visa to America. The cost of living has increased and it’s no longer safe to walk the streets. It seems that it is everyone’s dream to leave Egypt and it’s current chaotic state.  After a while we make a move.  It’s 9.00pm and Abdul drives us back to the Sheraton.  As we go through Imbaba we see a fight outside one of the coffee shops and we also clearly see a man wielding a knife.  It’s a bit of a shock to see this first hand but this is now normal as there is no longer any significant police presence on the steets.

We arrive back at the hotel and ask Abdul to wait whilst Peter goes to fetch some small gifts we brought over for them – an England mug for the men and some Belgian chocolates for Mrs Abdul.  Small gifts but with so many family to buy for we have to prioritise.

I stay in the hotel room whilst Peter takes the gifts out to Abdul and also pay him for his driving services for the day.  When Peter comes back he has an odd look on his face.  I ask him what is wrong and he tells me he is a bit taken aback.  I ask him at what and he tells me his is shocked at the amount of money Abdul has charged for driving us for the day.  We know what the going rate is.  Peter has colleagues who arrange drivers for tourists through travel agencies and also friends who own tourists cars.  A days hire for a car in Cairo is about 150le.  We had had Abdul for around 12 hours so counted that as 2 days so expected him to charge around 300le.  He had asked Peter for 600le.  Peter had paid it but he felt that Abdul had taken advantage of us.  We had used Abdul on 2 previous trips to Cairo and money had never been a problem. – his prices had always been fair. After a bit of deliberation we decided to use Abdul the following day but to see what his costs would be.

We sit inside the suite with the balcony door open.  It’s 10.00pm and Cairo hasn’t even begun to come alive yet.  The traffic is still incessant (and the beeping of the cars) and there is a hive of activity along the water front.  Café’s are heaving and steams of people stand along the railings on the bridges that cross the Nile.  Tourist boats sail up and down and the next shift of street sellers pedal their wares.  I read in the in-flight magazine with Egyptair that Cairo is ranked number 3 in the world in the table of 24 hour cities!  I’m exhausted! 

 

 

Today more people come to say hello. Conversations drift towards the uprising.  Many feel despondent and feel the country has no leadership and is becoming more and more lawless.  “Egyptians don’t know what freedom is – they see it as an excuse for bad behaviour and taking the law into their own hands”.

Peter’s mother and sister Margreet are preparing a special meal for us – one of their chickens and a variety of vegetables from the land. Sara and Susanna are a delight and entertain us with the usual antics of two and a half year olds.  

Throughout the day several members of the family come to us to express their concern about us going to Cairo at the weekend.  We had planned our trip to avoid being there on Friday when most protests take place. The week before we left for Luxor protestors had tried to tear down the security wall of the Israeli Embassy, resulting in the Israeli Ambassador leaving the country. We also heard this morning on one of the Egyptian news channels that there had been an attack on the Saudi Arabian Embassy in Cairo. However, we have a carefully planned trip and will travel by taxi instead of the metro.  We have made arrangements for Abdul to pick us up from the airport and be our driver throughout our visit.  Abdul was born and bred in Cairo, is an ex policeman and someone who knows the City like the back of his hand (or as much as anyone can).  We had spoken to Abdul and his son Mohamed before leaving the UK and they told us everything is OK in Cairo - the odd protest but these can be avoided if you have your bearings right. Despite our reassurances, little can be said to put Peter's family's minds at rest - I just hope they don't catch today's news.

We return to the hotel later that evening.  I had intentions to write some more on the blog but was too exhausted.  It will have to wait until tomorrow.