Pyramid scheme.

Cairo, Egypt.

Today was my last full day in Egypt, so I set off to the pyramids.

You all know that they are great, so I’m not going to bother to tell you how great they are, except to say that they are great.

What is less known about the pyramids of Giza is that they sit smack bang in the middle of a Cairo suburb.

There is a metro station there. The romance of visiting the pyramids is kind of lost when you jump on a 7am train, packed with office workers, to get there.

When you do get there the fist thing you notice, except for how huge the things are, is how much damage the revolution in Egypt has done to the local tourism industry.

As I was leaving the site I estimated that 20% of the people there were touts. And they were fierce, you couldn’t turn around with out having a little sphinx or plaster pyramid shoved in you face.

The poor bastards were desperate.

My tour guide wasn’t too worried though; this probably has something to do with the amount of hash he smokes. At one stop of our tour, he rolled a joint the size of my index finger. It couldn’t have been much later than 10 in the morning.

On my way home that afternoon a young guy approached me in the street and asked me if “Tahrir Square was good or bad?” He was talking about the revolution. I told him that I thought it was good, but it had scared off all the tourists.

He wanted to know when the tourists would come back. I told him I had no Idea.

Anyway the pyramids are fantastic, everyone should come and see them.

Yep, they look just like they do on TV. 

Totally amazing.

Tourists pose, holding the sphinx's head.

Tourists; ready for anything.

Funeral for a Pope.

Cairo, Egypt

The Pope of the Coptic Church died the same day I arrived in Cairo. Pope Shenouda III, or “Baba Shenouda” as the locals called him, seems to have been a very respected man. 

“I love him, even though I am a Muslim” said the lady at the front counter of my hotel. She also asked me if I cried. I din't cry, I did get lost on the way home though.

I must have missed the funeral proper. By the time I’d made my way to St. Mark’s Cathedral in Cairo’s Abbasiya district, the coffin had already left. There were still hundreds of mourners, and heaps of security.

On the way to the Church I passed helmeted riot police, soldiers and an APC.

The APC was a slightly worrying sign. I remember seeing one just like it on the news months ago; charging at Coptic protesters.

The mood was calm. I didn’t see any scuffles or problems of any kind. The riot police looked pretty bored for the most part. There were kids selling posters with the Pope's face on it. 

A local dude approached me with a stack of pamphlets and asked me if I’d accepted Jesus into my heart. I told him I had. He was wrapped to hear it.

“Very good, God bless you” he said, stuffing a pamphlet into my hands. It was written in Arabic. Great, I thought, I don’t have to read it.

When I made it into the church, there were people clambering at the alter. They were lining up to wipe tissues and flowers on the chair where Baba Shenouda’s body had been on display. They would then kiss the tissues and hold them to their face.

Outside the church a young dude told me that some believe that these tissues might grant miracles or heal the sick.  

I should have grabbed one. You never know. 

Army dudes.

Two nuns leave the church. 

Police officers. 

The riot squad.

Copts on the top of the gate leading into the Cathedral.

The loss was too much for this woman.

The faithfull scramble to touch the chair.

The main gate was locked on my way out. People were still squeezing in to pay their respects.

Last Stop. Cairo.

Cairo, Egypt

Flying, even a very short distance, with a hangover is horrible. But when the tickets are booked and flight is paid for you just gotta get on the plane.

My last night in Israel was spent in Tel Aviv. It was a big night and it resulted in an equally big hangover.

Anyway, following two short flights and a tedious and nauseous stop over in Jordan, I arrived in Cairo.

The next day was a write-off, I’ve been holidaying pretty hard, so I thought I’d better take a day off.

Today, however, it’s back to holidaying, so I hit the streets.  Fist stop was the Egyptian Museum, no cameras allowed so if you want to see a bunch of amazing relics you’ll have to google them.

Next stop, Tahrir Square then the bazar.  

I had seen a report on Al Jazeera about young revolutionaries painting murals on the walls near the site of the protests and I wanted to check it out for myself. 

Like other parts of this trip, it's been a strange to stand in a place that has had so much recent media. I found myself recognising parts of a city that I've never visited, and until recently, had no real concept of. 

I still managed to get lost on the way back to my hotel. 

Tomorrow, the Pyramids.

Graffiti near the square.

The National Democratic Party building burnt out behind the Egyptian Museum. 

Girls walk past Tahrir Square.

More graffiti goes up near the square.

An old bloke sits by the bazar with his prayer beads.

Cairo's streets at night.