| Submitted by: Evelyn C. Leeper , United States |
| Submission Date: 04 February 2005 |
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At one point Tom gave a legless beggar twenty pounds and on the way back the beggar insisted on kissing both him and Mark, twice on the cheeks. There is no welfare here; people in need depend on the alms-giving all good Muslims are supposed to do. Tom seems to exemplify the saying about casting one's bread upon the waters--he appears to be both very generous and very rich.
After a terrific hour--Mark and I alone would not have been as adventuresome--we returned to the pre-appointed corner. The driver was there, but no taxi. The streets had been closed off because of the Prophet's Birthday (Mullah Denebi or something like that) and would we mind walking a block to the taxi? Of course not, except the block was closer to a mile and uphill. But even this worked out because we got to see the parade and to teach the driver to sing 'Happy Birthday to You' for Mohammed. The ride back was a real kamikaze ride, but great fun as we kept joking with the driver about his driving.
We arrived back in time to pack (we seem to do a lot of that) and dress for our gala farewell party. Tom talked about going into town for the festival but with that traffic we probably couldn't make it back in time for the plane.
At the cocktail party, I tried a gin and tonic, which was the drink of the trip. I didn't like it. Jane handed out the group photos and cartouche keychains with our names on them, as well as delivering the cartouches we had ordered. Mark's name was different on the two; I wonder which is correct.
Dinner was at the King Tut Room. I had--can you guess?--lamb cutlets; Mark had the mixed grill. For desert I had flan and Mark had pomegranate seeds--very good. I also had a couple of glasses of Haenckel Trocken (sp?) which Tom ordered on Jean's recommendation. It was very good and, after saying goodbye to everyone and swapping addresses and hugs, I was able to go to sleep for about three hours.
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This morning we flew back to Cairo. It shouldn't surprise you that the flight was late. On the way to the hotel, I told Mark and Tom what we should have done was tell the boat's captain the first day that we didn't like the food and ask if we could eat with the crew. They liked the idea but Jane said she would have died.
We had lunch with Tom and ordered all the Egyptian food on the menu we could find. Mizzeh is a Middle Eastern version of the pu-pu platter (which is a Chinese smorgasbord) and has an assortment of appetizers: hummous, baba ganough, korbeba, and so on. Then we decided to go back to the Khan-al-Kalili Bazaar. Basically this was us tagging along with Tom--he arranged for the taxi and all. For a taxi, you tell them how many hours you want them for, end-to-end, then negotiate a price and pay them afterwards. If you pay them when you get out to do shopping or whatever, they have no incentive to wait.
We walked around for about an hour. We started in the tourist section and Tom bought a couple of things. It was fun watching him bargain though he may be something of an easy mark because he doesn't press them very hard. For one shop we ended up going up a narrow flight of stairs to a small brass shop on the second floor. There are a lot of these 'second-story jobs' that not many tourists know about or see.
Gradually we found ourselves out of the tourist section and into the real market area where there were piles of onions, stands selling food, a stand where people could burn incense, people fixing engines, etc. It was fascinating to watch and because I was a woman no one really bothered me. Everyone said hello to Tom and Mark, though, stroking their chins because of the matching beards. At one point Tom gave a legless beggar twenty pounds and on the way back the beggar insisted on kissing both him and Mark, twice on the cheeks. There is no welfare here; people in need depend on the alms-giving all good Muslims are supposed to do. Tom seems to exemplify the saying about casting one's bread upon the waters--he appears to be both very generous and very rich.
After a terrific hour--Mark and I alone would not have been as adventuresome--we returned to the pre-appointed corner. The driver was there, but no taxi. The streets had been closed off because of the Prophet's Birthday (Mullah Denebi or something like that) and would we mind walking a block to the taxi? Of course not, except the block was closer to a mile and uphill. But even this worked out because we got to see the parade and to teach the driver to sing 'Happy Birthday to You' for Mohammed. The ride back was a real kamikaze ride, but great fun as we kept joking with the driver about his driving.
We arrived back in time to pack (we seem to do a lot of that) and dress for our gala farewell party. Tom talked about going into town for the festival but with that traffic we probably couldn't make it back in time for the plane.
At the cocktail party, I tried a gin and tonic, which was the drink of the trip. I didn't like it. Jane handed out the group photos and cartouche keychains with our names on them, as well as delivering the cartouches we had ordered. Mark's name was different on the two; I wonder which is correct.
Dinner was at the King Tut Room. I had--can you guess?--lamb cutlets; Mark had the mixed grill. For desert I had flan and Mark had pomegranate seeds--very good. I also had a couple of glasses of Haenckel Trocken (sp?) which Tom ordered on Jean's recommendation. It was very good and, after saying goodbye to everyone and swapping addresses and hugs, I was able to go to sleep for about three hours.
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