Cairo, Day 1

We admired the view of the Nile from our hotel balcony while breakfasting on foul, labnah, feta, olives, and heavenly Egyptian pita bread. Both of us have been stymied and overwhelmed by the guidebooks and the reality of being in Egypt, so we decided to start our sight-seeing at the Citadel, since it had been recommended by M after a perusal of Cairo on Google Earth. The Citadel is a massive fortress on a hill overlooking Cairo, over 900 years old, and the nerve center of Cairo for more than 700 years. There are some mosques and a palace or two within the walls, and magnificent if dusty views of the city.

Here's where there should be an interesting photo of me and Jodi at the Citadel, overlooking Cairo, but this computer is slow and wonky as is the internet connection, and suddenly the heat and sun and walking and doing my washing in the sink has left me sleepy. And I have to get up early to meet our private driver to go to the pyramids, the sphinx, all that old stuff... More travel updates and witty observations and compelling photographs tomorrow, inshallah.

Dispatches from the desert

Long time, no travel, makes a Seattle girl very sad. But here I am waking up in sunny Cairo with the Nile flowing by my hotel balcony, a cup of coffee next to me, and a steaming plate of foul with sides of feta, labnah, and olives.

It's kind of surreal, and I'm not really sure how we got here, except about six months ago Jodi and had the following conversation over a beer (well, I was probably drinking wine, because beer makes me make funny faces.)

J: We should take a vacation, the two of us, we've never gone anywhere together.
R: Yeah, good point. That sounds fun. Where do you want to go?
J: I don't. Somewhere neither of us has been before...
R: I've always wanted to go to Morocco. And I can sort speak a bit of Arabic...
J: I've always wanted to go to Egypt.
R: I'd go to Egypt.
J: Ok, should we do it?
R: Yeah, let's do it.

I realize that more detailed and in-depth conversations have taken place regarding what grocery to buy the bacon from, but there you have it. It sounded like a good idea of the time, and it still does, of course. And fast forward six months and three tabbed guide books later, and here we find ourselves.

So anyway, it will be a grand adventure, and I'll be updating here for all you who want to follow along and live vicariously or just want to make sure we haven't been kidnapped by Sudanese bandits. Just kidding. That totally doesn't happen.

We arrived late last night, and somehow sailed through customs and met our Cairo friend Waleed who "whisked" us from the airport to the Cairo Marriott on Zamalek, an island in the Nile. And by "whisked" I mean navigated three to six "lanes" of traffic of closely compacting beeping cars for about an hour. But it was all part of the adventure. So far I am reminded of Riyadh but with more people, more cars, and a bit dirtier. So it's kind of a bizarre sort of homecoming...even bits of Arabic are coming back to me. I'm quizzing Jodi on the uses of "shukran" and "asif" (Thank you and I'm sorry) to give her a bit of a head start.

More photos and updates later today, once we hit the streets of Cairo....


Ma'salaamah,

...on a jet plane...

Leaving London today, back to my little life and reality...to two furry little dogs who need baths, and piles of laundry to be done, and bills to be paid, and a fridge to be filled with grocery shopping. But there are also friends to see and laugh with, pizzas to be eaten, my own big bed to sleep in, and my own car to toodle around in. And soon, in a few weeks, a job that I miss to return to...along with friendly and helpful co-workers, and patients who remind me why I go to work in the first place.

So until the next stamp in my passport, I hope this blog doesn't stay quiet for too long.

West End Girl

Today was lovely although a bit bittersweet, with the knowledge that I'm leaving London tomorrow as a cloud over my head. I walked down Cromwell Road to the Victoria and Albert Museum, or the V & A. I had been thinking of checking out the Natural History Museum, which is right next door, but was a little deterred by the hoards of very small children entering it. Nevertheless, I'm glad I bypassed it for the V & A. I actually broke my usual museum-going convention and spent an entire two hours in it, that's how much I loved it. The museum is affectionately known as "Britain's attic," which is a very fitting nickname. That is, if you happen to keep thousands of priceless treasures in your attic collected from 1500 to today. And if your attic is big enough to store hundreds of pieces of furniture, paintings, costumes, jewelry, glassworks, metalworks, ceramics, and any other oddbits you may have saved. Oh and lots of sculptures and photographs and tiny models of buildings. But you get the point. I toured the British history rooms, arranged chronologically, which gave a fascinating viewpoint into the ever-changing styles and fashions and art over the past 500 years. For a Sunday, it was surprisingly uncrowded, although I guess the hoardes of people were there to visit the current exhibits. But you have to pay for those.

After my time-traveling through British history, I wandered down Cromwell Road to Brompton and popped in Harrods, where I browsed and tried on jewelry that I pretended I could afford. Finally on the way back to the hotel I stopped into a little Indian restaurant for my best meal yet...papadums, onion bahjee, saag paneer...and oh the mixed pickle! To die for. The experience was made complete by the plethora of overly attentive young Indian waiters and the warm washcloth at the end of the meal. Why do I have to leave tomorrow!?

LDN

It's really winter here in London, even my Wisconsin blood isn't comfortable at sidewalk cafes anymore, despite a hat and scarf. While there are a few things London should take note on from Paris, the outside sidewalk heater ranks up there pretty high.

I seemed to have picked a pretty convenient hotel, since the nearest tube stop has three lines running through, making it very easy to get anywhere and I rarely even have to change lines. Today I rode the Circle line to Embankment and walked a few blocks to the National Gallery, at Trafalgar Square (for those of you following along at home in your London A to Z, and yes, you must pronounce it "zed"). I've been to the National Gallery a few other times, although not on my last two trips here, so it was definitely time to go again. Actually, I almost made it last time but I had walked all over the city and by the time I got there I was so darned tired that I simply sat on the steps, took a few shots of Nelson's Column, and left. So today I popped back in to visit some old friends; Jane, the Arnolfinis, Whistlejacket, to name a few. I have some of those prints at home, and do adore them, but they become so starkly disappointing when standing in front of the real thing. I can't explain what it is about certain paintings, but I even become one of those strange bench-sitting, painting-gazing people in front of The Execution of Lady Jane Grey...yes, again with the Tudor history obsession, I know. But I dare you to stand in front of the life-size painting, and not have your breath taken by the shimmer of her silk dress, not see her hands move uncertainly towards the block, not hear the rustle of her dress as she kneels in the hay or the weeping of her ladies in waiting. Then go visit Whistlejacket, the life-size portrait of the racehorse by George Stubbs, and try to figure out if it's fear or arrogance in his liquid brown eyes. And of course go to the Sainsburys wing to visit the Arnolfini marriage portrait, if only because you developed a weird obsession with it during a college art class. And along the way of this weird little tour of my favorite paintings, you may catch sight of some of your favorites, like Van Gogh's sunflowers, or some of Monet's Waterlilies, or Renoir's Umbrellas. Be sure to notice the painting of Lake Keitele, just looking at it will make you feel the chilly morning air.

Anyway, enough waxing artistic for you. After my visit at the National Gallery (yes, still only one hour long...) I had lunch at a wonderful Italian restaurant on the Strand (mussels! red wine!) and enjoyed a black taxi ride home through Kensington. I admit, I had been thinking of going to see Mary Poppins in Leicester Square this afternoon, but did you see how long the queue was for tickets at the TKTS booth?! And did you notice that it had just started icily raining?!

London Rain

Brrr...yesterday was clear and cold in London, but no rain. But I couldn't think of a song called "London is Chilly," so apologies for the misleading post title.

I went to the Courtauld Institute and Galleries yesterday, and I highly recommend it on my list of Things You Must do While in London. Oh, you haven't seen that list yet? Hmm. Perhaps I'll post a summary at the end of this trip. Especially recommended for Elly, because there was an ice-skating rink AND Van Gogh paintings! And for Faye as well, because there were Picassos too. Oh, and some Rubens, for Steph. The Courtauld is quite a gem of a museum, because it's just the right size. And we all know that I love little museums, for my limited arty-attention span and because I can actually see the whole thing and not get stressed out that I might have missed something really important. The galleries are part of the art institute, so each painting has a very helpful explanation with it, so touring it is like a mini art class. Except maybe even better, because I didn't leave halfway through it to go eat Indian food on the lawn with Stephanie. Ah...college. But I digress. Back to the descriptions of the paintings...for example, next to a dreamlike Rousseau painting of a tollgate, the card explained that Rousseau worked as a tollkeeper for many years. Ah! But of course. It's the little things like that. I like to know what I'm looking at and why.

After the museum I walked up the Strand to Covent Garden market, browsed there a bit, was serenaded by some opera singers, then wandered about Leicester Square and all it's touristy theatrey insanity. I popped into my favorite sandwich shop, Pret a Manger, grabbed some lunch, and headed back to the hotel for a nap. I don't know why, but the English sandwiches are the best ever.

Note the Christmas decorations in Covent Garden. Also note the absence of inflatable Santas or light-up deer. Nearly tasteful enough to put me in the Christmas spirit.

It's cold again today but clear and dry, so I'm deciding between the National Gallery and the V & A museums, or catching a theatre matinee....

Un-Thanksgiving

I had the best Thanksgiving EVER! There weren't any paper turkeys, pilgrim salt and pepper shakers, or schmaltzy Hallmark specials on TV, so it was awesome. Sure, there wasn't a turkey feast or a huge gathering of friends and family, but those things are completely replicable at any time of the year, and are usually better on a non-holiday anyway.

Yesterday was another sunny clear day here in London, so I headed out in the morning to visit the Tower Bridge. It happens to be in most guide books on the "Top Ten" lists of places to visit, and while that distinction usually makes me think twice before visiting something just because I'm "supposed" to, I decided that if I'm going to become a Londonista, I must see it all. The view of the city over the Thames was worth it.


Later in the evening I took advantage of the British Museum's late Thursday opening times, and took the tube up to Bloomsbury. I love late openings at museums. I know I've mentioned this before...but they're quieter, no school or tour groups, and there's a different atmosphere altogether. I only had a few hours there, and some galleries were closed after 6pm, so I went through all the Egyptian halls. I saw some mummies, artifacts from ancient Egyptian life, and of course the Rosetta stone. The Egyptian sculpture rooms were breathtaking. The scale of the sculptures, coupled with the setting of immense rooms and soaring ceilings, makes an impression. I think that what I love about museums is often simply the reverence that the items are displayed with, the visual and sometimes visceral reminder that you are very small, and the world is very big, and more than you can comprehend has happened before you came along and even more will happen after you. It's humbling but oddly comforting.


Next to the Egyptian rooms are the Assyrian rooms, which were nearly empty, and for some reason, almost chilly. The friezes and sculptures were beautiful and moving. It was also almost poignant and sad, as I realized that the site of this ancient culture is now the site of an endless bloody war.

So now it's morning, and the sky is clear and the sun is out, and I must go in search of a "full English" in order to properly start my day. Hope you all had a happy Turkey Day!