The Great Pyramid of Giza is the setting of Pyramid of Secrets. The entire Giza Pyramid Plateau, as well as the city of Cairo, also make an appearance in Awakening, as well as my new series, The Time Travel Journals of Sahara Aldridge (coming 2021).
Follow my travels and research through the scenes of these novels.
If you haven’t read these novels yet, feel free to enjoy my travel journal—there are no spoilers here!
First Glimpse
We’ve been in Luxor for a couple of days, and after my research concludes there, Ron and I fly north to the amazing city of Cairo, with a population of over 15 million people. On the way in from the Cairo airport we see the pyramids for the first time. The Sound and Light show is going on, so the Great Pyramid is lit up. Awesome! Today is my birthday, and I can’t think of a better birthday present than to see the pyramids for the first time. I am so excited to explore there tomorrow. One thing that has surprised us: Whenever you see pictures of the pyramids, they are taken from an angle that catches the Western Desert in the background. You never see how close the city has crept to the pyramids. As we were driving through what felt like a bad part of the city of Giza, I looked down one crowded street, and there at the end of it was a pyramid, where it seemed like the next traffic light should be!
Amir checks us into our hotel, and only a few minutes after settling into our room, he calls from the front desk, simply to wish me a happy birthday. Wow. Later in the evening when I approach the concierge desk to ask a question, another of the hotel staff wishes me a happy birthday. I feel like a celebrity! We go to the business center and check email, and I find more than a dozen birthday greetings from friends and family.
Off to the Pyramids!
We take a cab through the crazy streets of Giza to the pyramid plateau. We want to be left off at the entrance, but the driver’s got another idea. He stops to let a guy jump in, after telling us that it is 15 km to walk around the area. The man who jumps in tells us it’s 20 km but he’ll drive us around for a good price. We keep saying we want to walk. This goes on for several minutes as we drive, then the guy gives up, jumps out of the cab and the driver brings us back to the place where he got in.
The Pyramids At Last…
We try to make our way toward the pyramids but get stopped again by someone who claims to be tourist helper not a guide, but he also wants to drive us around. This one tells us that where we’re headed to buy a ticket is only for the Sphinx, and it is a long walk to the ticket area for the pyramids and Sphinx together. Sounds fishy. We keep walking, he follows. Finally he gives up. We get to the ticket booth and find that it is for the whole area. By ticket booth, I mean a little stone building with one tiny window and one tiny woman. Nothing like the grandeur waiting beside her. My first impression of the pyramids by day – they are bigger than I expected. I’ve waited so long to be here, and tried not to get my expectations too high. It worked. I’m awed.
Taking It All In
The place is crazy with tourists and school groups. People everywhere are trying to sell us memory cards and lithium batteries for our camera, a little girl with postcards taps my leg, but her eyes are distant, barely registering on me. While I sit and type these first impressions, the call to prayer again rings out over the area. It is Friday, their holy day. An old man gives Ron two blue pieces of something that look like bazooka gum. We have no idea what it is. He tells Ron to put them in his pocket – one for me and one for him. Eventually we figure out that they represent scarab beetles for good luck. Ron gives them back, even though the man insists he doesn’t want money for them, since we know that this is not true.
Valley Temple
We head first to the Valley Temple of Khafre, at the base of the second pyramid built here, all pink Aswan granite and white limestone floors.
Causeway to the Pyramids
A steep ramp up out of temple becomes the causeway to the pyramid. I guess that it’s a five to ten minute walk from the Valley Temple up the causeway to the pyramid, the route Khafre’s sarcophagus took to be buried.
The Sphinx
Along the causeway is the best place to stand and marvel at the Sphinx. I am amazed at the thought that the sphinx has been at least twice buried and cleared. How could anyone lose something so immense and wonderful? Doesn’t it’s mere existence insist that SOMEONE be responsible to keep it up? But things fall into disrepair no matter how wonderful they are.
The Great Pyramid
After the sphinx the Great Pyramid. We head up past it and around. I am totally knocked out by its size. I had told myself not to expect much, not wanting to be disappointed. Apparently it worked, because I’m wowed. In this picture, you can see a small black shape in the lower corner of the pyramid. It’s actually a man, bending over. It gives you some perspective on the size.
Entrance
We walk to the east side, all in shade now and climb to the entrance. Tickets don’t go on sale until 1:00 and it’s only about 12:30, so we are just checking it out. We take a few photos and climb back down. In spite of my lifelong issue with claustrophobia, I am totally excited to go in, I definitely convinced myself that I can do this. What’s the worst that can happen, I ask myself? I can freak out, have a panic attack. So what? I’ll live. It’s not a death-defying feat. I think back over the rollercoasters I’ve ridden and the horror movies I’ve watched. Being scared silly isn’t such a bad thing. It’s worth it. Once in a lifetime. I can do this. We have some time to kill, since we’ve gotten here early thinking there might be a long line. There’s no one, assuming that the tiny little hut with bars on a window is truly the ticket booth for one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World.
Queen’s Pyramid
We realize that one of the queen’s pyramids is open for us to go inside. It seems like it would be a good idea for me to try it out as a sort of trial run. We head to the entrance, a small opening in the crumbling pyramid which is dwarfed by the Great one beside it. The entrance shaft slants down steeply. The ramp is covered by wooden planks with metal bars spaced about 18 inches apart to serve as a sort of step as you descend. I start down. I get about four steps down, maybe five feet, and panic. I don’t know how far it goes down.
I don’t know how long it will take, all I know is that people are coming in after me and I’m trapped in a very small space with what feels like half the air I require to fill my lungs. Get me out now! Breathing apologies, I climb past a few people, escape into the light and take a deep breath. Then I start to cry. I’m so angry with myself, that something that’s only in my head could keep me from going inside the Great Pyramid, something I badly want to do. But if I can’t even make it down into this small pyramid… I know I only have a few minutes to decide. The ticket booth opens in three minutes and only has a certain number of tickets they will give out today. I am angry and frustrated.
Asking Questions, Taking Pictures at the Pyramids
But the crowds seem light, so maybe I have a little time. We go over to three tourist police to see if they can give us information about the inside. These three prove to be more interested in being charming and taking pictures, so they can get some money out of us, but they are a bit helpful. They assure me that I am a small woman and won’t have any trouble inside the pyramid. They tell us it takes about 20 minutes to get up inside and back. I’m still debating. Twenty minutes of horrible freaking out could be pretty terrible.
Queen’s Pyramid – Take 2
Ron suggests we try the queen’s pyramid again. He’s heard someone say that looking at your feet helps. I also think if he goes ahead of me, it will help. We get over there, and I hear the first American since we arrived speaking to someone outside the tomb! Glory! I pounce, asking him all kinds of questions. He thinks I’ll do fine, but he says he’ll stay up top in case I need someone to come in and get me. I can’t see how this would be needed, but somehow the thought gives me comfort. He tells me to go down backwards. Down we go. Backwards, like descending a ladder, which helps because my face is toward the open air. Ron first. Me looking at my feet. Turns out it is 45 meters down, then we step down into the burial chamber, which is large enough that I am quite comfortable. I shout up a “no problem” and a thanks to the American at the top. I made it the whole way down without a touch of panic! We stay a couple of minutes, then I climb back up jubilantly. I did it! I can do the other, I’m sure!
We’re Ready!
We head straight to the ticket booth, purchase two tickets for the Great Pyramid, and we’re off! We take a few shots on the pyramid, and also of the city beneath us. All across the plateau, the calls to prayer regularly drift up from the city.
Going In!
We climb to the tourist entrance (which is actually a spot the Arabs hacked into a millennia ago), and head in.
Ascending Corridor
We walk a few dozen feet through gouged rock, and then encounter the shaft of the Ascending Corridor. Here we go. Ron goes first, so he can warn me of any changes. I have to bend at the waist to climb it, and it is not too much wider than my body. I watch my feet. Count my steps to distract myself. One hundred steps up there is a small landing, then another one hundred steps, even steeper. But after that first one hundred steps the Grand Gallery begins, with the lofty corbelled ceiling. It is narrower than I pictured, about four feet wide here too, but also much higher than I imagined, at least forty feet. This second set of steps is physically hard because of the steepness, but not hard on my breathing because the ceiling is so high. I’m doing okay! We crouch for a few feet to pass through a doorway, then it opens up into the King’s burial chamber.
Inside!
Sweating and panting, we lean against sarcophagus to catch our breath. And then I start to cry. I pull out my Neo (the word processor I take everywhere), sit down with my back against Khufu’s sarcophagus, and type the following: I did it! Right now, as I type this, I am sitting on the floor of the burial chamber, with my back against the 4500 year old granite sarcophagus of Pharaoh Khufu. I cried like a baby when we got here, my sobs echoing in the vaulted chamber. Did Khufu’s queens cry for him in this chamber? Did the priest’s chants echo in the same way? The floor and walls are as smooth as any modern builder could create. Huge rectangular slabs that seem impossible to have been brought to this height and placed with such precision. There are no tour guides, no security here. Just Ron and me, and a few tourists who come and go.
The Burial Chamber
The few tourists with us get quiet for a moment as they pause to have their picture taken, and I feel the silence for a moment, and sense the enormous amount of rock bearing down on me. How these people ever figured out they could build a chamber in the center of a mountain of rock without it collapsing is amazing. I know we have to leave. We’ve been here 15 minutes already and Ron’s probably bored to death. I’ve typed all I need to, and there’s nothing else to do here. But I find myself longing to prolong this truly once-in-a-lifetime experience. Hemiunu was here. Khufu was here. Dead and alive. One more moment. We are alone in here now. The smells – musty, dry and hot. The sound – echoing of work outside. Voices keep going for a long time. Conversation is hard to distinguish because of the echoes. Ron yells and scares me. His voice goes on and on. I wonder how many people have sat here and typed? Probably not many!
I Did It!
And then, reluctantly, we climb down and out. (can you spot me in this picture?)
Mastaba Tombs
Back on the plateau, we begin to explore the mastaba tombs alongside the pyramid, where I know Hemiunu’s tomb is located. I’m not overly hopeful about finding it. This is not America, and there are no bronze plaques everywhere, explaining the sites you’re seeing.
Saqqara in the Distance
From up here on the mastaba tombs, I realize for the first time that Hemi and Khufu could see the pyramids their fathers built in far-off Saqqara from here.
Hemiunu’s Tomb
We are “stalked” by an Egyptian man who offers several times to unlock a tomb for us to see inside. Well aware that this will cost us, we decline. Until… he makes the offer again, this time saying, “would you like to see the tomb of the engineer?” Hemiunu! I try to appear nonchalant, but am thrilled that I’ll get to see the inside of the tomb of the main character of Pyramid of Secrets.
Hemi and Me!
This is most likely a statue of Hemiunu, the architect of the pyramids, and main character in Pyramid of Secrets.
Inside Hemi’s Tomb
It turns out to be a complex of family tombs, so we are able to see more than just Hemi’s tomb. Very cool!!
Mortuary Temple Base
Back outside, we find the basalt base of the Khufu’s mortuary temple.
The Classic Pyramids Shot
We succumb to the requisite camel ride across the desert. The drivers take us farther and longer than we want, practically holding us hostage so they can get a bigger fee. We refuse to pay them more than agreed upon. But the ride is fun, and gives us some great shots of the pyramid from a distance.
Fun Photos with the Pyramids
The camel driver proves to be just as adept at taking photos as everyone else we encounter, and does a little impromptu photo shoot with the two of us.
The Old and the New
Though we would like to stay longer, and haven’t had a chance to see the solar boat museum, the pyramid plateau is closing, and it is time to leave. We walk out of the pyramid complex, cross the street, and head into KFC for some dinner. It’s surreal, the juxtaposition of old and new here. People are talking at us the entire way across the street: Taxi? Postcards? Bookmarks? Camel ride? Money for nothing? Even as we eat our dinner, children wave to us through the glass and make motions of hand-to-mouth as though they are starving and desperately need our money in order to eat. It’s hard. I feel compassion, but by now it is tinged with a healthy dose of cynicism, especially when an older man comes into the KFC and starts making a deal with the owner to allow “his kids” to beg on the street in front of the restaurant. Shades of Oliver Twist.
Chatting With the Locals
We want to see the Sound and Light Show, which doesn’t begin until after dark, so we walk the streets a bit and find a little café. Ron chats up the boy at the counter, Gazaly, who speaks almost no English, as I type notes from the day. (Just before Ron snapped this photo, Gazaly slipped his hand across to rest on my thigh. LOL!)
Sound and Light Show
The Sound and Light Show is cheesy and fun, but we are glad to return to the hotel after another long day.
Into Cairo
Day 4. This morning after breakfast we get the hotel’s shuttle bus to downtown Cairo. It takes a little asking around but we find our way to the Egyptian Museum. We have to walk across several narrow streets, which feels death-defying. We are almost there when we are stopped by a nicely dressed man who wants to help us. He tells us that he works for the museum and used to live in NYC. Later we doubt that any of this is true. He tells us that we can’t get tickets into the museum right now because they are closed for prayers. Another 15 minutes. While we are waiting we should feel free to do some shopping here. This is where the locals shop, not like the bazaar (where we are later headed) where they take tourists’ money. The prospect of crossing the crazy-busy street to get there is more than enough to deter us. Our friend will help us across, though. He takes my hand, and in a stop-and-start dash across eight lanes of traffic where there should be six, we play a game much like the old Frogger video game, complete with the constant honking of cars. I truly don’t think we’ll make it. But we do, and our friend kindly directs us into a ‘government’ shop where they will treat us fairly, he assures us. Later we are certain he gets some kind of kickback here. But the papyrus is nice, and they have something I am looking for (the goddess Ma’at, who figures prominently in Pyramid of Secrets), so we make a purchase. We also get a quick demonstration on papyrus making, so we can chalk the whole thing up to research. Fortunately the shop owner’s helper is there to take us back across the street.
Cairo Museum
Papyrus roll in hand, we reach the Cairo Museum. I really cannot begin to describe this place effectively. I have never seen a museum with such a display of riches. It is packed from wall to wall, floor to ceiling with statues, figurines, sarcophagi, tools, implements, jewelry, fragments of tombs and doors and lintels, beds and chairs, vases and pottery. It goes on and on and on. Two and half hours later I am so exhausted from trying to absorb it all that I think I may cry again. The highlight was seeing the contents from King Tutankhamun’s tomb, of course, including his gorgeous gold coffins and death mask, but I think I was equally impressed by simply the staggering amount of things this culture left behind for us to find and study and wonder about. I take as many audio notes as I can, and we stumble back into the light, eyes blurry.
Hussein Mosque square
We wait only a few minutes until we find Michael entering the courtyard to meet us. He is an American living here with his family, and we have mutual friends in the States who have arranged this meeting. We make quick introductions, then grab a taxi to the Khan el Khalili market. It is so enjoyable to hear Michael converse in Arabic with the driver, and to hear the VERY cheap price he pays, compared to what we ignorant tourists have been paying. During lunch with Michael in a street café along a square, a cat runs in, jumps up, and steals a huge chicken breast from the counter just as I’m finishing my chicken shawarma. Ick! My Coke costs more than the sandwich but is worth it. (Side note – In February of 2009 we were saddened to hear that a bomb was detonated in this very square, just feet from where we ate lunch, killing one tourist and injuring many other people. Another reminder that the world is different here.)
Khan el Khalili Bazaar
We head into the market, and into total overload again. The alley is about four feet wide, shops spilling into the alley. Constant talk is aimed at us. More compliments for me. Today it will prove to be my eyes that get the most attention, with four or five men telling me how beautiful they are. From the first day we got here, I have been entranced by the eyes of the Arabic people, so deep and dark. It occurs to me that perhaps I am a bit exotic to them. Funny thought. “How can I take your money today?” “What do you want to spend your money on today?” They have funny lines. We spend the next two hours haggling with merchants. After watching Michael for a couple purchases, we try it ourselves, and after a while, we get quite good at it. We are willing to walk away, and we do. It’s not that hard, when there seem to be a thousand shops selling the same things. In all the times I say no, hand back the purchase and walk away without it, I am never allowed to truly leave. They always admit defeat and give me my price. I start to get a little intoxicated with the power of it. You can see the respect in their eyes when you get the final word. They seem surprised by the strong Americans. I can’t take the credit. Michael has shown us the best way.
The Metro
Time flies, and we need to catch the Metro (subway) to Michael’s house. But first a taxi. We hop in, but there seems to be no arguing over price. Later Michael tells us that when we got in, he explained to the driver that he was a local, he knows the local prices, and he has guests with him, so don’t try to take more than what it really costs. The driver laughs and agrees. I wish I knew Arabic! The Metro is crowded like a NYC subway. We reach the station, take a quick taxi ride to his house in an apartment building. We spend the evening with his lovely family, eat a delicious dinner, and have some good conversation. Also, some time well spent with their 12 year old daughter who is an aspiring novelist, also working on a novel about Ancient Egypt. It is great fun encouraging her, and before the night is over we exchange email addresses and promise to keep in touch. It is 11:00 PM, and we do not yet realize that the night is not nearly over for us.
To Catch a Bus…
A taxi ride back to the metro station, then the subway for nine stops, then a transfer to a different subway for another five stops, then we come out of the subway to try to catch a bus. We say “catch a bus” in America, when we really mean “stand in one established place, usually a shelter, until a bus stops for me.” In Egypt the catching of the bus is a bit more literal. Firstly, you stand anywhere along the highway, and for the bus to notice you, you must stand far enough out in the road for the bus to also run you over. A catch-22. The buses are actually more like 12-passenger vans, which careen all over the place, whizzing past about every thirty seconds, with their doors open. Nothing on the bus identifies where it is going. You simply yell your destination into the bus, and they say yes or no. This would have been quite impossible if I hadn’t asked a woman about my age along the road where we could get a bus to our town. She directed us to stay with her and her mother. Bus after bus passes us by, with her yelling “October?” into each one. (The name of the town where our hotel is located is named 6th October, to commemorate victory in the Ramadan War). One bus after another says no. Finally someone tells her that we should take another bus to somewhere we can’t understand. She tells us to stay with her. We get on the bus and try to pay, but she smiles and shakes her head no, and says “you are our guest.” She is lovely. Her name is Lamya. We are so grateful.
Crazy Trip
The bus travels for probably twenty minutes through some of the poorest streets I’ve ever been in. Lamya and her mother remain on the bus past their stop, just to help us. We’re overwhelmed by this kindness. When we finally get to the place where we can catch the next bus, they get off with us, help us cross several insanely busy streets, and spend another ten minutes trying to find us a bus to 6th October. At last, one comes along. With many shukrans for Lamya, we cram ourselves (literally) into the bus.
Ten minutes later when we are still bumping along, the extent of our situation hits me. I am the only woman in a 12 passenger van with about 15 Egyptian men and Ron. I am in a poverty-ridden section of a foreign, Muslim city at 1:30 AM and I have no idea where I am. And I have blonde hair. Strangely, I’m not the least bit frightened. It just runs through my head that I’m probably crazy. We start to recognize our surroundings and know we’re heading in the right direction.
When our hotel comes into view, we start calling out “Hilton” and the driver slams the brakes in time for us to tumble out at the foot of the hotel parking lot. We made it! I say to Ron that I think we can do anything now. There is a quite a sense of empowerment at having accomplished this, although I know we owe much to Lamya and her patient mother. Still, we knew enough to ask the right questions and attach ourselves to the right person, so that counts for something, I think. It is 2:30 now as I finish chronicling the day. Our plan was to rise early and head two hours north to Alexandria. That plan doesn’t look as attractive at the moment. I think I will open the curtains and let the sun wake me when it will. Alexandria will still be there.
Alexandria
Day 5. We spend the day in Alexandria, on the north coast of Egypt, where the Lighthouse of Alexandria stood as one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, researching for the third Seven Wonders novel, Guardian of the Flame. Be sure to check out that travel journal page!
Back to the bazaar
When we get back to Cairo at about 10 PM, we decide to revisit the Khan el Khalili market tonight, rather than come back tomorrow. The place is beautiful at night, but it’s closing down soon. We hurry to find a few more things to purchase, haggle a bit, try to avoid the commission-seeking street people, and then find a taxi to take us all the way back to our hotel, about 45 minutes away. Another late night, but much accomplished today. We gratefully sink into bed, knowing that tomorrow we won’t even be leaving the hotel. Our last day will be devoted to rest and relaxation around the hotel pool and spa.
What a Trip!
It’s been more of an adventure than I expected, trying to navigate our way through this foreign country, and its customs, money and culture. By the end we have become experts at ignoring the badgering tourist trade, at getting the best price for the things we need, and we have even begun to trust the cab drivers as they careen through the streets clogged with cars driving across lanes. But more than an adventure, it’s been a widening of horizons as well, feeling what it is like to be a minority, touching some of the oldest structures on the face of the earth, and discovering yet another beautiful place in the world, with people who at the core, are people just like us.
