The context, summary and links for this short break are contained in the placeholder – click here or below:
Here is my log for the journey and arrival day:
Rose at a civilised hour on Thursday – Ged [i.e. me] feeling a little worse for wear ahead of the journey.
Got through check-in and security at Heathrow terminal three in record time – our flight to Cairo is said to be half full and that middle of the day slot is quiet generally.
In the absence of business class, we sought a classy place to get some refreshment – especially as Egypt Air’s hospitality’s reputation is far from good.
We found Oriel & were nicely looked after there for a couple of hours. Daisy [Janie] had a couple of “glasses of” and a Caesar salad. Ged, feeling a bit ropey still, stuck with water, Diet Coke and eventually some smoked salmon and wine.
Event free flight – We did well to avoid the dreadful smelling food – apart from “Abu Fsai” in front of us and the big unit to our side.
Now’s the time to add some Egyptian music to enhance your reading experience – the great Hossam Ramzy:
We arrived on time, met by Ahmed who whizzed us through the Visa, immigration, baggage collection and customs processes.
Delighted to learn that we’ve been upgraded to a presidential suite on arrival – the King Gustav VI Adolf Suite.
After showering and sorting, took a late dinner of lentil soup followed by chicken kebab (Daisy) and lamb kofte (Ged) with local wine. Daisy like Zaman, Ged liked Jardin Du Nil. Read after trying Zaman first time round.
It was clear after just a few hours in Cairo that the place is “baksheesh central”, so Ged thought he should change some money after dinner at the Mena House’s 24 hours a day bank.
Strangely, the bank seem to be staffed solely by a security guard with very little English. He tried to explain that they had little English money until Ged emphasised with hand and cash waving that we sought small Egyptian money, not small English money.
At a painfully slow pace, our boy counted out our money, until, seemingly complete having counted it twice, he handed it downwards. A tip-toed lean across the counter revealed the actual cashier, who had been sleeping on the floor.
He rose slowly, bleary eyed. He asked in surly tones if we were absolutely sure we wanted all that small money and then counted it all again.
A little offering to the guard and cashier seem to cheer them both up.