The Travelling Gentleman - Egypt

The Travelling Gentlemen.

In review this month: Egypt.

Egypt. The very name of the place conjures up images of all things Egyptian. It has been an ambition of mine to come here ever since I was paid to do so by the Editor last month. I now have the chance to walk in the footsteps of the Pharaohs, although as I have the choice I will instead walk on the plush carpets of the Cairo Ritz (one does have standards to maintain). Of course when one awakens on his first day in Cairo there is but one place a fellow wishes to go - ‘The Fez ‘n’ Pharaoh Cocktail Lounge’. A glorious bar serving drinks of all description and many others which defy it. While cocooned on a sumptuous chaise longue in the accommodating company of a gaggle of St. Swithuns old girls (I’m a Winchester College old boy myself) I allowed Henson, my manservant, to nip out to those pyramid things and see what all the fuss was about.

It was cool for a summer’s day in Cairo by all accounts (a mere 107 degrees) so I allowed Henson to travel in full morning dress to show those Arab chappies, who seemed to be everywhere for some reason, that the English have standards. Henson took a bally long time returning so I was forced into chaperoning three of the finest (and therefore most vulnerable) St. Swithuns fillies as we retired to their rooms for the night. Why, it’s what any Englishman with a sense of decency, a roguish smile and a handsome expense account would do.

It took Henson the best part of two days to return. On reflection it was rather forgetful of me not to tell him we had full use of a hansom carriage for the duration of our stay. But he is a frightfully stoic chap and he bore up surprisingly well, apart from the radical dehydration weight loss and those marks from a camel that he would rather not dwell upon. Henson went on to describe in detail the last surviving wonder of the world. I was disappointed. For all their build up it seems that the much vaunted pyramids are no more than pointy stacks of bricks. What a let down. I’m glad I didn’t waste any time going to see them.

But what else does Egypt have to offer? A trip into the Sahara perhaps? Well I’m sorry but a large expanse of sand doesn’t excite me. I’ve already seen large expanses of sand by walking on the beach at Weston-Super-Mare when the tide is out, plus you have the added advantage there of being able to pick out your own whelks at the same time.

Some people may choose to explore Cairo itself to get a feel for the way that modern Egyptians live. Well good luck to them. I wasn’t going out there. It looked a ghastly place. After seeing what happened to Henson (and he only went out for a long stroll)

I decided to stay firmly in the hotel. Besides, two more young ladies, Elizabeth and Mary, from St. Swithuns had ventured outdoors and had been hassled by some street vendor into buying some unusual hand-rolled cigars. I feared for their safety so I invited them into the burgeoning entourage in my suite. They seemed strangely hesitant at first, but after a few of the Ritz’s head barman’s ‘special’ cocktails and an elegant smoke of their suitably relaxed.

I had been told that if I visited Egypt then they day of my return would come around far sooner than I wished, and how true those words were. I had planned to stay for a month but my credit limit expired a mere eight days into my journey and GC refused to up the tab. I made my way home on the first ship out of Alexandria. What a shame that the only ship sailing that day was a luxury cruise liner.

A shame too for Henson who I was forced to abandon to be used as collateral to cover the drinks bill. I really hate to think of him being stuck there, but I find that thinking of something else instead is sufficient to take my mind off it. I only hope that GC eventually pay up as I have no intention of doing so.

So the low-down. Should you go to Egypt? No. Well not unless someone pays you to go. And as luck would have it on the cruise ship I met the editor of ‘Victorian Man’ magazine who told me all about their vacancy for a travel correspondent and the generous travel allowances they pay. I’ve also heard that the St. Swithuns outing is an annual event. Same time next year then perhaps.