For our second day in Cairo, I figured that Haitham and I should head east toward the old city’s Citadel, a massive building with jagged spires looming over the poor concrete buildings on the edges of the city with the desert hill’s farther east and beyond. Haitham was willing to spend the “extra” money for the taxi, and after he successfully convinced the driver that he was an Egyptian and should be charged thusly, we were able to travel the few kilometers within a few minutes, even in the horrendous morning traffic. When we arrived…something about the Citadel seemed awfully familiar!

Haitham visits Istanb----wait a minute!

Haitham visits Istanb----wait a minute!

We trudged up the far side of the mountain and through the tourist and student queues. Like the pyramids, the place was packed with students on school trips. I couldn’t help but being pleased by this, although the children’s incessant “what’s your name mister?” was beginning to wear on me after literally the two hundredth time, I was happy to see that the schools were paying attention to Egyptian’s knowledge of their country’s history.

I reminded Haitham that Egypt is the primary subject for Western children when they’re learning about ancient cultures and the Middle East, and that every kid has always dreamed of seeing the pyramids. “It’s the same for us,” Haitham chuckled dryly. “Egypt’s film and television industries are the largest in the Arab world; they control our media and they never forget to let us know what the greatest country is and who’s in charge.” I recalled a friend of mine in the USA had taken a class on Egyptian Arabic, and mentioned that to Haitham. “Well, thanks to television and music, anyone who speaks Arabic with the Egyptian dialect can be understood anywhere in the Middle East.” I wish the same could be said for my well-practiced Jordanian accent!

Entering a Turkish-style mosque always makes me think they've somehow acquired hundreds of fairies to light the building

Entering a Turkish-style mosque always makes me think they've somehow acquired hundreds of fairies to light the building

The centerpiece and the spires of the Citadel are from the Mosque of Mohammad Ali, which is covered in Turkish domes and icicle minarets on the outside, and filled with the familiar low-hanging globe light fixtures on the inside. Even Haitham, jaded from his experiences in the supposedly fabulous mosques of Saudi Arabia from his pilgrimage, was impressed with the grandeur of the place. Although the once-gleaming lamp holders had faded and the carpet was threadbare in places from thousands of tourists and worshippers, the mosque retained its dignity.

It's all about the colors, patterns, and geometric symplicity - it's no wonder that Arabs made mathmatics beautiful!

It's all about the colors, patterns, and geometric symplicity - it's no wonder that Arabs made mathmatics beautiful!

Haitham was excited to see the “Police Museum” housed inside the same complex, which held dusty antiques from some of Egypt’s most famous assassinations, their attempts, drug busts, and serial killers. The same swarms of children seemed to be equally enthralled, either by me or by the exhibits, and Haitham had his camera phone out and was snapping low-quality shots in all directions. Two women named Reyya and Sikeena apparently developed such sensationalized infamy through their murders of well-to-do young girls that Egypt made them into a TV show back in the 50s or 60s. Kind of the “Arsenic and Old Lace” for the Arab World, I suppose.

We stopped briefly at the Mosque of Ibn Tulun on our way out of Islamic Cairo - the oldest still-working mosque in the city from 876 AD

We stopped briefly at the Mosque of Ibn Tulun on our way out of Islamic Cairo - the oldest still-working mosque in the city from 876 AD. That's Haitham near the door for scale - over 5,000 people can fit in here for prayer!

Although there were a couple more mosques and a so-called “Military Museum” in the Citadel as well, we didn’t tarry there much longer so that we could get to the Egyptian Museum, which was every bit as staggering in complexity, size, and amount of treasures as everyone says. Haitham tried once again his “trick” of getting me an Arabic ticket for a fraction of the price (2 pounds versus 60 pounds yet again), but it once again failed and made me embarrassed for his attempt. In this case, he not only tried to get me the cheap ticket, but then tried to bribe the guard at the turnstile when he refused my entry. The guard wasn’t upset or angry about my attempt – unlike the one at Giza the previous day! It seems that Haitham wasn’t the first Arab to try to get foreign friends into the Museum for cheap. The fact that the American University of Cairo is right across the street probably increases the frequency. “Any other Egyptian might accept your bribe, but I want to have principles about this behavior,” he told us. “Sorry, just bring me your regular ticket and go in.” It was the last time that I would allow Haitham to try “assisting” me in ticket-switching.

The eye-catching red brick exterior seems to give a friendly warning: "prepare to be overwhelmed by my contents!"

The eye-catching red brick exterior seems to give a friendly warning: "prepare to be overwhelmed by my contents!"

It was like we were crammed inside all the tombs of Egypt, all at the same time, with every other tourist in Egypt. Organization is near non-existent besides a few signs scattered about randomly, and I estimated that a mere quarter to third of the exhibits actually had descriptions. I hope they’re taking that juicy foreign tourist money and putting it to good use on organizing this place.

No photos seemed to be allowed when I was there, but WikiTravel mentions that photography is accepted in the mornings with a little extra ticket. I’d like to try again later on in the trip and see if I can get some good shots of the Pharaoh Tutankhamen’s treasure, which along with the famous mummies, are the most well-organized in the museum.

Near 6:30 PM's closing time, no one cares what you photograph anymore...it's just you, the dim lighting, and the ancients.

Near 6:30 PM's closing time, no one cares what you photograph anymore...it's just you, the dim lighting, and the ancients.

I paid another extra 60 pounds to go in and see the Royal Mummies exhibit, and for one of the first times in our trip, Haitham definitely seemed excited to see these and he didn’t complain about the duration of my stay in the room. In neat Lenin-esque glass cases the ancient rulers lay entombed, their only companions yellowed wrappings, a few swaddled bits of cloth (seemingly placed for modesty’s sake) and in each case, a gleaming silver moisture and humidity sensor. I’d seem pictures of some of the more famous mummies before, like Ramses II and Seti I (supposedly the inspiration for Boris Karloff’s interpretation of The Mummy) but to see them in person, with only a few centimeter of glass behind us, was breathtakingly macabre. To meet these men and women, nose to nose and eye to socket and see how incredibly well preserved they were after 3,500 years was humbling and reminded me again as to why this culture was so incredible. Teeth, small scars from acne or or big ones from battle, hair, and even eyelashes were all present and the descriptions in the cases were long and detailed.

Note: my obsolete guidebook from 2004 didn’t mention this, but there are actually two mummy rooms now, one on either side of the second floor, each one with 7 or 8 mummies. Our tickets were good for both rooms, but we didn’t realize there was a second ones until minutes before it closed!

Later that evening, Haitham and I hunted down train tickets for our first out-of-Cairo experience, a journey to the Mediterranean Sea in Alexandria. We selected second class, but splurged the extra 20 pounds for first class for another trip to Luxor a few days from now. The Ramsees Station is not a good part of town for foreigners, and I learned that technically, non-Arabs are only supposed to take the luxury sleeping cars for overnight rides down to the south. The difference between prices between our first-class regular car and the deluxe sleeping car was 90 pounds versus 332 pounds. Haitham almost fainted at the thought. The ticket seller in the regular window angrily shouted at him when he saw me (we were getting used to this by now) – “You’re trying to buy tickets for a foreigner! Get out of here! He has to ride on the sleeping train!” However, Haitham, ever resourceful, snuck off to a second purchasing area further down the station while I hid around a pillar and busied myself by feeling like a tourist attraction as people gawked at me. I was glad that my hat mostly covered my sun-bleached hair but there was no escaping the fact that I was, indeed, the only Westerner in the entire station.

On the way back to our hostel, we toasted our good fortune and mastery of the Egyptian rail system with huge mugs of inexpensive strawberry juice – each mug was the equivalent of 50 cents, an unheard of price in America or Jordan where strawberries are more like a luxury item. The Cairo stage of our journey is over – now it’s time to start seeing the rest of the country!