The Wonder of It All - Day 1 - The Lighthouse

11/27/15, “The Lighthouse”

Alexandria, Egypt

Four down, three to go.  All I have to do is look up, and I can envision the great Pharos, the Lighthouse of Alexandria standing tall right here.  The Citadel in this picture?  It was rebuilt with the stones of the lighthouse after the destruction by earthquakes.  For a millennium, Alexandria served as the world’s center of learning and culture.  It was the capital of Egypt during Hellenic times.  It had the greatest library in the world.  All of that lost, but they rebuilt.  They made this citadel.  They made a new library.  They moved the capital to Cairo.  They rebuilt.  Tomorrow I will visit the Pyramids.  In six months, the Colussus of Rhodes.  Iraq is too dangerous to visit, but there is no proof the Hanging Gardens ever existed, so it might only actually be Six Wonders of the Ancient World.  I am nearing completion of that goal.

Hundreds of local and tourists are watching the sun set behind me.  I only have eyes for what is front of me.  I can see the lighthouse in front of me with my waking eyes.  If I close my eyes I can see the bright lights and a ship coming in.  It doesn’t take much imagination.  It feels real.  Okay, so how did I get to this spot?  Wasn’t I supposed to go to the pyramids first?  I knew it would be a game decision.  Much like the finale of Felicity, I expected I wouldn’t decide until I was in the car and uttered a name.

The flight was almost empty, maybe 30% capacity.  I had a full row to myself.  When we got on the plane, during dinner time, I watched Lucy, which was seriously meh.  I then slept until breakfast time, watching Happy Christmas.  It starred Anna Kendrick, whom I am now absolutely convinced is a perfect ten, ironically displacing her Twilight co-star Kristen Stewart from the list.  The more I thought about it, the stupider it seemed to go to the Pyramids today.  If I went straight to Alexandria, I could get to the Citadel with time to write and entry and have a cigar before dark.  I could get my souvenirs, have time to relax, dinner and a movie, get a decent sleep, and be in Giza before noon tomorrow.

Also, I had the suitcase.  What was I going to do with the suitcase at the Pyramids?  That was the deal breaker.  Tomorrow I can just drop off the suitcase at the hotel in Giza and walk to the Pyramids.  It makes more sense.  I took some money out at the ATM and had to buy a tourist visa.  Border control was brief, though my Iranian visa did raise an eyebrow.  As soon as I cleared Customs, someone asked me if I needed a ride.  I asked how much to go to the Pyramids.  He told me.  Hmm.  How much to go to Alexandria?  He became my new best friend and told me to come with him.  I am wise enough to know that there was no way I was giving him my suitcase until he named a price.

It was 11:57 AM.  Then I heard it.  The call to prayer.  I proceeded to the Duty Free shop, but they told me I had to wait 15 minutes because of it.  I picked up 35 cigars, smaller ones, since they didn’t have bigger ones that I wanted.  I then asked again the driver how much he wanted to charge.  He named a price that was too high.  I named the price I expected to pay.  He named a price in the middle.  I agreed.  We got in the car, and we were on our way.

View of the Pyramids from the road

Reader, when I travel to unseemly parts of the world, my greatest fear is being kidnapped.  I do not fear being shot or being caught in an explosion, but being kidnapped remains a legitimate fear.  It would be so easy for a taxi driver to call an associate, speaking in a foreign language, and drive me to an out of the way location.  I kept my Google Maps open to make sure we were staying on the right road, but he was using his phone a lot, not talking on it, just using it.  He was a very reckless driver, and I was also worried on that account.

To be honest, getting injured in a car accident is probably an even more likely concern.  I lit up a Partagas as we drove.  I sent my mother an email, a just in case email, letting her know what was happening and that my phone had GPS tracking in case anything happened.  I even thought about where I’d hide my phone.  After the cigar, I took a nap, and I checked that we were still on the right road.  The one saving grace that came to mind was that he wouldn’t have haggled over price if he intended to kidnap me.  We had to stop at two police checkpoints, and he got a speeding ticket for a large amount by his standards, low by American standards.

We were soon in Alexandria, and he had no idea where the hotel was, and he wasn’t even listening to me when I gave him GPS directions.  We found it eventually, and I knew he was going to try to screw me on the price.  He named a price higher than what we agreed, and he started screaming at me.  I wound up giving him halfway between the original price and the new price he had named, just due to the combination of banknotes I had, but it wasn’t enough for him.  I told him goodbye and walked into the hotel.  He drove off.

View of the Citadel from my room

I checked in, and my room was top-notch.  I could see the Citadel from my bed.  It was perfect.  I changed into my shorts, the same outfit I have worn for each of the Wonders of the Ancient World I have visited so far, and headed down.  I checked out some souvenir shops, knowing how unlikely it would be to find a replica of the lighthouse.  They had magnets, so that was close.  I took a taxi to the citadel, and they had dozens of souvenir shops.  If any place would have my replica, it would be here.  No such luck.  I got a keychain, some magnets, and a plate, but no replica.

Here stood the Lighthouse of Alexandria.  Four down, three to go.

Sunset was coming up, so I needed to do my thing.  I took my ceremonial pictures, lit up my H. Upmann, took my sip of water, and announced what needed to be announced: “Four down, three to go.”  I posted all over social media and then sat down.  Some guy asked me if I wanted tea.  I didn’t.  He then told me I had to pay to sit.  It was such a small amount he asked that I just gave it to him to walk away.  I then proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close, as I am starving and want to get some dinner.

Again, it’s all so familiar.  Swap out the Arabic writing with Hebrew, and I’d believe you if you told me I was back in Akko.  Swap it with Farsi, and I think I was back in Tehran.  Swap it with Greek, and I’d think I was in Athens.  With the exception of Tehran, which is not on the Mediterranean, it’s all the same.  The food is the same, the cars, the the aggressive driving, and the heat.  Arabic, Israeli, and Hellenic cultures, all the same, subject to minor disagreements on who was and was not a prophet or a son of god.  The city is even called Alexandria, named after Alexander the Great.  Cairo, that’s as Greek of a name as you can imagine.  It’s literally two letters (chi and rho) of the Greek alphabet strung together.  It means Christ.

I am staring off at the remains of the Lighthouse, the Wonder of the Ancient World, no different than I did the Temple of Artemis (a Greek Goddess) in Ephesus.  What is most familiar to me, is the evening nap I have been taking either before or after dinner in almost every country I have visited in the Middle East.  The heat takes a lot out of me.  It makes me tired and hungry.  I experience whenever I go to a hot climate, nowhere more so than the Middle East, even though the temperature here is quite mild in November, just as it was mild in Akko in January 2013.

That did not stop me from skipping my movie and passing out as soon as I got back to the hotel after dinner.  So, about that dinner.  Well, it is my custom to avoid using monetary amounts in this entry, but to point the extent to which my driver back from the Citadel tried to rip me off I will have to waive that custom.  Oh, first, I stopped to get some pastries from a vendor as I walking away from the Citadel, and I handed him a small banknote that I thought should cover the three pastries.  I literally overestimated by an order of magnitude.  He gave me 90% of my money back in change.

Okay, so then I found a horse and carriage that would take me back to my hotel.  The exchange rate is about 8 Egyptian Pounds to 1 American Dollar.  They said it would be 70 Pounds ($9) to go back to my hotel, fine.  It was a horse and carriage, definitely contributed to the experience.  I lit up my Davidoff, and we were on our way.  He kept trying to scam  me, in what way I wasn’t sure, getting me to stop and take a picture at some Mosque or go to the new library or stop at the bazaar.  I had to tell him a half dozen times just to take me back to the hotel.  It got to the point where I was starting to get angry at him.

When we got back to the hotel, I took out a banknote for 200 Pounds, asking if he had change.  He asked me if I had dollars, saying that the fare was $50.  Wait, WHAT?!?  I gave him the benefit of the doubt, thinking maybe he did the conversion wrong and reminded him that they said 70 Pounds.  No, that was not enough, he said.  In Pounds, it would be 200 Pounds.  Wasn’t this the same scam the driver tried to pull on me earlier?  My astute reader will also note that $50 is actually about 400 Pounds.  Was he bad at math or just so desperate to make his scam?  I handed a 200-Pound banknote in my end and would not give it to him until he produced 100 Pounds in change.  Eventually, he did, and angrily accepted almost 50% more than the price he originally quoted.

I checked at the front desk to see if they had an adapter for my electronics.  Again, they produced a non-American adapter.  This time, she sent me out in search.  There were lots of cell phones shops down the street, but almost no one spoke English.  Eventually, I found the adapter and got two of them.  I relaxed with the rest of my cigar and tried to plan my evening.  The oldest restaurant in Alexandria (not even a hundred years old I noted) was a short walk away, and I could then take a taxi to the movie and see a 9:30 PM showing of “The Secret in Their Eyes.”  The receptionist had never heard of the restaurant.  How good could a restaurant be if a receptionist at a hotel a few blocks away never heard of it?

She instead recommended the Fish Market, calling it the best restaurant in Egypt for fish.  I took a taxi, not negotiating a fare beforehand.  He asked for a much more reasonable fare of, I suppose I’ll continue to waive avoiding monetary amounts, 20 Pounds ($2.50) for a distance about halfway to the Citadel.  The restaurant had a big station of seafood on ice, and you pick your own and tell them how you want it and what sides.  This is what my mother would call a dream restaurant.

The fish was fresh and local and delicious.  I got some fried calamari, fried shrimp, and a fried seabass, along with bread, brown rice, and a Diet Pepsi.  I was able to smoke inside the restaurant, so I lit up an Aroma de Cuba.  It was a delectable feast, but it knocked me out.  I got a Turkish coffee to go with the rest of my cigar, but that only put me further to sleep.  I knew there was no way I wanted to sit through a movie that would get me home after midnight, just so that I could say I saw a movie in Egypt, especially one that only has a 40% rating on Rotten Tomatoes.

I took a taxi back to the hotel and realized that I could go out later to a hookah lounge, which would be an even more interesting experience.  I pretty much passed out as soon as I got back to the hotel.  I woke up at 11 PM local time, starving.  I scarfed down a candy bar and some chips, but I don’t think it was enough.  Hopefully the hookah lounge will have food.  I rubbed out some tobacco and filled up my 2013 Christmas Pipe.  I then headed to the ledge by the window with the view of the Citadel, where I lit up my pipe and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can finish my pipe and publish the entry before I head out.  I feel like I’m ready to take on the world.  Or, maybe I’ll catch the 12:30 AM showing of the movie, doubt it, though.