So, to begin with- and I’ll let you know when this changes- all of these photos were taken with a Canon ELF. They suck and are very low res. These were also taken in the time before I knew anything about photography. So, these are mostly for historical value.
That said, many trips begin in the living room of my parent’s house. This one was no exception.
The first place I went when I got to Egypt was Gouda’s hotel. It’s where my dad and I stayed when I came to Egypt the last time. Gouda is a weird dude. Don’t get me wrong- I liked him. But, he was strange. Very business-y. He has a lot of photos of him with Shirley MacLaine, who stayed at his hotel a couple of times. There were some other weirdos there who were really the first free-range mentally ill people I’d ever met. They were endlessly fascinating.
There were several people there. While I may have written their names down in a journal, I don’t much care to look them up. The best two were this guy (pictured below) who very much believed in ley lines. He had a map that he had marked up and clearly been using for quite some time. He came to the pyramids because of the ley line thing. He talked to me a lot of the concept. I never believed it and, being relatively young, I felt uncomfortable disagreeing with an adult. Particularly an adult who seemed so passionate about something which seemed so silly to me.
The other person was really two people. A couple. I saw the female partner once- her hairdo was aiming for a Carmen Miranda vibe but came off more like she walked under a waterfall made completely of a variety of fruit covered in hair spray. That may sound bonkers, but that’s because it was actually bananas. Really, though, there were bananas in her hair. And apples. And some pineapple. And an orange. These are full-sized fruit. I really want you to hold this picture in your mind.
Anyhow, the male partner of the pair was the prize winner of the group. He told me a story, in dead earnestness, which featured multiple facts which were impossible. He claimed that he had traveled through time and space by meditating inside of a copper pyramid. He also claimed that he was building a time machine in his garage. He went on to explain that he had been visited by a strange man wearing a Nasa jacket who encouraged him to keep at it and made a suggestion which helped him advance his work. Spoiler: he realized the man in the jacket was him from the future. I don’t know how long it would take younger me to recognize older me, but I don’t think that time would exceed the duration of a single sentence of speech. I’m not the time traveling man, though. Here’s what I will say about his time machine work: I never saw him again after our discussion. Likely, this means that he successfully traveled time. Actually, he was in his 60s 20 years ago. That dude is likely dead. Certainly, his wife’s fruit arrangement has aged with the firmness and grace of a wax figure in a fire.
I wasn’t there to hear the inner thoughts of technically sane people who legally vote and drive cars, though. I was there for the mother fucking pyramids. So, I went to the pyramids multiple times. It was a magical experience. I love Egypt. I hung out with Nasser (peace be upon him) a lot on this trip. I loved that dude. He was wild. Had a gun in his glove box. Bounced heads off his car hood. He was always kind and thoughtful with me, though. Introduced me to koshari. And falafel with egg in the batter. He let me figure out bargaining and hustling on my own and was the closest I’ll ever get to hanging out with Marlon Brando. He was my browner, younger, more-mustachioed Godfather. I often miss him. Anyway, check out the (Canon Elf, mind you!) photos of the pyramids from this vacation taken when I was 20-ish.
PS: This is the trip where I almost died. I say ‘this is the trip,’ as if there weren’t multiple trips where I almost died. I actually almost fell into a tomb shaft in one of the smaller tombs honey-combing the plateau at the feet of the pyramids. I was in the dark, slowly moving forward with a camera and popping off the flash to see what the camera could see in the dark. Saw a pit just before I stepped into it. Now I carry a flashlight all the time. Ultimately so I don’t die and so I can see stuff in the dark, but also because I don’t want to die in a tomb. For the record, I’m willing to die in a ossuary with Anna Falchi, in case she asks.
So, that’s a blog. More towards the historical photo project thing.