P.Y.R.A.M.I.D.S.

Right.

In keeping with the Daft Punkian theme here, I finally made it out to see the pyramids in Giza.

Now, first up, Giza is essentially a suburb of Cairo filled with ugly, dirt-stained apartment blocks. If the pharaohs could see what Giza has become, they’d be turning in their graves…or in the British Museum or wherever they’re buried these days.

ANYWAYS……

Along with being Cairo’s armpit, Giza is also Cairo’s shit receptacle. What a dump. Seriously. Some of Giza’s more charming attributes include shit-clogged canals, shit-clogged streets and shit-clogged shit heads trying to scam some of your shit. Shit city indeed.

My roommate and I (not Sinbad – I have a new place and a new living situation) took Cairo’s efficient metro system out to Giza and BAM! As soon as we stepped off the metro (which is about 30 minutes drive from the pyramids) people were already starting to harass us.

“Wear you fron? Oh! Canadah! Canada dry! Hahahaha…Welcome to Egyptian!”

Long story short, we agreed to get into this minibus which – we were told – was to take us to the main gates of the Giza plateau. Well, the bus didn’t take us to the Giza plateau; it took us to some dirty prick’s stable where said prick tried to get LE 140 (140 Egyptian pounds) out of us to ride some of his fucking camels around the desert for a while.

I’d had enough and told him I could get into the gates for LE 30, at which point he responded with “your 30 pounds is shit!”

I lost it. Snap.

“You’re shit!” I told him, and we stormed outta there – through shit-stained stables and garbage-lined alleys – and headed toward the main gates.

People are really friendly here, but much like people in Peru and other third-world tourist havens, a good chunk of the “friendly” people are simply looking to get into your pants. Wallet, I mean.

As we approached the great pyramids, the locals swarmed around us like Ginos swarm a
Diesel Factory outlet sale. It was loco.

When one guy tugged at my sleeve and asked me where I was from, I pulled out my massive BlueBlocker sunglasses, put them on and said blankly: “I’m from the future.”
He didn’t get it. (Photo courtesy of my dirtbag roomate, Mr. Shane McNeil Esq.)

Finally, we realized that the pyramids actually closed at 3 p.m. (I’m getting mega sick of Ramadan) and thus, we were forced to take a tour AROUND the site. So we got on some wild horses and galloped away from the crowds, away from the shit, away from the garbage and away from Giza.

We rode into the desert and met the Pyramids.