Some twelve years ago, my friend and I were heading off on holiday together and wanted a destination that was completely different to anywhere we’d gone before.
After tossing around ideas, we made up our minds and when other friends asked what we’d be doing whilst they got smashed in Magaluf, we arched a disapproving eyebrow above our monocles and replied that we would be, “…soaking up the culture in Cairo, darling…“
(Side note: I probably threw up more than they did… don’t drink even a drop of the water.)
I’ve had an interest in Egyptology since childhood. Part of it stems from the adventurer inside me, wanting to emulate fictional characters such as Indiana Jones or Lara Croft. Much of it comes down to my fascination with their ancient gods and goddesses, the associated myths and inevitable superstitions. And if you’ve ever worked in the British education system, you can pretty much guarantee that every child will study the pharaohs at some point before the age of ten!
So, with a couple of days in the capital for pyramid spotting and then a week floating down the Nile, we set off on our North African Adventure!