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Blondie goes shopping
Blondie could barely believe such coincidence, but it was true, or so we were assured. The friendly Egyptian man had opened his new perfume shop only that day and, by chance or in unknown anticipation of our visit, he had named his new business Kia Ora. That is what the Egyptian signage read he assured us, and we guessed we just had to take his word for it. Just as we believed the man selling Chanel sunglasses who replied, when Kaelene pointed out the label said Made in China, that the sunglasses themselves were made in Italy, it was just the label that was made in China. Consistent with her usual polite self, Kaelene refrained from pointing out that Chanel is a French brand, not Italian, and that five euro, best price, seemed a bit light for genuine designer eyewear.
This was the Khan el Khalili bazaar in old Cairo, a maze of streets and alleyways packed with stalls selling everything from tourist trinkets to jewelry, spices, clothes, carpets, material, paintings, household goods and smoking apparatus. You name it, everything aimed at separating tourists from their money, but all at a good negotiable price, and there is good stuff. Were it not that we are trying to travel light we would have brought some Ouds, beautiful guitar-like musical instruments, and Dumbek drums, and any number of old Arabic photographs.
The Khan el Khalili bazaar was the scene only weeks ago of a bomb which killed a person and injured several others. Today tourist police are there by the dozen to ensure safety, but not even they could have anticipated the greatest danger to order being Marty losing his footing and slipping down a dozen steps. In the event, the only threat was to dignity and composure rather than life and limb.
In fact security everywhere in Cairo is high. Entry to hotels and tourist venues requires passing through metal detectors, armed police roam the streets and tourist police with machine guns are highly visible, including on camels at the pyramids. But they are user-friendly, for around ten Egyptian pounds they’ll let you take their photo.
Egyptian men are known for their expressions of interest in women, Western women in particular, and we, or at least Kaelene, were not immune. Not only did a number of men call out, referring to her as Blondie, they gave Marty gestures or that knowing look indicating they thought she was a bit of alright. At our age it could be flattering, but not so for the Australian woman at the hotel who regaled us with her story of being groped by a taxi driver the previous day. The price paid apparently for sitting in the front seat.