*** Tuesday, 01Aug06 ***
I walked down to the Grand Hyatt to go to the Yakoubian Building at the cinema there. I found the cinema but was 90 minutes early for the show so I decided not to wait. Instead, I had a beer at the bar in the main lobby and just enjoyed the ambience. People sat around in the multi-levels relaxing and chatting in small groups. It was near six P.M. so it was probably a high point for lobby observation.

The music being played seemed nicer and better played than the Semiramis but maybe its exactly the same music every night just like the Semiramis.

The Cairo Hyatt (rightmost two buildings) as seen from across the Nile.

The four story window wall facing west was covered in some kind of muslin colored fabric that tamed the direct rays of the sun into a healthy glow. You couldn't see out but the light didn't blind you either.

It was good that I like the ambience of the lobby because I didn't like the bar bill. One Heinekin cost me 40 LE, about 6.50 USD. It may have been Hotel Heaven there but it was a heaven that I could not afford for long.

*** Wednesday, 02Aug06 ***
I am really pissed off at the hotel. I agreed to move into 1401 this AM to escape the direct sunlight late in the day and when I got back this P.M. they told me they had switched me to 801 and this young female behind the counter proceeded to say that "They are both the same." "No they are not!" I said. 801 faces the Shepheard Hotel and gets NO direct sunlight. You have to go out on the patio and crane your neck up there to even see the light. 1401 was nearly at the top of the Shepheard and would have gotten decent midday light.

This hotel claims to be classy but its operations are really sleazy. It has a veneer of quality but not the substance. I don't think they know what quality really is.

*** Friday, 04Aug06 ***
I awoke at 2:45 and heard all the noise outside once again. But, feeling rested, I decided to go out and see what was happening. At 3 A.M. the lobby seemed as busy as ever. When I got to the Nile bridge everyone in Cairo seemed to be there, sitting on the railing, walking along, riding along in the horse-drawn carriages, standing on the roofs of cars parked on the bridge and in the innumerable cars crossing the bridge. I have never seen such night-life anywhere else. As always, people were very friendly and welcomed me to Egypt, asked where I was from and, generally, made me feel very welcome.

There were a lot of young children with their parents as well. These kids seemed to be the primary source of the exploding fire crackers -- you know what I mean, you throw them on the ground and they explode with a "crack" sound. Well the kids seemed to enjoy throwing these fireworks at the feet of the horses who had apparently seen far worse because none of the horses seemed to notice.

*** Saturday, 05Aug06 ***
I awoke about 2:30 A.M. and decided to walk across the bridge. It was a pleasant experience. Everyone was friendly and welcoming and only one person seemed put out that I was an American.

As I approached the far side of the bridge, a young man introduced himself to me as Amr. He suggested that we got to "a bar in Zamalek" that turned out to be Drinkies, the liquor store there. I bought us each a bottle of beer and we walked back to the Nile and drank the beer on the embankment. He opened each bottle with his teeth, a skill I am not willing to learn. Then we went to Chez Thomas and each had a pizza. He chose something that seemed to have olives all over it and I got a margharita. He was quite friendly but his English was not very good.

I went to sleep around 5 A.M. and got up at 9 A.M. and took a good walk north along the Corniche to the bridge north of Zamalek, across the bridge, and then south to the first bridge between Zamalek and Mohandeseen. Over the bridge and I was nearly where I had been the night before. I finally broke down and took a cab the last distance to the Semiramis.
Sheena came down to the pool and we talked about Pat who, Sheena told me, needed to be med-evaced to the States. She had some GI problem before she came here and got Rameses Revenge big time but wouldn't give in. Now she is in some hospital IC unit (read somewhat cleaner) and can't go home unaccompanied. When you think about it, it is really scary.

** Saturday, 12Aug06 ***
Hands of Fatima
With Judie's address from the blue bag that I gotten from the silver store, I found where I had bought here Hand of Fatima and tried to buy five more. They only have two in stock so I have to go back.

The gold plated plumbing in the Presidential Suite.

My cup runneth over
The toilet in 1404 had been burbling occasionally so I thought I might relieve its misery by flushing it. It was good that there were no contents in the bowl because all hell broke loose. The water flowed up and over and across and was headed everywhere with no intention of stopping this side of the Red Sea.

I called the operator and staff arrived quickly and started doing things that staff do in these situations. I sat on a chair in the patio and admired the Nile in the river. Staff had a real problem with the Nile in my bathroom and had piled towels at the doorway that backed up a good four inches of water but it was seeping into the room's carpet. Things were getting distinctly serious.

A handsome young man, Shehab Khalil, arrived and talked to me. He was clearly the night-time catastrophe manager and he told me that the room was no longer habitable so the hotel was putting me in the Presidential Suite for the night. Before I knew what hit me, I and all my possession were in the Suite and I was headed to bed.

*** Sunday, 13Aug06 ***
Five Star Efficiency
I was at work when I started to wonder if I was going to be ill. I wasn't ill but I felt like I had in other times when I went on to be ill. It isn't a pleasant feeling but it is really just a premonition of bad things to come. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling so I decided to go back to the hotel so that I could have facilities -- and privacy -- near at hand.

When I got to the hotel I went to the desk and asked what room I would be in. Karim told me that they had found a very good room for me, 1130. I asked for the key to the room and Karim told me that he would have the bellboy come to the Presidential Suite in five minutes and bring my things to 1130. It was about 3 P.M. so I wondered why this hadn't been done already but I went to the gold-plated-fixtures rooms and updated a document which Terry had asked for and emailed it to him. Then I noticed that it was a half-hour after I arrived so I wondered where the bellboy was. I waited and waited. Then I called the operator trying to get Karim at the front desk. She promised to call me back and didn't.

I went into the hallway and waited for the bellboy. A man was cleaning a nearby room and noticed me waiting -- apparently an unusual event. I waited and finally asked the guy if he could let me into 1130. He told me that only Reservations could give me a key. So I waited, not feeling well and now feeling irked.

I decided to go back to the Front Desk to press the issue. Karim seemed confused to see me there. I explained that I would like to have a key to 1130. He actually produced one in those cute little paper holders with the room number written on the paper. Karim explained that he would give the key to a bellboy who would move my things. He called a bellboy over and eventually an oversized boy (about 6 feet two inches) came over and Karim gave him the key and told him that my stuff was to be moved. The bellboy nodded and wandered away. I waited at the elevators for him but he never showed up so I went back to the Presidential Suite and waited. I was so eager to see the cart arrive to move my stuff that I started waiting in the hallway, wondering where in hell the bellboy was. The room cleaner finally felt something had to be done and told me to wait in the Presidential Suite and he would personally call the desk. I agreed but only because he seemed to be more agitated than I was and that was a statement.

Shortly thereafter the bellboy shows up and looks at my possessions and says, "I will get a cart to move you". Now I was feeling unpleasant and angry. How much thinking does it take to realize that a long term guest is best moved with a cart for luggage, hanging suits, and miscellaneous bags -- not to mention stacks of books and, of course, beer? He asked me for the key to the Suite but offered the key to 1130 in exchange so I took it. I think he thought he was getting the better end of the deal but all I wanted was to be in my room where I could relax. He left to get the cart.

Now I was feeling so angry that I didn't notice how nearly sick I might be and went back into the corridor to wait. It seemed better than pacing in the Presidential Suite where I might have marred the gold-plated plumbing. The room cleaner was finishing up his room and saw me and the expression on my face. "Do you have the key to 1130?", he asked. "Yes," I said. "I will help you move," he said and we pulled the two suitcases and carried the bags and generally got nearly everything into my new -- and much more modest -- digs.

At about this time the bellboy arrived back with the cart. All that was left to move was my hanging suits and 12 cans of Heineken. The bellboy seemed, finally, to comprehend that I was upset but I seriously doubt he could figure out why. From his point of view, something incomprehensible had happened. He put the last of my stuff on his cart and pushed it the 100 feet or so to my new room and then put the suits in the closet and the beer in the half-fridge and I showed him to the door and said, "Thank you," and closed the door.

I allowed some time for the bellboy to leave and then went down the hall to the man who had helped me. I called him out of the room he was working on and told him, "You are the only person in this hotel who understood what I wanted!" I don't think he fully understood what I said but the tip I gave him communicated that he, at least, had done the right thing.

The setting sun.