There are four squash courts in the fitness center. One is a great looking glass court with 8 rows of stadium seating. Amr and Beeso each trained a boy for 45 minutes, than switched. The morning's training was physically demanding and hot. In the States they may do a single drill for 20 shots, whereas here they repeat a shot at least 40 times. Will monitored the squash action and videotaped the boys playing. After two hours both Bear (Will) and Willy were beat. Willy's forearm hurt, so Amr suggested a shot from the pharmacy in the mall. Apparently Amr and the others in the squash world keep pain at bay with these shots. So, Willy got a shot in his bottom and then iced his arm.
Never one to just hang out, I had planned on working out while the boys played squash. On the hotel website, which was confirmed by the concierge who I emailed, the fitness center offered yoga and oriental dance (belly dancing). On arrival, I found out that in fact this is not true. There are stretch and toning classes, taebo, kickboxing, step and crunch classes, but not what I had wanted. No use wallowing in disappointment, so I decided to try the stretch and tone class. Even though I was late to the studio, there was no one there. Upon inquiry, the instructor, Hatham emerged from a back room and proceeded to be my personal trainer for the next 45 minutes. To the sounds of "We are Family" I did exactly what I hate to do--sets of isometric exercises, while Hatham walked around and corrected my form, and then grunted "good".
Lunch was at a smoky, European style cafe, Egyptian chain called Cilantro. We chose from the menu yet when we ordered we were told that those items were not available, because this menu was the old one. When we asked for the new menu, they said they didn't have one yet. I ordered mushroom soup accompanied by bread and butter. When I was served the soup without the bread, I asked my waiter for it. After a puzzled look, he returned with a tiny packet of croutons. After many explanations, he kind of understood and with great flourish brought me brown toast. Not quite the soft roll I had envisioned.
Our driver, Mohammed took us to the famed Egyptian Museum. Here lie the mummy remains of many pharoahs and their families, the spoils of King Tut's tomb, and thousands of other relics found in tombs across Egypt. We found a guide Marwa outside the museum and after negotiationg a bit, she agreed to accompany us for 2 hours for 150 Egyptian pounds which is about $30. ($1 = 5.5 Egyptian pounds). She told us about the Rosetta Stone, the Old, Middle and New Kingdom's, and all about King Tut. We saw the noble families' mummified pets--the dogs, cats, miniature gazelles, and monkeys.
What seemed to interest the boys the most was Marwa's explanation of why some Muslim women wear the veil. She said Egyptians don't care what women wear as it is their personal choice. She was wearing a long sleeve tight jersey shirt, and knit vest, jeans and a head scarf. She was sweating profusely and had B.O. She said she wore the veil because it was her tradition. And she wore long sleeves (even in 100 degree weather) because the Koran says women are to cover their body. (Never mind you could see just what kind of body she had because her clothes were tight and form fitting.) She felt sorry for the women of the gulf states who have to wear a black burqua whenever they are out. We have seen alot of these women here--black ghosts walking around. Yet their eyes peeking out of that black shroud reveal lots of mascara and eyeliner. They carry designer pocketbooks in bright colors and their black burquas are often studed and sport glittery designs. Marwa said that often these women remove their burquas during the plane rides from Saudi Arabia and Qatar to Egypt if they have the blessing of their husband. Their freedom hinges on what their husbands allow them to do. We concurred with Marwa that this was very sad.
Except for the vault room with King Tut's jewelry and gold mummy case which blasted cold air, the rest of the Egyptian museum had temperatures hovering in the high 90s. It made us all tired and the boys clamored for a nap. Will lay out by the pool and I explored the mall upon our return. The mall is enormous--it is a so called Hypermall with 800 stores. Despite the proliferation of stores, there was nothing I wanted to buy. The clothes are too patterned and flimsy. Even the BCBG store had merchandise that was too short and too skimpy. Guess who is buying and wearing these sassy fashions? You got it, the burquad women were buying. Apparently they come to the Intercontinental and stay for a month. Since they can't lay out by the pool comfortably in the burqua, they shop.
Will's trip to the pool was a fiasco. After a short swim he ordered a beer and lay on a chaise lounge. In short order he spotted a 120 pound Egyptian man groping his prostitute date while she was throwing up. Then the flies started attacking Will. When he swallowed a fly that had flown into he beer he had had enough.
We met Amr for dinner in Zamalek, the island in Cairo which is often referred to as Cairo's Manhattan. He had just finished playing a match with the number 1 player in the world, Karim Darwish. Amr's club features the usual squash, tennis and golf, but also has a horse race track on its premises. He took us to a restaurant, Abu El Saed, a couple of blocks up the street which served traditional Egyptian fare. We felt we were entering a movie set. It was dark with old fashioned sofas and chairs set in groups around large coffee tables. The people were British, Saudi, Egyptian and us. Amr did the ordering. Willy reported that his chicken in a walnut creamy sauce called sharkasia was the best meal of his life. Bear had molokheya with chicken and I had koshary (mixture of fried onion, chickpeas, lentils, rice and noodles. Will and Amr had veal shanks with cinammon flavored rice. The biggest surprise were the appetizers-- delicious mohbar, wara rinbab and the unanimous favorite FOUL pronounced FULL which is creamed fava beans drizzled with a yogurt sauce which we ate with pita chips.
Another suprise of the evening was the hookah pipe called shisha. Most tables had ordered one, and even the burquad women were each smoking one. Amr ordered a pipe for our table and asked us what flavor we wanted: apple, peach, coca cola, red bull or grape. Since grape is the most popular we went with that. Let me get this straight, I am an anti-smoker, but I wanted to be a good sport with our host Amr, so I agreed to take one little puff, but I was scared since the only time a tried a cigarette I took one puff and it tasted terrible and burned my lungs and I swore off any type of smoking as disgusting and bad. To my surprise the grape shisha was so innocuous and mild, I didn't even know I inhaled, until I exhaled. The big puff of smoke coming out of my mouth was shocking because I didn't feel it. The rest of the group partook of the shisha concurred that this was a one time fun activity to have tried in Egypt.
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