The lure of Egypt has been there since we started learning about the Land of the Pharaohs in primary school; seeing the Great Pyramids, the Sphinx and the mummified pharaohs in the Egyptian Museum is as phenomenal as any teacher ever suggested.

What our teachers never could have anticipated, though, was the enthusiastic welcome we received from the Egyptians.

"Thank you for coming to Egypt," people said, walking up to us on the street.
There were so few Westerners there, it surprised me.

Now, with the conflict between Lebanon and Israel, people in shops told us they feared tourism would dry up even further as travelers tend to erroneously associate Egypt with its warring tumultuous neighbours.

The Egyptian people do not deserve this.

With their eager welcomes, hospitality and mastery of the English language, travellers have a sense of being protected.

Driveways to hotels are blocked and guarded, vehicles are checked for bombs and entryways have security gates and X-ray machines.

I only felt nervous in the wildly unchanneled Cairo traffic, where every driver makes his own lane, and the pedestrian crosswalk is a rarity, making street-crossing a game of chicken that involves wading out among the cars and putting your hand up.

Otherwise, I never felt danger to my personage or property - and, well, let me tell you a story.
One afternoon my husband and I went to Khan al-Khalili, a bazaar that dates to mediaeval times. This fascinating labyrinth of alleyways and dense passageways sells everything from silks to spices, antiques, papyrus paintings and handcrafted gold and silver jewellery.

I was going for the gold.

Numerous small shops sell lovely stuff, but there's a process of getting there that involves running the gantlet of salesmen trying to pull you into their shop.

"Come inside, take a look," they beckon if you stop even for a nanosecond. Walk away and they lament your departure volubly, calling after you that you are missing the best bargains.

You have to adjust your mind-set to this peskiness. The art of soft-sell just isn't in the repertoire.

When we did go into one jewellery shop we found the owner intently watching a broadcast of Israel's attacks on Lebanon. We watched TV with him a while, sharing our sickened feelings.

 This man's English was good, and he expressed his fears that Egypt would be deeply affected by this conflict.

After shaking our heads sorrowfully and discussing the Middle East, we turned our attention to some beautiful gold necklaces. They were stunning but out of my price range, so we thanked him and left.

Anne Chalfant

Sydney Morning Herald
August 15, 2006