EGYPT
The Movement of Egypt.
Some trips feel like an escape. Cairo felt more like being dropped directly into something—fast, loud, and completely unapologetic about it.
From the start, nothing was particularly seamless. Our so-called “friend” no tour guide(because he could get in trouble?) was waiting for us at the airport, rushed us to separate cars and yet somehow we arrived exactly where we needed to be. That became a pattern: things didn’t always make sense in the moment, but they worked out anyway.
Our apartment was… humbling. The kind of place where you quickly adjust your standards—no toilet paper, questionable water pressure, rashes developing overnight—but it almost felt irrelevant. Cairo isn’t somewhere you go to stay comfortable. Let’s just say we were balling on a budget for this trip!
The Kind of Beautiful You Can’t Recreate
The first time I saw the pyramids, I didn’t say anything. None of us did.
Because how do you react to something that’s been standing there since 2500 B.C.? Something that existed long before you, your parents, your grandparents?
The first time we saw the pyramids was when we were driving in the car. Such a strange feeling to be doing something you are used to, to then look up and see the Great Pyramids of Giza. This is when we all fell silent. It is something I cannot put into words. Everyone must experience this once in their lifetime.
We rode camels—terrifying at first, then oddly calming once you surrendered to it. The desert stretched endlessly, the sun casting that golden, cinematic glow that made everything feel unreal. At one point, I remember thinking: this doesn’t even look like real life.
And maybe that’s the point.
The Nile, Unexpectedly
I didn’t expect the Nile to be one of my favorite nights, but it was.
We started on a smaller boat, watching the sunset, everything feeling calm and easy. And then, without much planning, it turned into something else—music, dancing, moving onto a bigger boat, the night stretching longer than expected.
No one was overthinking it. No one was trying too hard. It just… happened
Alexandria
After Cairo, Alexandria felt like a shift.
The Mediterranean changes everything—it’s brighter, softer, a little more relaxed. We spent the day by the Citadel, walking along the water, taking our time in a way we hadn’t in Cairo.
It’s still Egypt, just at a different pace.
At the Citadel of Qaitbay there were many school groups. They all would swarm around us for photos. This felt strange yet beautiful, It was weird to be praised for our looks but special to really be celebrating our differences.
What Egypt Is Actually Like
It’s not effortless.
There’s a constant energy—people approaching you, negotiating, trying to sell something. At first, it feels overwhelming. Then you adjust. You learn when to engage, when to walk away, how to move through it.
It makes you more aware, more present. You’re not just observing—you’re participating.
I think people can have really bad experiences visiting this country, people get scammed, you don’t know who you can trust. This is very unfortunate and we did deal with this to a degree. If I were to recommend anything it would be to get a tour guide, this is not a trip to do on your own. Hire someone to plan it all. Once you find one genuine person you are set.
The people of Egypt may have other motives and not always be on your side but they are there for the right reasons. Now you may be reading this thinking, what the heck did I just mean, BUT, when it came down to it, everyone wanted you to enjoy their country. They were kind people, they may be trying to get more money from you but that is solely because that is all they know, that is how they were raised.
The Parts That Stay With You
It’s easy to say the pyramids were the highlight—and they were—but that’s not really what stayed with me.
It was sandboarding in the desert.
Dancing without a plan.
The small interactions, the unexpected moments, the in-between parts of the trip that no one really prepares you for.
We had a day where we rode cars into the Fayoum desert. We sandboarded the dunes, climbed up them, and sat looking out. We danced barefoot in the desert with our tour guide. This is a moment I hope to remember for the rest of my life.
There was clapping, there was chanting—it was my friends, the tour guide, and the two drivers. The only life to be seen for miles. And I danced, battling with Falcon, our guide, while my friends cheered.
Moments like this, where you forget everything except what’s happening right in front of you.
From seeing ancient, ancient history to watching mirages of heat bounce off the desert sand, all while dancing my heart out under the Arabian sun.
Would I Go Back?
I would.
Not because it was perfect or easy—but because it felt real in a way that’s hard to find.
