Originally published on Missives from Suburbia

Before we left for Egypt, more than one friend called it the “trip of a lifetime”. Between you and me, I smirked to myself just a bit, because I’ve been fortunate to travel to incredible places all over the world, and I’ve had many trips that I would classify as “trips of a lifetime”.

I’m not going to back down completely – I still think I’m a lucky, lucky girl when it comes to my travel experiences, and I’ve had many “once in a lifetime” experiences – but standing in the shadow of the Pyramid of Khufu, the only remaining member of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, filled cynical little me with awe. Hubby and I kept repeating, “We’re at the pyramids. We’re at the pyramids.” It’s so surreal that we had to remind ourselves we were actually there.

Within minutes, we were climbing the pyramid’s external stairs, leaning and stepping on stones that were thousands and thousands of years old and worn smooth and shiny from the touch of countless hands and feet. Stooping and crawling, we scaled the interior passageway to the main chamber.

At the base of the pyramid, our guide, Hashim, had challenged us to decide whether the main chamber had been created after the pyramid was built or if the pyramid was built around the room. It was dark inside, but by the light of a dozen Japanese tourists’ flashlights, we were able to make out an empty sarcophagus and the high, smooth walls and ceiling of the chamber. We stood, hushed, trying to imagine the gold treasures and offerings that might have been stored here at one time. Then we mocked the Japanese for their crazy SARS masks. (Highbrow all the way.)

The trek back down the passageway isn’t easy. In order to squeeze through the lowest portions, you spend
most of the climb in a squatting position on a very steep decline. It’s a ridiculous amount of stress to put on one’s knees. Hubby tore his ACL when we were in Vail, and he’s slated for surgery the day after we
return from this vacation, so he was working his way down, accompanied
by acute knee pain. Our quads have been paying us back for days.

But as we reached the end of the passageway, we passed the entrance to the mastaba, the lower chamber of the pyramid, where the Egyptians placed their kings’ mummies in anticipation of the body’s journey to the
afterlife. It was gated off, and apparently, it has been for over ten years now. We asked one of the men working at the pyramid why it was closed, and instead of giving us an answer, he stubbed out his
cigarette and motioned for us to follow him. Making us promise not to tell anyone, he opened the gate for us and allowed us to peer down the passageway. It was longer and narrower than the one we’d just exited.
He wouldn’t allow us to climb down and into the mastaba itself, but just catching a glimpse of it was enough.

We broke into the sunshine and rescued Hashim from Kiddo, who’d been waiting not-so-patiently (or quietly) for us outside. Then we stood and marveled at the pyramids for a bit longer before moving on to the Great Sphinx and a short camel ride.

By the way, my theory that the room was built first and the pyramid constructed around it turned out to be correct. I’m sorry to say no photos are allowed inside, so I can’t share the details of my theory. I suppose that means you’ll have to take your own trip of a lifetime to Egypt someday.

______________

Editor’s Pick by Nicole from Soapbox Mom. From the moment I discovered Deb at Missives from Suburbia, I knew I’d found a gem.  The clean, clutter-free design of her blog set her apart from the crowd, but more importantly, her dry wit, eloquence and savvy perspective kept me hungering for more.

When she is not traveling the world or writing new articles for her blog, Missives From Suburbia, Deb contributes her insights as the editor of BlogNosh’s Pregnancy, Birth & Adoption channel.

You’ll likely be hooked, so why not subscribe?  You can subscribe to her feed right from here and read the original post for this article here.