A Hotel Review

While we were in Egypt we stayed in two hotels—one a five star and one a “three star,” but I wouldn’t have been so generous. The first hotel we stayed in was the Pyramisa, and I couldn’t have been more pleased. It was at this hotel that I made my (female) Arab friend that wanted my number, they had excellent breakfasts and friendly staff, and the hotel was clean. Like really clean. The hot water and the water pressure worked, the air conditioning actually cooled the room down, and we had a beautiful balcony that overlooked the city. The location was great too—not right in the middle of downtown Cairo, but close enough to walk to many of the touristy sites and even use your Arabic often. The outside of the building was a hideous peach color, but it was visible from far away so you knew how to get there when you got close.

After staying in the Pyramisa for a glorious three days (and probably paying way too much for it too—but the sign in the room said it was only $45/night for double occupancy!), we rode an overnight train to Luxor and back. This was absolutely dreadful. In addition to trying to sleep on a rollicking train and shaving my legs in the 8” sink, as well as two nights without showering after two full days of touring Luxor and Cairo, I was also dreadfully sick (yes, I finally got the curse of the Nile and was sick for several days) and the bathroom on the train was disgusting (what can you expect from something that flushes straight onto the tracks below? In addition to being filthy, the toilet seat was on springs and was at about a 45 degree angle unless you sat on it—making “hovering” very difficult, because you either had to hover above or below the seat!). By the time we returned from Luxor to Cairo at 6 am Friday morning, the only thing that most of us could think about was a shower—and then maybe some sleep before we had to go to church at 8:30.

This time we were staying in the Cosmopolitan hotel in the middle of downtown Cairo. This hotel was probably Dil’s idea, as it was filthy and in the middle of “Arabicness” (meaning that we had to speak Arabic all the time to get around, as the hotel attendants didn’t speak much English). I walked into my room, threw my stuff on the bed, and immediately walked into the bathroom for a quick shower before church. Imagine my disgust and horror when upon entering, I immediately killed three cockroaches. Thoroughly disgusted, I pulled the shower curtain back and saw mold so thick on the curtain that it was stuck to itself and could not be pulled straight.

I quickly surmised that it was an excellent idea that they took us to this hotel after the train ride to Luxor and back, so that we were so filthy that such disgusting conditions were tolerable. Fighting back the bile in my throat, I turned on the shower, only to discover that we had no hot water (it did come on after about five minutes). I guess my bathroom at the Brittany was a precursor of what was to come!

The next day I told myself, if I kill another cockroach I am going home! Arabic is not worth this to me! And then I killed another cockroach. And then I realized, this is like mission prep, right? And then I killed another cockroach. And then that night I walked into my hotel room, and my roommate was sitting on the bed, white faced and looking like she might throw up. She told me that she had just killed 10 and hadn't even gotten them all because they ran away too fast.

And then I used my overpowering presence to demand a new room from the hotel management.

Actually, I meekly asked my Arabic teacher if he would ask the hotel management if I could have a new room, because I realized I don't even know the word for bugs--let alone cockroaches!

The first room they gave us as an option had a dead cockroach lying in the middle of the floor of the bathroom. We closed the door and walked away.

The second room, while cockroach free, seemed to have a problem with the air conditioning. You see, instead of blowing cold air, which is what air conditioning is supposed to do, it blew humidity.

No joke.

When I woke up at 4:00 am on the morning we were flying out to Jordan, it was like 100 degrees in the room.

When Spencer, my Arabic teacher, asked if we (the students) had any small change left that we wanted to tip the hotel staff with, I said, "Are you kidding me? I am never coming back to this place again!!!"

Famous last words? I hope not.