Part 11

The attractions there are not numerous, but they are unique; unfortunately, a visit to the fortified galleries is now denied to visitors, but a beautiful drive to Europa Point and to the neutral ground, together with a walk through the park called the Alameda, is a fair compensation. The shops which line the narrow streets possess an Oriental aspect, and the general view of the massive fortifications afforded much interest to those who had not made a previous visit. But the picturesqueness of former visits--the motley crowd of Moors, Arabs, Spaniards, and Turks at the wharf--was lacking; while the venders of fruit, flowers, and laces were far less numerous, but quite as persistent, as of old.

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November 12th: The steamer Magnolia, of the P. & O. line, became our home to Port Saïd, named for the Viceroy of Egypt, who granted the concession for the building of the Suez Canal. We were at once charmed with the general arrangement of the vessel, the salons for ordinary use being large and airy; the staterooms were smaller than those of the Atlantic service, but were finely ventilated.

The passage to Marseilles, France, consumed about thirty-six hours, and the time was spent partly in planning a sight-seeing expedition to take place immediately after our arrival. The Gulf of Lyons, however, gave us a stormy reception; and, as the gale (mistral) increased, the harbor was reached. To be near a destination and yet unable to enter the port was most tantalizing!

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MARSEILLES: The approach to Marseilles is rather disappointing, as there are intervening islands of bare rocks; but later the heights appear, the Church of Notre Dame de la Garde being a prominent feature of the view.

Owing to the delay in landing, only two hours' stay on shore was granted, which was a great disappointment to many of us, but less so to me, as I had previously visited the city, and remembered the enjoyment derived from my stay there.

On our return to the steamer, a novel sight presented itself. The vessel was anchored close to the dock on which is a low embarkation shed, fronting on a wide passage-way, which was now filled with a motley group. At the back there was a fringe of color from many baskets of fruit, flowers, and plants in charge of dealers, clad in costumes of varied hues, with red shawls tied over their heads. Each hawker was intent on extracting coins from the interested spectators, who hung over the side of the steamer. In the foreground were acrobats of every description, dressed in all the colors of the rainbow; among them was a group of five musicians of tender years, an acrobat in pink tights who was exploiting the skill of his little daughter, scarcely five years of age, and another similarly cruel father, who was compelling a little girl to go through all manner of contortions. There was also a group of little girl dancers. This picturesque but painful sight impressed us with the necessity for the establishment here of a society for the prevention of cruelty to children.

Two hundred and fifty more passengers were added to the steamer list at Marseilles, and henceforth the vessel was to be taxed to her utmost capacity. Most of the passengers were en route for a five weeks' voyage to Australia, many of them were friends, and a general spirit of jollity prevailed, the decks presenting the appearance of a seaside veranda, with their tables, lounging-chairs, work-baskets, and toys. A "sports" committee was at once formed, and games of all kinds were played (always for prizes), while a concert, dances, and bridge enlivened the evening hours.

On the night of November 17th we passed the volcano of Stromboli (now inactive), our steamer gliding between it on one side and the isles of Pina on the other; some hours later the Straits of Messina were reached; while, farther on, the island of Candida was passed. A church service was held aboard both morning and evening (the latter in the second-class salon), this being the invariable rule on English steamers.

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PORT SAÏD, November 20th: As we approached Port Saïd, everything was at first shadowy--the lighthouse, a group of palms, and a minaret seeming to rise out of the sea. There were a few points of land called Damietta, but all else was flat. At last we steamed into the harbor, anchoring at the mouth of the Suez Canal, and were taken ashore in a launch amidst a confused yelling of voices,--indeed a perfect Babel.

With only three or four hours in Port Saïd, there was little time for a close survey, but we walked through some of the streets, called at a few shops of no special interest, and had afternoon tea at one of the hotels, to the accompaniment of music furnished by native musicians. We had always heard Port Saïd spoken of as "the wickedest place in the world," and we commented on the apparent absence of such a condition; but we were assured by one of the tourists that wickedness did exist, and we accepted the statement without an attempt to verify it.

Port Saïd gains its principal importance from being the starting-point of that great waterway, the Suez Canal, of which we form our first impression from the fact that ten years' time was required for its construction and $100,000,000 were expended on the work, the payment of which impoverished Egypt and was one of the causes that led to the protectorate of England. This is said to be a humiliating condition to all true Egyptians.

The monument at Port Saïd, raised in honor of Ferdinand de Lesseps, as the founder of the enterprise, emphasizes France's contribution to the project.

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CAIRO, November 20th: A late train to Cairo caused us to arrive near midnight, an inopportune time for first impressions, but the memory of a former visit caused a pleasant anticipation of scenes to be revisited. A week, however, was too short a time in which to cover the ground, but by persistent effort on our part much was accomplished.

Having headquarters at Shepheard's Hotel--with its foreign arrangement of rooms and furnishings, together with its gayly attired attendants, many of them costumed in red, yellow, green, or blue silk trimmed with gilt, and wearing silk turbans to match--gave us at once an Oriental environment. The central location of the building, with the opportunity, also, which the wide terrace afforded guests for making observations, offered us an immediate insight into the unique life of the city. The venders of fruit, flowers, postal cards, and souvenirs formed a foreground of many colors, while beyond was an unceasing flow of motley carriages, native vehicles, carts, donkeys, and camels, and sometimes two resplendent outriders (called "Sikhs"), on fine chargers, heralded the approach of some dignitary,--a custom which is, however, dying out.

The most novel sight which came to our notice was a wedding procession, the bride being ever carefully concealed by silken curtains thrown over either a carriage or a peculiarly constructed litter borne by two camels, one at the front and one at the back; a band of music preceded, followed by vehicles of many different kinds containing members of the bridal party, all en route for the bride's home.

It must be remembered that Cairo, while in one sense a modern city, presents many clearly defined mediæval phases; this is particularly true throughout its native quarters, as exemplified in streets and bazars in the vicinity of the Nile, and in its old-time mosques; in this connection I would emphasize the bazars, both Turkish and Arabic. Some of the old irregular thoroughfares on which the bazars are situated radiate from the wider and more important Muski; then, again, there are narrower alley-like streets, a veritable tangle! The bazars everywhere are similarly constructed, but vary in size and importance; they are box-like in form, from four to six feet in width, and six to eight feet in height, and are raised one or two feet from the ground, with three sides enclosed and the fourth open to the street by day, but at night closed, the fourth wall sliding into place like a folding door.

Here is usually to be found, for a certain distance, but one kind of goods, be it slippers, brass-work, or embroideries, alternating with eatables, fruit, pipes, and the like, there being no attempt at classification. Woe be to the unwary who approach these bazars without the ability to "bargain"; for there is ever a scale of prices, and the topmost one is usually exorbitant!

Within the open space of his shop sits the dealer, ready for the contest, sometimes complacently sipping his coffee, or smoking a cigarette, the long Turkish pipes having been largely abolished. The courtesy of coffee or a cigarette is often extended to the purchaser, which possesses a mollifying effect if the discussion over a purchase has waxed high.

It is said that the scenes in the Turkish bazars on a fête day are like a picture from the "Arabian Nights," the places being illuminated by many candles or chandeliers, and covered by awnings formed of rich shawls, scarfs, and embroideries brought from the interior. This gives each bazar the appearance of a reception room, with the dealer seated within, dispensing hospitality, every one being dressed in holiday attire. The bazars in Cairo are considered an important feature of the life of the city (as they are in every place throughout the Eastern or Western Orient), but they are less attractive than those I visited in Tunis, Constantinople, or Damascus.

The crowd that is passing the shops often proves more interesting than the display within, as there are natives of all ages and descriptions, Arabs, Bedouins, Turks, and Egyptians, some mounted on donkeys and some driving heavily laden camels. Water-carriers with jars, mostly women, are among them, while the natives usually carry under the arm the characteristic pigskin, filled with water. These are the sights to be seen, together with the venders of fruit and vegetables, alternating with richly equipped carriages, and funeral or bridal processions. Men and women in their Oriental dress jostle the crowd of sight-seers who ever throng these ways.

In these, but more often in a better class of streets, we pass the lovely meshrebîya windows, with their intricate turned lattice-work designs; they are very frequently oblong projecting windows, but instead of glass there is used the fine tracery or lattice-work in wood. Sad to relate, this fine work is sharing in the general decay to be found in the old quarters of Cairo, and, in a few years, the tourist will only be able to view the specimens even now being sent to the Arabian Museum, which institution is, by the way, doing a splendid work in preserving and classifying all artistic remains, notably those from the crumbling mosques.

Except in the matter of decay, I found little change in the native portion of the city since my visit in 1898; but the aspect of the city proper has grown modern. Fine new streets, public buildings and residences, are seen everywhere in the Ezbekieh and Ismailian quarters of the city, while certain sections suggest a European capital. The Ezbekieh Gardens, opposite the Continental Hotel, form really a small park in the centre of the city, and are a great resort for tourists as well as residents.

The Ismailian is the fashionable quarter of the city, and it is said that many wealthy citizens have left their former luxurious native homes for a modern residence in the new section. Hence many dealers in the bazars have secured the deserted Oriental homes, and now live in comparative luxury, showing that conditions and residential centres change in the Old World as well as in the New.

But note how much more attractive the original home must appear to native eyes. A passage leads from the street to a spacious court, and grouped around the court, which usually has a fountain in the centre (with sometimes one or two trees), are the rooms for general use and those assigned to guests. The apartments occupied by the women of the family, commonly called the harem, are not visible, but are generally spacious and well furnished, even luxuriously appointed, with inlaid floors, decorated walls, and rich rugs. The light filters through either meshrebîya or flat latticed windows, for no profane eye can gaze on the supposed loveliness of damsel and dame, nor can they, in their turn, gaze outward for any distance, which shows the restricted social condition of the women.