... as I come to the end of my notes from my Egypt Journal. Read on as I visit the Coptic churches and finally take the plane home ...
FINAL TOUR
Breakfast and then the final tour of the holiday: the Coptic churches of old Cairo and a bus to Misr al - Qadimah in the old quarter of the city. Some fascinating and early orthodox Christian monuments, along with the remains of the fortress of Babylon and other leftover medieval structures. The Coptic Museum is a beautiful eastern building with large, wide doorways, high ceilings and windows covered with arabesque woodwork. Inside the rooms have been constructed in order to precisely fit the carved wooden porticos, ceilings and pillars that have been removed from local coptic houses in order to preserve them. The decoration is rich and colourful and highly detailed. All very interesting, but it's the next stop that I'm eager to get to.
Back to the coach and a trip to see the production of pots from local clay. The coach threaded its way through the local market. It was a hive of industry and trade. There were animals and carts, traffic and people everywhere.
Eventually, the coach drew up at the end of a street across from a large building with row upon row of terracotta pots of all shapes and sizes. A short walk took us from the bus to the centre of the area.
The site was a mass of mud brick huts of various sizes, some were the kilns to bake the clay and some were the workshops and some were the houses of the families who lived here. There were large slurry pits containing the clay needed to make the pots. The clay was scooped out of the pits with large buckets and then it was piled into a corner of one of the workshops. Chunks were cut from it as required. Children were the custodians of the clay and used either their hands or feet to separate a piece large enough for the adults to work on. The clay was thrown on a turntable that was powered by the potters feet. Each pot was then stacked on the floor to dry, which would take about 2 or 3 days. Then the dry pots were put into the kiln. Each kiln was a beehive-shaped building made of mud brick. There was an extension at the back with a pit underneath to hold the fire. Every inch of space in the kiln was filled by a pot of one size or another and then the front of the kiln was sealed with more mud bricks. The fire was made from sun dried cane leaves and maize leaves. These were piled in numerous spots throughout the area. The fire was fed constantly for about a week and then it was left for another 5 to 7 days to die and cool. When the kiln was cool the mud bricks were removed and the pots left in the sun for a while before being sold. This is pharaonic production in a modern century. Take away the potter's modern watch, and you could have slipped through time for more than two thousand years...
TRAVELLERS HOMEWARD BOUND
At five-forty-five, I got up to find the Nile swathed in a thin fog. The sun was a golden-red disk just above the horizon. I dressed, put the last few items in the suitcase, and left it in the hallway for the porters to collect. I had a quick breakfast, and then I went down to the foyer to take the coach to the airport.
The city looked grey and empty as we drove through it, and for the first time since arriving, I realised that it was quiet. There were no car horns or engines—only the early morning call to prayer. It was cool, and I detected a distinct sharpness in the air.
The plane was almost empty. Our party provided the majority of the passengers. Having taken off, I was able to occupy an empty window seat. I watched the ground below us change from urban grey to dusky green to sandy yellow. Eventually, the sandy yellow gave way to the white surf and the bright blue Mediterranean. And Egypt was gone...
... just after leaving London by train, it started to rain. As the first drops appeared on the windows, I remember being amazed and feeling gratified by the sight. Living here in the UK, I don't think I have ever been so happy to see rain as I was that day.
