“Man fears time, yet time fears the pyramids,” says postcard after postcard. How surreal to have flown in, driven through the teeming traffic of the modern city of Cairo, then fall onto my bed in Giza to admire these mystic structures I’ve long dreamed of seeing.

I traveled on a customized, 10-day itinerary with MISR Travel, the official travel agency of the government. Everything was first class (five-star hotels, Mercedes buses, a five-star cruise ship); the guides were uniformly good and staffers met us at every airport and transfer point.

Cairo
Shaped by both Arab and European influences and the awe-inspiring majesty of the world’s mightiest ancient civilization, Egypt is unlike anywhere else on earth. Beginning in Cairo, I tour the Great Pyramids in a sandstorm; not ideal, but still heart stopping in their grandeur. School kids, both boys and girls, giggle, great you, practicing their English by inquiring your name and telling you theirs and pose for pictures. Beyond the mythic, monolithic structures, it is the people that make a trip most memorable in my mind.

I marvel over the collection of treasures, including those from the tomb of Tutankamun, at the Egyptian Antiquities Museum. The mummy room was perhaps most impactful, with its shrunken skeletons of such notables as Ramses II, with perfectly preserved teeth. No wonder the place is swarmed from 8 a.m. until 5 p.m. After picking up a shawarma sandwich, delicious grilled lamb or chicken tucked into a pita and topped with yogurt, offered by street vendors (no, I never got sick), I visit Khan-el-Khalili Bazaar, which first opened for business in 1382. Everything from perfumes to spices, leather goods to clothing, brassware to rugs, is sold in the narrow lanes here. I recharge at a water pipe café tucked in an alley, with a glass of hibiscus tea and a few puffs of apple-scented tobacco (or mango or Coca-Cola, if you rather) on the shisha.

Haggling for souvenirs is part of the experience, so I bargain and buy a few items to take home. I cap off the day with a meal at the Shepheard’s Hotel, built in the 1950s and overlooking the Nile, where a scene from the English Patient was filmed.

Luxor and Temple of Karnak
The next morning I fly to Luxor to board the cruiser, Oberoi Shehrayar, home for the next four days and three nights. Seventy-five male staffers attend to guests in 41 rooms as we traverse a section of the world’s longest river, stopping along the way to comb its most famed locales. Luxor has been spoiled with the country’s richest concentration of fascinating sites; the tombs of the greatest of all the Pharaohs, queens, princes and princesses are buried in this arid land.

Our group of 24 toured the West Bank of the Nile: The Valley of the Kings, Valley of the Queens and the Temple of Hatshepsut, the first queen to rule Egypt. The reliefs and frescoes astound me with their detail, their color. The scale is so enormous, the drawings in the tomb so numerous and intricate, you are overwhelmed. I keep pinching myself, not believing where I am, what I am seeing.

At sunset, we reached The Temple of Luxor, smack in the middle of town, which lay buried beneath the ancient village until archeological excavations began in the 19th century. An avenue of small sphinxes and two gigantic statues of Ramses II mark the entrance. As the air cooled and shadows lengthened, I wandered through the temple, looking skyward at the columns, in quiet contemplation.

We overnight in Luxor and early the next morning visit the Temple of Karnak, arguably the high point of any visit to Luxor. A number of our group attended last night’s sound and light show and are anticipate seeing the world’s largest temple complex in daylight. A processional avenue of ram-headed sphinxes leads into the Great Court of the Temple of Amun. Pylon gateways with intricate and detailed cartouches and hieroglyphs lead to the Obelisk of Hatshepsut, the sight of which causes audible gasps.

Rabie, our Egyptologist, has a winning dimple, 22 years of experience and an accent that sounds oddly like a Scottish brogue. He relates the history of the many of the events depicted as we walk the ruins, trying to take it all in. Although the pace is breakneck, we are buoyed by excitement of what we are to see and by each other’s company. Then we head back to the boat and set sail for Efna.

On the Nile River
We pass the banks on either side of the fertile Nile, studded with palm trees and the occasional donkey or water ox, brown mountains rising in the background, enjoying the languid rhythm of sailing. On deck, we soak up the sun and wait to clear the lock (nearly 12 hours due to traffic on the river). But the time passes quickly.

Small boats pull up beside us and men unfurl colorful gallibehs, the long robes worn by women and men, scarves, carpets and tablecloths (Egyptian cotton is the finest in the world). Then the good-natured haggling begins. Like at an auction, if you blink or cock your head or show any interest at all, the item in question is quickly stuffed in a plastic bag and hurled onto the boat. About six of us have great fun trying on things, rejecting them, bundling them back into their plastic bags and pitching them to their merchant. Many of us buy gallibehs to wear to tonight’s costume party.

During our time together, we get to know each other. Mary, a hospital administrator from suburban Washington, D.C.; Mary Lou and Steve, a gregarious, middle-aged couple from Nashville; Stephanie, a tax attorney traveling with her best college friend, Heather, a firefighter; Nancy and Ed, retirees from Charlottesville, Virginia; Mona and Nick, Egyptians who have lived in the Midwestern U.S. for 35 years; Nick and Angela, a wholesome young couple from Kansas. Our camaraderie is fast: when I catch a cold, everyone offers something: medicine, magazines and earplugs.

And More
We disembark in Edfu, to visit the Temple of Horus, son of Osiris and Isis, where two gigantic stone falcons—the sacred birds of Horus—stand at attention. Completed in 437 B.C. this is a very well preserved temple in the town’s center. Back onboard and sated by a marvelous buffet lunch, we sail onto Kom Ombo, the sugar-farm capital of Egypt, where we tour the namesake temple, dedicated to two gods, Sobek and Haroeris.

Our final stop is Aswan, in Upper Egypt, where we will dock for the night. Several of us take an after-dinner stroll to eat ice cream and find ourselves dancing impromptu to the hip-hop of an outdoor café. We admire the horse-drawn carriages, festooned in the rear with silver amulets: the eye of Horus and hand of Fatima, said to protect you from evil spirits.

A few of us opt to fly to Abu Simbel, where colossal statues, cut free from their cliff face to avoid the rising waters of the Nile (at a cost of $40 million) have been rebuilt on higher ground against an artificial cliff. Under a cornflower blue sky, dwarfed by the figures of Ramses II and his queen, Nefertari, I am awe-struck. Rejoining the group, together we tour the High Dam, a marvel of Soviet engineering and Lake Nassar, home to Nubian villagers from Sudan and southern Egypt.

Eight of us fly onto Sharm el-Sheik, close to the southern tip of the Sinai, a destination that began to bloom under fromer Israeli occupation. With its numerous casinos, it is Egypt’s own Las Vegas but with a twist: world-class scuba diving in the Red Sea. We stay at the Marriott, which fronts the water and walk the esplanade that leads to Na’ama Bay, with its “Sinai Champs Elysses,” a pedestrian-only cobblestone street that comes alive at night with its picturesque street lamps, teahouses, shops and outdoor cafes.

Several of our group trek to St. Catherine’s Monastery, where God is said to have revealed himself to Moses as a burning bush, and Mt. Sinai, where God is said to have delivered the Ten Commandments. Instead, I plunk myself on a beach chair, buy English language newspapers and magazines from Mustafeh and chat up a British family, here for two weeks to soak up the sun.

The next day, Mary and I board a boat and head for Ras Mohammed National Park and a day of snorkeling. As the waters shade from steel blue to aqua, we admire the massive coral reefs, rich with eels, fish and stingrays. Hungry from our athletic pursuits, we have dinner outdoors at the Hilton, under swaying palms. I don’t see baba ghanoug, eggplant dip, and mention it to Mary. The manager overhears and offers to have some freshly made. In minutes, the addictive, garlicky, thick spread, accompanied by warm pita is delivered tableside—and devoured.

My final day is leisurely. I stroll the esplanade, admiring the touts their fortitude in asking our names and where we are from, as they invite us to view their wares. Mary and I, by now fast friends, have our hands tattooed with henna as a remembrance of trip, having admired several Egyptian women with the stunning designs.

Back in Cairo for a final day and night, I stay at the Nile Hilton. I meet George, a Christian (15% of the population is Christian) and an accountant, who offers to tour me around Coptic Cairo the next day. We tour church after medieval church and Ben Ezra Synagogue, the oldest in the country. We speak openly, despite our age and cultural differences, with the particular intimacy possible when two people collide by chance.

We pick up sweets at a bustling bakery, Ed Abd. We ride the metro, then the mini-bus, to visit his cousin and pregnant wife, both of whom are academicians and we have a meal of omelets, bread, cheese and strawberries rolled in sugar. Thinking back to my first day in Egypt, where I watched a wedding as an outsider, I realize I am now an insider, in a middle-class home, enjoying a meal with new friends. It’s a perfect ending to a magical trip.