Camels, what is not to love about camels. From their tiny ears to their toes (yeah, I went there) to how they scream profanity when asked to do anything. I freaking love camels.
After our pyramid visits, it was time to visit the camel camp at the back of the Giza Plateau. We arrived, and they were everywhere, lying down eating. I think I was a camel in a former life; I can relate to that.
I was introduced to my camel, Micky Mouse; I renamed him Bob. I looked at him; he looked at me and screamed. I was helped up onto his back, despite the horror he expressed at carrying yet another tourist in the sand. Finally, he stood up, and we were off.
As we walked along, I noticed Bob had his body shaved. Camels are used to the heat, so I pondered this for a while. Why? Could it be fleas? Then a little quote popped into my brain: “may you be infected with the fleas of a thousand camels.” Great, this thing probably has fleas.
I had visions of riding the camel, out in the desert, with a pack of other camel riders. I had such romantic visions in my head. Laura and I were going to ride our camels’ side by side, look at the pyramids and sand while chatting about the kings and pharaohs of old. But, yeah, that did not happen. Instead, we were led single file through the desert with plastic bags and water bottles along the path. It was a bit of a buzzkill.
Our camel leaders were busy playing on phones, ignoring the spectacular view off in the distance. I thought there would be snakes, scorpions, and cactus out there: Nope, just sand and plastics. I wondered to myself, is the trashcan not invented yet in Cairo, or do they just not use them? After four or five bottles, you stop seeing them.
We arrived at the end of the path, and it was worth it; all the pyramids lined up, and it was amazing. Our little leader guys took photos of us together, separate, acting normal, acting silly; they had a routine down and stuck to the script. It was fun.
We returned to camel camp, and poor Bob screamed bloody murder while he lay down for me to get off his back. I would think he would be happy about it. He finally got to lay down with the other camels and eat dried grass. I patted him, and we parted ways. I wish I were a camel.
Finally, the “ride the camel in Cairo” was checked off my bucket list.