X
CAIRO
I need not have been afraid that the charms of Constantinople would
spoil Cairo for me, although at first I was disappointed. Most places
have to be lived up to, especially one like Cairo, whose attractions
are vaunted by every tourist, every woman of fashion, every scholar,
every idle club-man, everybody, either with brains or without. I
wondered how it _could_ be all things to all men. I simply thought it
was the fashion to rave about it, and I was sick of the very sound of
its name before I came. It was too perfect. It aroused the spirit of
antagonism in me.
First of all, when you arrive in Cairo you find that it is very, very
fashionable. You can get everything here, and yet it is practically
the end of the world. Nearly everybody who comes here turns around and
goes back. Few go on. Even when you go up the Nile you must come back
to Cairo. There is really nowhere else to go.
You drive through smart English streets, and when you find yourself at
Shepheard's you are at the most famous hotel in the world; yet,
strange to say, in spite of its size, in spite of the thousands of
learned, famous, titled, and distinguished people who have been here,
in spite of its smartness and fashion, it is the most homelike hotel I
ever was in.
Pages:
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237