A Whirlwind Through Islamic Cairo

Egypt could be a frustrating destination for independent travelers. Before our trip, we talked to many other travelers about their experiences visiting Egypt. Everyone emphasizes that it is vital to hire a guide, if not joining an organized group tour. Since we are accustomed to independent travel, hiring a guide worries me on several levels. Aside from the additional cost, I am not accustomed to relinquishing control. It was puzzling why one would need a guide in Egypt, the most visited country in Africa. Shouldn’t Egypt have already developed the tourism infrastructure after all these decades?

Talaat Harb square is the center of European Egypt.

Heeding the advice, I booked many day tours to create my custom trip through Egypt. For our first full day, I booked a private guide to tour the Islamic Cairo, which was scheduled to start at 8 am. That may sound great, but I forgot that our flight into Cairo arrived at 11 pm. We would not arrive at the hotel until probably 1 am. I decided to cancel the tour at the last minute to allow us to sleep in just an hour or two more. I figured I could do an independent day tour on our own based on the itinerary published online. How difficult could it be?

At first, the term “Islamic Cairo” seemed odd. Egypt today is approximately 90% Muslim, so shouldn’t most of Cairo be Islamic? The term actual refers to areas of Cairo built between the Muslim conquest of the 7th century and the modern expansion in the 19th century. Cairo has long been the leading city of Islam; the city’s Islamic heritage contrasts the Ancient Egyptian civilization and the Greco-Roman Cairo. In 1979, Islamic Cairo was designated as a UNESCO World Heritage Site along with many of Egypt’s blockbuster sites.

Mosque of Ibn Tulun

After a sumptuous breakfast at Steigenberger Hotel El Tahrir, we started our day at the Mosque of Ibn Tulun. Luckily, Uber is readily available and takes away the hassle of haggling. Because it was a Sunday, we avoided Cariro’s infamous traffic jam. Uber rides are criminally affordable in Cairo; the twenty-minute ride from El Tahrir Square costs us a mere 45 EGP. This was our first glimpse of Egypt in daylight. At first glance, central Cairo looked surprisingly rundown. It does not have the intensity one could expect from Africa’s biggest and wealthiest city. Before long, we were dropped off at the entrance of the mosque.

The Mosque of Ibn Tulun is located in a quiet residential neighborhood. Enclosed by an impressive wall, the mosque’s entrance was nondescript and had no clear signage. A couple of guys were hanging just outside the outer fence, and we couldn’t help feeling that we were trespassing. Upon entering the mosque, we were approached by a staff member offering us disposable booties for stepping on the carpet. I knew instantly that baksheesh was expected in this situation.

Before the trip, I read up on baksheesh, a tipping system common in Egypt for miscellaneous services, no matter how small. Because we hadn’t had the chance to exchange big bills for smaller denominations, I politely handed over a 200 EGP bill and asked whether he could break it for a smaller change. He skillfully deflected my questions and proceeded to show me around. When I asked firmly, he suddenly pretended not to understand English. I knew right there we got fleeced. What an unfortunate introduction to Cairo it was.

Nowadays, the Mosque of Ibn Tulun was not frequently used for worship.

Luckily, I did not let the ‘incident’ bother me. 200 EGP meant a lot more to him than to us at the end of the day. This mosque is often regarded as Egypt’s oldest and largest mosque that still survived in its original form. Ahmad, the founder of the Tulunid dynasty, commissioned the mosque in the late 9th century, and it took only three years to finish. According to some, the hill where the mosque was built was believed to be where Noak’s Ark settled at the end of the flood. The mosque was meant to be the showpiece of his gleaming new capital.

The first thing that impressed us was the mosque’s sheer size. The central courtyard was large enough to cost thousands of worshipers. This is a classic congregational mosque (or Friday’s mosque), hosting the Friday noon prayers called Jumu'ah. Traditionally, there was only one congregational church in a city, thus making it one of the largest public spaces in medieval Cario. In its heyday, the wall with the mihrab was once connected to the royal palace. This mosque was the inner sanctum of medieval Cairo.

Although the architectural decorations here are relatively understated by Islamic standards, Ibn Tulun still has plenty of intricate details if you look closely. It was shocking that so many survived for nearly 1150 years. Considering how much Cairo has changed in just the last two hundred years, it is almost a miracle that such a big mosque was not rebuilt in a later style. The vast expanse of the courtyard and the limited numbers of tourists made this a place of melancholy.

At the center of the courtyard is a massive pavilion called Shadirvan. Also known as the absolution fountain, the pavilion houses a central ritual fountain. When the mosque declined a few centuries after its completion, the whole complex was converted into a shelter for African pilgrims on the way to Mecca. The central fountain became the place to wash up after a long journey. The dome we see today was from the 13th century, and it looks awfully like Chahartaq, an iconic element of Persian architecture.

As beautiful as Shadirvan is, the architectural highlight would be the minaret. Featuring a helical exterior staircase, the minaret reminded me of the Tower of Babel and the Great Mosque of Samarra in Iraq. According to the legend, the unique configuration was ‘accidentally‘ designed by Sultan Ibn Tulun himself. This distinctive design is unique to Cario and Egypt. I was immediately intrigued when I saw pictures online of visitors climbing up the minaret. Climbing church towers may be normal, but few minarets are open to casual tourists.

The minaret’s exterior spiral staircase is the most celebrated feature of this mosque.

To my disappointment, the doorway to the minaret was locked. As we were ready to leave, the staff member who took 200 EGP from me suddenly started talking to us again. As if he could read my mind, he asked whether we might be interested in climbing the minaret. He told us the views from the minaret are magnificent and the best views of Cario. He said all that while having one hand open and gesturing for additional baksheesh. I debated hard whether it would be worth it; I was not planning to give him another big bill.

I soon realized I shouldn’t let that small amount of money deter me. Ultimately, I have already spent over a thousand dollars to get here. Why worry about a few dollars now? After bargaining, we agreed on a baksheesh of three dollars for Brain and me. I was excited for the guy to open a locked door and shepherd us through the secret passageway. Instead, he told us to exit through the main and turn to the left. Wait… that was it? I would have found our way there on our own eventually.

My little frustration aside, climbing the minaret was the highlight of our visit. The experience reminded us of the ascending spire of the Church of Our Saviour in Copenhagen, albeit far less scary. The panoramic views were indeed magnificent. At first glance, Cairo’s modern skyline may be chaotic. The modern sprawl of this metropolis looks intimidating, but Cairo does live up to its reputation as a “city of a thousand minarets.” Not far in the distance, we could see the Citadel of Saladin and the Muhammad Ali Mosque, our next stop for the day.

Gayer-Anderson Museum

According to my Moon Egypt Guidebook, the Gayer-Anderson Museum is one of the best museums for first-time visitors to Cairo. This neat little house museum is attached to the southeastern wall of the Mosque of Ibn Tulun. It is perhaps the best ethnographic house museum in Cario and a popular spot for foreign visitors. The museum comprises two separate houses with an enclosed bridge connecting on the third level. They were beautifully restored and exemplify the domestic architecture of the 16th- and 17th-century Cairo. It was well worth the 60 EPG admission fee. According to a pamphlet taped next to the ticket office, a free guided tour was available upon request. Of course, baksheesh would be expected.

So why the name Gayer-Anderson Museum? The two houses were once the home of Robert Grenville Gayer-Anderson, an Ireland-born British army officer who served in the colonial armed offices in Egypt. Even though he was trained in medicine, he became incredibly knowledgeable in Egyptian culture and antiquity while traveling with the army. He was eventually appointed Oriental Secretary to the High Commission, in charge of antiquity management. Even after the Egyptian independence, he was retained as a special advisor and even took the new king on tours around Egypt.

Because of his connections, he could negotiate the lifelong lease of these two houses. The houses are filled with items he collected throughout his career. The buildings were meticulously restored to showcase the vernacular architecture. When he eventually returned to England in 1942, he donated the property, including all the contents, to the Egyptian government. The popularity of the museum today is obvious. We saw several Egyptian student groups coming through the museum during our visit.

The photography collection of Robert Grenville Gayer-Anderson.

The two buildings may look modest on the exterior, but there is no question these are mansions for the wealthy. One belonged to a wealthy Greek woman from Crete, earning the name "House of the Cretan Woman.” Both houses are organized around a central courtyard with a loggia one floor up. The setup reminded me of palazzos in Rome. There are many legends associated with this place. As mentioned earlier, some believe this is where Noah’s ark landed. Some went even further by claiming that the last bit of biblical flood water was drained through the hole in the middle of the central courtyard. That specificity was a little far fetch by any standard.

The museum retains numerous original features, such as the water cistern (sabil) under the main study room. But the most impressive room is the double-height “celebration room,” which has several upper-level viewing boxes for women to spy on male visitors. This being Egypt, most staff members were eager to show visitors around, particularly hidden compartments and oddities, for a bit of baksheesh. While some of the stuff they showed us was genuinely interesting, some pointed at the obvious…. like reciting the plaques we could read independently. It was a little uncomfortable having them follow us around; it was even worse that they disappeared right after they received their baksheesh. It certainly felt transactional.

Funny enough, the most exciting information we received was that one of the 007 James Bond films was shot here. The 1977 movie The Spy Who Loved Me was shot in the grand room and on the museum rooftop. I have never watched a single James Bond film, so I can’t say I was particularly impressed. It was not until I returned home and checked out the footage that I could appreciate the beauty of this spot. Amazingly, today’s Cairo does not look that different from fifty years ago. I honestly don’t know whether this is a dig or a compliment.

There are two separate sections on the roof terrace. The screened sections were designed for female household members when there were outside visitors. The intricately carved screen was stunning. The most fantastic feature here was outdoor dumbwaiters, where goods could be lifted from the street level. I bet many New Yorkers wish they had this setup in their apartment to take their DoorDash delivery. The roof terrace here also has a beautiful view of the Mosque of Ibn Tulun. I could understand why the director chose this spot for the movie.

This is the spot where James Bond killed his assassin.

Objectively speaking, this is probably the best house museum I have been to in the past few years. Many of the rooms are themed to reflect the collected items within. There were rooms dedicated to ancient Egypt, Persia, China, and Damascus. But the oddest one by far would be the Queen Anne Room, which includes numerous overstuffed furniture. As odd as it was, these rooms gave us a wonderful overview of various cultures that left a mark on Egyptian society today.

Sultan Hasan Mosque & Al-Rifa'i Mosque

It was fifteen minutes from the museum to the Mosque of Sultan Hasan, so it seemed silly to get there by Uber. The walk took us through a workaday neighborhood. The area was comparatively rundown, but it gave us a close-up of Egyptian life. The locals seemed surprised to see foreigners in their neighborhood, and we stuck out like a sore thumb. Masked behind the urban decay are many handsome colonial buildings with intricate ornamentation. I could only hope these buildings can stand up to the attrition of time.

A beautiful snapshot of authentic Cairo.

According to most, this mosque is allegedly the most impressive in Cairo. Because of Its sheer size and configuration, the mosque looks like a massive fortress from afar. Like a castle, the entire perimeter is fenced off, so it took us quite some time to find the entrance at Salah al-Din Square. Upon closer examination, there are two separate mosques: Sultan Hasan Mosque and Al-Rifa'i Mosque. At first glance, the two mosques look like a mirror image. It turns out that one is more than five hundred years older than the other.

I was surprised there is an admission charge to visit these working mosques. Charging money to visit a religious site seems wrong, but I appreciate the reassurance that tourists are welcomed here. Luckily, I came prepared this time and had plenty of 5 EGP bills for baksheesh. Immediately right of the entrance is the Al-Rifa'i Mosque. Completed in 1912, this mosque was conceived as the royal mausoleum of the Muhammad Ali dynasty, which ruled Egypt for over two centuries until the abolition of monarchy in 1953. The place reminded me just how little we knew about Egypt’s recent history.

Unlike other places we visited in the Arabic world, Egypt seems relatively relaxed when opening a working mosque to non-Muslim visitors. While we have been to great mosques like Muscat’s Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque and Istanbul’s Suleymaniye Mosque, this experience felt more ‘authentic’ for whatever reasons. The main prayer hall may not have the best architectural lighting, but it does not diminish its splendors. As usual, the mihrab and minbar are the most elaborate elements in the building. However, I am always surprised by how small the mihrab is compared to a Christian altar.

Although this is technically a royal mausoleum, the most celebrated burial here nowadays is Ali Abu Shubbak, a saint of the Rifa’i order. As a Ahl al-Bayt, he was held in high esteem in Islam. His tomb has since become an important pilgrimage destination. Just off the prayer hall is a square room holding his tomb. Much like the ambulatory of a Christian church, pilgrims could walk around the tomb and peek into the tomb. Around the room were many devoted pilgrims of both genders praying on all four. This was only my second time visiting a Muslim mausoleum, and I did feel as if I was trespassing. Fair or not, mosques and synagogues are generally less accessible. While I did not feel uncomfortable, I felt obligated to behave more conservatively here, including not taking too many photos. Thankfully, a few kittens were there, lightening up the mood in this holy space.

Arabic calligraphy is endlessly mesmerizing.

Even though this was one of Cairo’s major mosques, we saw very few tourists. A large mosque section had little to no light source; it added a sense of mystery and adventure. It was not long until an older gentleman waved us over and gave us a little tour of the royal tombs. I knew quite immediately that this was another attempt for baksheesh. I decided to go along with it just for the fun of it. He led to two chambers and pointed out a handful of grandiose tombs. I could not quite understand him as he ran through the names of each tomb. All I remember now is that gender disparity is universal across cultures and time.

Although I did not learn much from our unique ‘guide,’ we did manage to identify a couple of the most important tombs in the mosque. For obvious reasons, most of the tombs here were from the Muhammad Ali dynasty. The one that caught our eyes was that of King Farouk I. He reigned as the King of Egypt for sixteen years and was Egypt's last de facto monarch. He was overthrown and exiled to Switzerland in 1952. He was widely unpopular because of his decadent lifestyle and corruption. Unfortunately, his ostentatious style did not exactly translate to his tomb. Given his status as a disposed monarch, he probably shouldn’t expect much.

Personally, the most exciting tomb here would probably be the resting place of Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, the last Shah of Iran. His downfalls and the ensuing Islamic revolution in the 1970s loomed large in the American national psyche. Like King Farouk I, he was overthrown partly for his extravagant lifestyle and being out of touch with his subjects. One could only imagine how different the world order would be if he managed to hang on to the throne and maintained an American-friendly posture. Honestly, I did not recognize the tomb at first. The curious-looking flag behind the tomb looked eerily familiar. It took me a while to recognize it as the imperial flag of Persia and the historical significance of this tomb. So why was the Shah buried in Cairo? It turned out he was married to the sister of King Farouk I.

At last, we were ready to head across the entrance causeway to visit the Sultan Hasan Mosque. As the name suggests, this was a personal project of Sultan al-Nasir Hasan, who ruled Egypt for parts of the 14th century. Ascending to the throne at twelve, he was overthrown less than four years later. Remarkably, he regained his throne at twenty-one. During his reign, he became a patron of Muslim scholars. His greatest legacy was the construction of this mosque and the attached madrasa. Not only was this a center of Islamic teaching for centuries, but it was also the most ambitious building project in medieval Cairo.

The construction was highly controversial, as the sultanate suffered from devasting bubonic plagues. Despite political instabilities and the pandemic, the construction carried on with furious speed and was completed in just seven years, which was a remarkable engineering feat. Many scholars have speculated how the young sultan managed to fund this extravagant project. Some suggest the project was largely financed by confiscating properties of the plague victims. There was even a rumor that the sultan discovered a vast gold deposit on this site.

Sadly, the sultan was assassinated at the age of twenty-seven, two years before the mosque’s completion. Given his young age and exceptionally short tenure, this stone edifice was a miracle. Because the structure was so well-built and sturdy, the mosque was used as a fortress for whoever was staging a siege for the nearby citadel. As a result, several sultans contemplated the mosque as a matter of security. One sultan, Al-Ashraf Janbalat, eventually ordered the demolition but gave up after three days due to the amount of manpower required.

A large central courtyard and four enormous monumental niches, called iwans, are in the middle of the complex. It was unlikely other mosques I had visited thus far. The scale and proportion of the space are awe-inspiring. The arrangement reminded me of the Registan, the grand madrasa in Samarkand, Uzbekistan. Relatively modest ornamentation made this an incredibly modern space; the low-hanging pendants were particularly striking. The one larger iwans houses the quibla and faces the direction toward the Mecca. The multi-color inlaid stone and brass accent of this particular mihrab was stunning.

The mausoleum chamber inside the Sultan Hasan Mosque.

Interestingly, the madrasa is often more impressive than your typical mosque. Radiating from the central courtyard are four different quadrants, each allegedly devoted to teaching one of Sunni Islam's four leading schools of thought. However, the majority of the madrasa was closed off during our visit. Just behind the quibla was a mausoleum, originally reserved for Sultan Hasan. The room is sumptuously decorated with muqarnas vaults. However, Sultan Hasan’s body was never found after his assassination.

Al-Mu'izz Street & Khan el-Khalili

As we exited the Madrasa of Sultan Hasan, the weather had turned for the worse. While the weather app still indicated the condition as ‘mostly sunny,’ the sky above us was utterly overcast with no hint of blue. I was caught entirely off-guard that it was already 2 pm, and we were starving. Oddly, there aren’t many eating options in and around the Sultan Hasan Mosque, let alone tourist-friendly restaurants. Given my limited knowledge of Cairo, I knew the main tourist area, Al-Mu'izz Street, which was twenty minutes away.

Al-Mu'izz Street is a major thoroughfare of medieval Cairo and one of the oldest streets. This street runs north-south, connecting the two historic gates of the walled city. Our Uber dropped us in front of Bab al-Futuh, and we were immediately charmed by the historical ambiance here. The entire area was meticulously restored in 1997 to become a de facto open-air museum. Although some modern buildings are still along the street, they are understated and sensitive to the historical context.

In 2008, the street was pedestrianized. Walking Al-Mu'izz Street was a great respite from the chaos and noise of Cairo’s traffic. This is easily the most pleasant quarter of Cairo from a visitor’s point of view. However, we were surprised by just how few restaurants there were. A few places we found were either closed or pre-booked. I can’t help wondering whether that was the popularity of group/guided tours in Egypt. Luckily, we found Cafe & Restaurant - Tekiyt Khan Khatun; their spectacular rooftop overlooks the Al-Azhar Mosque, and there were plenty of “authentic” cultural performances.

Rooftop dining at Cafe & Restaurant - Tekiyt Khan Khatun.

While this is undoubtedly a tourist restaurant, most guests seemed to be Arabic speakers. This was our first Egyptian meal, and we were excited to discover how Egyptian food might differ from its Arab neighbors. At first glance, the menu looks relatively pan-Arabic. But thankfully, we have already booked a food tour that evening. I guess we just had to wait a few more hours. It was already half past three when we finished our lunch. We only had a little more than an hour before the sunset. The dreary weather also did not put us in the best mood for aggressive sightseeing.

The ticket windows for various historical sites on Al-Mu'izz Street.x

Many proclaim that Al-Mu'izz Street has the highest concentration of medieval Islamic culture. While I don’t know how they could calculate that, the collection of historical buildings is impressive. The narrow street is fronted by countless impressive structures ranging from mosques, palaces, hammams, madrasas, and souks. Many, if not all of them, are open to visitors. Quite a few share the same admission ticket, which could be purchased from a non-descript window just south of Al-Azhar Mosque. Sadly, most of them close at five, so it wouldn’t make sense for us. I suppose this would be another reason for a return visit to Cairo.

Since we did not bother with any particular cultural site, we used the street as a convenient sightseeing route. Much to our surprise, many businesses were closed, especially on Sunday. Considering this is one of the main touristy areas of Cairo, I could not help wondering if this was linked to the drop in tourism after the outbreak of the Israel-Gaza war in October. I posed that question to our guide a few days later; he speculated that certain shops tend to close the day of the week. I have no idea whether this was true, but I can’t help feeling the whole area seemed semi-deserted.

Since so many outlets were closed, Khan el-Khalili was the best place to be. Situated on the southern end of Al-Mu'izz Street, this is Egypt’s largest souk and once a gathering point of the merchant caravan. Since then, it Has always been a center of trade and traditional craftsmen. With the proliferation of modern commerce, the souk today is for sure geared toward tourism. The market reminds me a little of Marrakesh, albeit on a much smaller scale. Overall, the merchandise offered here was similar but certainly not as impressive. I now understand why other travelers speak highly of Marrakesh as a shopping destination.

The Sabil of Tusun Pasha, dated to 1820.

Although the shopping was not all that impressive, the vendors here were not as aggressive as I imagined. Before this trip, I read that Egyptian merchants are among the most persistent worldwide. It was almost as if they gave up on the sales pitch because of the lack of visitors. Overall, we were a little disappointed with Khan el-Khalili. Perhaps we were just not in the shopping mood. However, I wish we had tried to find the famous Bab al-Badistan, a 16th-century gate on the cover of my guidebook. I think this gate may be the most photographed landmark in medieval Cairo.

As pedestrian-friendly as Al-Mu'izz Street may be, it all came to a halt by a busy expressway. It was clear that historic Cairo was not immune from the savage of urban renewal. A steel barrier along the central barrier prevented everybody from crossing. There was no crosswalk, overpass, or underpass. The only way to get across was to slip through a broken barrier section while the heavy traffic whizzed by us. It was unbelievable the city had not come up with a better way to get across safely.

To add insult to injury, right on the expressway is the Sultan al-Ghuri Complex, one of the most iconic public spaces in Cairo. The complex comprises the sultan’s mausoleum and the Islamic school. Linking the two is a semi-outdoor plaza sheltered by a massive wooden canopy supported by a series of diagonal bracing. This unusual architectural composition heen

Around five o'clock, we felt we were hitting the mental limit for sightseeing. Instead of pushing ourselves further, we thought saving the rest for the next visit was better. For the first time in all my years of travel, I genuinely looked forward to spending a few hours by the hotel pool. I felt content with how much we saw on the first day, but I am still slightly disappointed that we missed important Islamic sites, such as the Citadel of Saladin, the seat of power of numerous Egyptian rulers. I could not believe most people only recommend a few days in Cairo. After all, this is an ancient city of ten million inhabitants. We look forward to a return visit.

▲

Mosque of Ibn Tulun

Gayer-Anderson Museum

Sultan Hasan Mosque & Al-Rifa'i Mosque

Al-Mu'izz Street & Khan el-Khalili

Foods of Cairo’s Backstreets

The Rise & Fall of Antigua Guatemala