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The Romance of Egypt
by Mark Antoine
Perhaps we must first understand romance. The term may vary
between individuals and couples, as well as between men and women.
Horse Drawn Carriage in Aswan
It seems to be a term evolved around an easy, relaxing evening.
Settings seem important. They may be as simple as a warm fireplace
or as bold as the view of a grand mountain range, the beauty of a
river valley or a lazy ocean voyage. It is a time when two people
talk and the words hang with comfort and understanding; it is a
time of warmth and a time of heartfelt emotions. Nothing said is
wrong, no thoughts misunderstood. It is also so often a time of
anticipation and quiet excitement.
Egypt’s Romance
Atop Mount Sinai at Dawn
Egypt has always invoked a feeling of the exotic, of mystery
and even intrigue. Excitement stirs the night with anticipation of
tomorrow’s discoveries. The Nile river seems to pass as does
time, slowly witnessing the progress of mankind. Gazing upon the
grand Nile for the first time washes most people in emotion.
Suddenly, one actually feels history. It is a sensation like no
other, a feeling of quiet knowledge.
 And in the
doing, mature couples find new fascinations to fill their lives,
and young ones build memories of joy to edge against a future
rainy day.
Even as the aroma of Egypt’s exotic atmosphere surrounds you,
there is comfort. Sleek riverboats ply the Nile river providing
five star amenities. More intimate with the water slowly drifting
by then an ocean liner, imagine drifting south, as lights from the
nearby shore glimmer. Grand resorts are everywhere, and the
variety of restaurants is simply amazing. Nothing can surpass
sitting at the Mena House having drinks with your love while
gazing upon the great pyramid. Nowhere else on earth may one have
dinner on a slow moving boat upon the river that spawned
civilization while the lights of one of the worlds great cities
drifts by.
Egypt's Own Love Boat
Egypt has most always been a land of romance. Unfortunately,
many visitors become so serious about seeing every monument and
museum that they can fit into their short schedules, they forget
to enjoy Egypt’s romantic allure. But Cleopatra didn’t forget,
though she is only one of many ladies whose charm was made
brilliant by the starlit desert nights and the sparkling flow of
the Nile. Countless pharaohs built grand temples and tombs for
their beloved queens. Ramses build a temple for his queen at Abu
Simbel, while Nefertari’s tomb is as grand, or more than most
rulers. And the loving portrait of Tutunkhamun and his queen is
literally one of the symbols of Egypt in her antiquity.
Cairo Skyline at Night
But in the colonial period English women lost their hearts to
tour guides, and of course, one contemporary Princess to an
Egyptian businessman. And we must not forget the men. While Omar
Shariff is said not to be the lady’s man cinema made him out to
be, that did not prevent women from around the world from admiring
his handsome countenance.
Egypt has many Modern, Luxurious Hotels
I wish to end this with a story from the Mena House. If you
know Egypt, then you know the Mena house. This is from, "The
Mena House Oberoi" by Nina Nelson.
"Mena House has always been a well known place for
honeymooners and to see a young couple annoyed with, or unsuited
for, each other is enough to plunge a sofragi into gloom.
In an unobstrusive way he can sometimes play cupid in lovers’
tiffs and, more often then not, manage to patch differences up; as
in the case of Mr. and Mrs. C. from Alexandria. They were an
attractive wealthy young couple and were shown into room 36. They
had their meals sent upstairs for three days and did not once come
down themselves. On the fourth morning, Mr. C. went to the
reception desk.
Mena House Hotel
"I am going to Alexandria for a day or so. My wife does
not wish to see any visitors or take any telephone calls. Please
see that she is not disturbed in any way." Will she not come
downstairs to any meals while you are away?", asked the
clerk. "No!" said Mr. C. shortly.
The junior reception clerk was amazed. Mrs. C. was pretty and
looked as if she was used to outdoor life. It certainly seemed
strange that she should not go out of her room for days on end.
However, there was always the balcony. Perhaps she was recovering
from an illness, or expecting a baby. He dismissed the tantalizing
subject of Mrs. C. from his mind and got on with his work.
The intriguing question of why Mrs. C. ate heartily in her
room, ordered drinks and sunbathed on the balcony and never came
downstairs was uppermost in the junior reception clerk’s mind
when he returned from lunch. On an impulse he telephoned her
bedroom. Mrs. C. answered.
"Excuse me, Madame, but is there anything you wish sent up
to your room?", asked the clerk. Mrs. C answered, "Yes,
I would very much like some magazines".
"Certainly, Madam, I will see what I can find.",
answered the clerk. He went into the reading room of the Mena
House and gathering some magazines and papers and gave them to a
sofragi to bring up to number 36. A few moments later the clerk
was wanted on the telephone by Mrs. C. "Thank you," she
said, "for sending me the magazines, but I have already seen
them.
"It is my half-day off today, Madame, and when I am in
Cairo I will see if I can find some new ones." answered the
clerk.
"That would be very nice. Perhaps you would send them up
tomorrow," she said. "Indeed I will, Madame." The
clerk arrived back at the Mena House with three new magazines and
put them in his desk. After breakfast was over the next day he was
still so curious about Mrs. C and why she never appeared in public
that he decided to go upstairs with the magazines and deliver them
himself.
Once there, Mrs. C. sang out, "Come in". She had the
French windows open and had obviously been out on her balcony
sitting in the sun. She wore pale green trousers and an orange
blouse. Her hair was black and shiny, her face vivacious and
pretty. Certainly, Mrs. C did not look ill.
"Sit down a minute," she invited, "it is most
kind of you to bring me these. I am really very bored up
here."
"I feel sure you must be, Madame. I known I should not ask
you, Madame, but why do you never come downstairs?’
Mrs. C laughed. "It is a long story. Would you really like
to know?"
"Yes I would, Madame,"said the clerk frankly.
"Well then, if I tell you, you must sit down," she
replied.
"I am not allowed to sit down with guests in their rooms,
Madame, but I would be most interested to know your reasons. I can
stand up." The clerk said.
"You must never let my husband know, she said, and the
clerk responded that, "You can rely on my complete
discretion." She knew, and stated that, "I know I can
rely on any of the staff here."
"You sound as if you have stayed here before." Said
the clerk.
"I have. I came here on my honeymoon, but that was when I
was married to somebody else." she said. The clerk did not
say anything, so Mrs. C continued.
"I loved my first husband better than life itself."
She said, and the only answer that the clerk could provide was,
"Oh, I am sorry, did he die?"
"Oh no. We were divorced. We were very happy for quite a
time. Then he inherited a lot of money and our troubles began.
First, he decided to by an interest in a film company. I am very
jealous, and of course, all the pretty girls who wanted to become
film stars made a fuss over him and he began taking this one, then
that one out. I was furious and threatened if he kept seeing other
girls I would divorce him. He kept on and I did divorce him. Then
he began to drink too much. He begged me to remarry him. He said
he would stop drinking and that he hated life without me. I also
hated life without him so we remarried."
The clerk offered Mr. C. and cigarette, which she accepted and
then crossed one leg over the other. "It was no good,"
she said. "He kept on drinking. He began to go out again
without me. I never knew where he was. One night I was so
miserable I went out with a friend to a restaurant in Alexandria
to have dinner. There at the table across the room was my husband
having a meal with two pretty girls. I was mad with rage. I seized
the wine bottle off my own table and rushed across the room. I was
going to crash it down on his head."
Mrs. C. picked up a tumbler from the table near her and circled
it in her hand so that the remains of lemonade in it went in
little spirals up and down the glass.
"Did you hurt him?" asked the clerk.
"No. he ducked, but I brought the bottle down on one
girl's arm and cut her badly."
The clerk was horrified. "Were you arrested?" he
asked.
Mrs. C. smiled. "No, the whole thing was hushed up."
She looked thoughtful and puffed at her cigarette. "I could
not rest until we had divorced again. After we divorced, we were
miserable without each other for six months. He stopped drinking,
lost interest in his film work and I was very unhappy too."
"You did not remarry?" asked the clerk.
"We did...for the third time. We were happy for a year.
Then the whole thing began again; drinking, girls and I never knew
when I was going to see him. There was nothing to do but..."
"Divorce," ended the clerk.
"You are right. For the third time we divorced."
"But now you are happily married to someone else."
The clerk assumed.
"No, my present husband has a completely different
character. He does exactly what I want. He has no mind of his own
except to please me.' She answered.
The clerk got back to the subject uppermost in his mind.
"This does not explain why you always stay in your room
alone."
"Well, in a way it does. You see, I only married this man
to get back to my first husband."
The clerk became truly interested. Whether it was permitted by
the hotel or not, he sat down on a cane chair near the open
shutters and lit a cigarette. "I do not understand." he
said.
"You know that in our religion a woman can only divorce a
man three times. After that she cannot remarry him unless she
marries someone else in the meantime and he divorces her. If I can
get my present husband to divorce me I can go back to the man I
really love."
"But Madam, if your new husband divorces you, what would
happen if your first husband would not marry you again."
asked the clerk.
"Don't say that!" Mrs. C. hurled her tumbler at a
long looking glass. It smashed and drops of lemon juice sprayed
the shiny surface. Luckily the mirror did not break.
"Of course he would remarry you." The clerk said
hastily.
"Of course he would. I must get this man I am married to
now to hate me and divorce me."
"How?" asked the clerk.
"Well. I have begun my campaign. I will not go downstairs.
I won't go anywhere or do anything."
"Perhaps he does not mind as he loves you so much."
said the clerk shyly.
"Oh, I don't let him touch me. We do not share the same
bed. He has to sleep on the floor. He is in love with me at the
moment but he will soon get fed up. I will make life so difficult
for him he will be glad to divorce me." The clerk got up from
his chair.
"Goodbye Madame. I am glad the magazines are of some
use," said the clerk as he left.
"Goodbye and thank you." Mrs. C. was already turning
over the pages in one of the magazines. The extraordinary
conversation was over and the clerk had plenty to think about as
he went back to the reception desk.
When there are strange happenings at Mena House the staff gets
together to see if they can do anything about it. Abdul Hassan was
the special upstairs waiter whose eyes were all seeing. The clerk
decided Hassan was the only man who could find out if there was a
chance that Mrs. C. might eventually fall in love with her present
charming husband. The clerk did not think much of her former one.
Hassan agreed the first husband was too unstable.
"The one good thing you have told me is that Madam C.
smashed her glass against the mirror," he said thoughtfully.
"That shows what she wanted to do to her first husband if he
refused to marry her again. That kind of love is close to hate. I
will see the C's together and will 'sense' what ought to be
done."
And with this, the clerk had to be content.
When Mr. C. returned, he first walked into the reception desk
room and inquired if his wife had gone out or received any
telephone calls. "Well," the clerk answered truthfully,
"Mrs. C. has not left her room and has had all her meals and
drinks sent up to her."
Mr. C. shoot his head in a disappointed fashion and went up to
No. 36. A few minutes later he telephoned down for some whisky,
ice and water for two.
Hassan arranged to take the drinks upstairs. The clerk waited
impatiently for him to return. Hassan came back looking worried.
"That lady is doing her best to make her husband
miserable."
"How id you know? Was it anything they said?" asked
the clerk.
"No, they behave normally, as they would in front of a
waiter, but I can see she is making him very unhappy and he loves
her so much he will do anything he can to please her."
"Do you think they could be happy if she forgot her first
husband?"
"Yes I do. I am a very experienced man in the ways of life
and I shall fix everything" said Hassan.
"I wish you would but Mrs. C. said her husband must never
know she told me. You must never let him know either."
Hassan was indignant. "The husband shall not know I know,
but neither shall the wife. It is the first unhappiness we have
had in number 36 for a long time. How long are they to stay?"
"At least another fortnight." answered the clerk.
"That gives me ample time. The first husband is not worth
any more effort. The second one is. He is a good man. His wife is
a nice and pretty woman. We shall see that they fall in love and
then she will forget her first husband and not wish for a forth
divorce."
Two days later Mr. C. had to go to Alexandria again. His wife
asked him to leave the same message at the reception desk. She was
to have all meals in her room and no telephone calls.
"I am beginning my cure," Hassan told the clerk
later. "I asked Mrs. C. where her husband went and she said
to Alexandria. I looked doubtful and she asked if that was not so.
I told Madame Mr. C. might have told her that but actually he had
gone to Cairo. She was surprised but said nothing."
"I do not know how that is going to help." said the
clerk.
"Oh! I had a long conversation as to why Mr. C. had gone
to Cairo and not Alexandria. I must make Mrs. C. jealous and get
her husband worried. Then I have a situation I can do something
about."
When Mr. C. returned to the hotel Hassan was waiting for him.
"I think you ought to know, sir, that I told Madame you had
gone to Cairo." Mr. C. was astonished.
"But I went to Alexandria." He protested.
"I know sir, but I told Madame you had gone to Cairo
because it would make her jealous."
"Jealous, why?" an annoyed Mr. C. asked.
Hassan was confidential. "I have much experience of women,
sir. I have four wives and I have to be careful to see that all
are happy."
"How do you do that?"
Mr. C. was bewildered. He could not think his wife would tell a
waiter all her fears even if she was jealous. If only he could
believe she was jealous. He must get such a ridiculous idea out of
his head. She only thought of her first husband and never of him.
He wished he did not lover her so much. He had had a difficult
time since he had been at the Mena House. He felt his wife wanted
him to hate her. If she really thought he had been to Cairo to see
a girl and was jealous, as Hassan suggested, there was hope that
she cared for him a little. Hassan was trying to help. Why not let
him. He appeared to be on his side. Maybe Hassan did know how to
handle women.
"What do you suggest I do now?" he asked the waiter.
"I cannot be firm as I wish her to do as she wishes. All I
want is her happiness."
"I know. I know!" Hassan's voice was soothing.
"But you do not want her to become a drunkard?"
"A drunkard? What are you talking about?" asked the
husband.
"She orders far too many whiskies when you are away,
sir."
"How do you know?"
"Because I bring them." Hassan was wondering if he
was going a bit too far. He was strictly speaking the truth. Two
whiskies never hurt anyone. He prayed Mr. C. would not ask him the
number but would think he meant about six. Mr. C. did not say
anything. He just looked worried.
"Take my advice, sir. Be firm and all will be well."
When Mr. C. went to the room, Hassan waited downstairs
wondering what was going on in room 36. He went into the bar and
told the barman that should Mr. C. order drinks, he would like to
the one to take them up. Almost before he was out of the bar Mr.
C. telephoned down to ask that whisky, ice and water should be
sent upstairs to his room.
Hassan entered number 36 with his tray. He looked at Mrs. C.
She looked pleased to have her husband home. Mr. C. still looked a
trifle bewildered.
"Whisky, please, Hassan," said Mrs. C.
"Do you think you ought to, Madame?"
"What are you talking about, Hassan?" asked Mrs. C.
indignantly. "You know I like whisky."
Hassan looked at Mrs. C. significantly and poured out drinks
for both husband and wife.
"You will be dining downstairs tonight?" asked the
waiter.
"No!" said Mrs. C. quickly.
"Ob, but you must, Madame. Mr. C. insisted that you shall
sit at a corner table and that tonight there will be pink
champagne."
Mrs. C. was bewildered now, as Mr. C. remained. "When did
I do this? He asked.
"Tonight for the anniversary."
"What anniversary?" Both Mr. And Mrs. C. asked the
question together.
"Madame," said Hassan soothingly, "Mr. C. meant
it as a surprise."
He looked at Mr. C. and winked. Mr. C. was busy thinking.
Perhaps he ought to be more firm. "Darling, we are going down
tonight. I insist we dine downstairs."
"But why tonight? What anniversary is it?"
Hassan was ready with the answer. "Number 36 is a very
special room for those in love, Madame. On this particular night
each year we have to decorate it with flowers. It is the
anniversary of a royal romance, which took place in this very room
fifty years ago. It so happened this year we were worried we might
have to break the tradition. It is by chance that Mr. C. suddenly
insisted that you should both dine in the Moorish dining room. Mr.
C. told us that you had not dined there before. But how
significant this will be on this night of nights! When you return,
number 36 will be a bower of flowers." Mr. C. and Hassan both
looked at Mrs. C. Would she acquiesce?
"I think it is a charming idea." she said.
"That this room should be decorated with flower?"
asked Mr. C.
"No darling, that you should have ordered pink champagne,
a special table and insist that I go downstairs to dine tonight. I
should love to."
Mr. C. looked around for Hassan, but he was running down the
main staircase three steps at a time, oblivious to two tourists
climbing the stairs slowly. They both watched Hassan in amazement.
First, Hassan found the housekeeper and asked that she would
see that several bowls of roses be placed around room 36 for a
'special occasion! Secondly, he ran to the kitchen, breathlessly
ordering pink champagne on ice, a table in a corner for two and,
still out of breath, he ran to the reception desk and told the
junior clerk that, between them, they had saved yet another
'situation' at the Mena House.
We are not told how Mr. and Mrs. C. ended up, and I fear this
ploy might not work so well fifty or more years later, but people
in Egypt love lovers.
Dinning Aboard a Nile Cruiser
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