On one side the desert (on the left bank), to the right; on the left, green meadow.

November 26th, 1849, 12am

With its sycamores, from afar it resembles a plain of Normandy and its apple trees. On the right, it’s grey-red. One sees the two pyramids, then a smaller one; works for the dam, a bridge started, with several romanesque arches. To our left, Cairo piled up on a hill. The Muhammad Ali mosque raises its dome; behind, the Mokattan, barren. Arrival at Boulaq, the hustle and bustle of the landing; a little less beatings with sticks than in Alexandria, however. From boulaq to Cairo, road on a kind of carriageway planted with acacias and small palm trees - we enter the Ezbekieh gardens - trees, greenery. We go to the hotel d’Orient, at Coulomb’s.


Cassie and Chris said thanks.

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Gustave Flaubert

"Travel makes one modest, you see what a tiny place you occupy in the world." [extracts from Flaubert's travel diary written in 1849-1851]

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