A Review of the Best Worst Hotel in Egypt
Okay--yeah, I'm back
Have you ever drifted off to the sound of forty horses munching feed? Ever seen a dog shit on a rock taller than he? Ever recognized the same pale slice of meat three days in a row on the platter of a free continental breakfast?
Have you ever had your beers served to you in a tin-foiled ice bucket of tepid water while a teenager snatches a pigeon off the handrail then holds it in front of your face laughing as you beg him not to kill it until he throws the pigeon into the air and asks how your beer is and you tell him it’s great and doesn’t taste at all like warm sadness because you’re not sure if you disappointed him if he wouldn’t—somehow—capture another pigeon and this time kill it in front of you?
If you want these experiences, and more, travel to Egypt, to the ass-end of the pyramids, past the child whipping a horse, left at the pile of trash—no, not that one, that one, the one with the dogs sleeping in it, then down the alley, WATCH OUT FOR THE VAN! whew, okay, now right over there behind that elderly man who just spit on the litter of kittens. Right there—no, don’t talk to him, or him, oh for fucksake—okay, just run! Run up those stairs real quick. There you go. You have arrived at ‘Best View Pyramids Hotel’.
Yes, let that child take your bag. Yes, the one who is looking at your girlfriend like a ripe snack. Because: shoulders. No, I don’t know why he looks angry now, just follow him into the rickety hobbit-sized elevator. Doors closed. Don’t die, don’t die, don’t die—this would be such a stupid way to die. Doors open. Down the hall. Last door on the left. Key. Give the horny boy money. Why won’t he leave? Okay. Wait in silence. Another minute, surely. Okay, he wants to show you how the TV works—wait, no. He’s watching TV, now. Yawn. Yawn louder. Oh, good. He’s gone.
You’ve made it.
Now, I know all of this sounds grand, but fair warning, don’t go to Best View Pyramids Hotel if you’re opposed to; lies, bullying, child labor, animal abuse, trash, donkeys, donkeys eating trash, dead donkeys, scams, wet salad, unwanted touches, dogs, dogs barking all night, dogs eating trash, dead dogs, screaming camels, food poisoning, and the ever-present danger of getting kicked in the head by a horse.
However, If you can rock with calls to prayer; if dog barks are your lullaby; if camel screams are your jam, well then, welcome. You will be granted untold knowledge. From the waitstaff, you’ll learn the secret to working twenty-one hour days: coffee, coffee, coffee, all day coffee, coffee, vodka. From the owner, you’ll learn the true price of a bottle of perfume; seven-hundred American dollars, okay, thirty dollars with shipping—twenty-five, no problem.
You will have otherworldly experiences like getting in a car accident in a horse-and-buggy, being bullied onto a camel who—without a doubt—wants to kill you as you try to puzzle out who you feel worse for, the camel, or the fifteen-year-old leading you into the desert whose sandal just broke. You’ll wake at four a.m., five a.m., and five-thirty to the sound of dogs barking at the calls to prayer because dogs hate God.
And, after you drop your quarter-length bar of soap back onto the cracked shower floor, step out into the piss-soaked, sand-lit morning, to watch as a group of unsuspecting tourists get loaded onto RVs, you’ll have endless classic games to play with your girlfriend like, Is That Donkey Dead?, Where’d All The Women Go?, Whack-A-Fly, and—if you’re the gambling type—make bets on which leftover egg will make an appearance at this morning’s breakfast.
The Best View Pyramids Hotel is a haunted house of lovable scam-monsters. They’ll suck every dime out of you like a milk-starved baby latched mankind’s last tit.