Watching clouds pass over the western face of the Pyramid of Cheops, I had to pinch myself - was I really here. I've been waiting most of my life to get to the Pyramids at Giza, and there I stood.

 

In seventh grade, I researched and wrote my science fair project about mummification. For the display, I mummified a doll. I built a little funerary catalfalque, with clay Canopic jars, and even had a statue of a priest with a jackal mask on.

 

My obsession with Egypt netted me first prize, and I was as determined then as ever to visit this strange, ancient land. The opportunity presented itself on a Sunday morning. We needed a three hour ride to get to Cairo from Port Said, and since we had to be back that night to traverse the Suez Canal, we had about eight hours in Cairo.

 

In perspective, I helped drive a boat 5,000 miles across the Atlantic and Mediterranean for three months, and the best I can get is eight hours in Cairo. Okay. At least I got to see the Pyramids.

 

And not in a million years did I expect the Pyramids at Giza to be in an urban environment. I always imagined they'd be in deep desert, like years ago, when Teddy Roosevelt made his safari. But now, the city has cordoned off about six square kilometers for nine pyramids and the Sphinx, surrounded by dense city.

 

You can actually see the pyramids getting off the highway exit ramp. Then you pull down crowded city streets, past donkeys, bicycles, cars and people people people. And holy cow, you're in front of these ancient monuments.

 

 

The hustle and bustle of Cairo was almost overwhelming. At 21 million people, it is one of the world's largest cities. And everyone there needs to make a living.

 

Right before you walk into the temple of the Sphinx, touts hawk water, soda, hats, film, cameras, and any other schlock they think will make them a buck. Like a sunglasses, or ten varieties of hats to protect you from the sun, like a New York Yankees cap.

 

 

Once inside the temple, thousands of tourists mill about, passing through tiny hallways, negative space between massive orange and black tiger-striped granite blocks. You emerge from the throng of Japanese, Italian, German, Spanish, Mexican and English tourists into open air, and what else? More tourist schlock.

 

Any number of statuettes which can be bought in Port Said, al Quayser, Sharm El Shiekh, but are more expensive at the Pyramids (of course).

 

 

Once you negotiate the touts and tourists, boom, you're in front of the Sphinx. It is not as big as you might think, but the mystery and majesty of the stone sculpture still captivates the mind.

 

 

You leave there to walk up the hill to the pyramids. It is hot, and there are still thousands of tourists. Most of them get up to the top of the hill by bus. And the cops, as usual, inspect the buses. Even they get hot though, and a good fruit popsicle will never hurt.

 

The lyrics to the Bangles song should be: "All the cops in the ice cream shops sing..."

 

 

It really is difficult to describe exactly what it means to stand in front of the pyramids. For years, I have had a concert poster advertising the Grateful Dead's performance with Hamza El Din at Giza in 1978. Now, they light up the Pyramids at night and do a laser light show to Pink Floyd.

 

You wait your whole life to see them, and the experience - even at two hours long - exceeded my expectations. The human throng, the heat, the camel noises, the massive blocks that look like legos or bricks. But they are huge, vast and almost incomprehensible.

 

For scale, look at me and two levels of blocks at the very base of a pyramid.

 

 

Now think of those two layers, and compare one tiny corner that shows some 50 or so layers to this row of buses.

 

 

Since we know some of the mythology behind the pyramids and why they were built, Giza isn't as strange as Stonehenge and the unknown stories and belief system that led to its construction.

 

But Giza is far more impressive, so large that the skyscrapers of New York don't seem as massive an achievement, that the Superdome doesn't seem to rank among those wonders of the world.

 

Our instant world can little comprehend monuments that took decades to build. So here's a parting shot to meditate on. Enjoy.