Into the pyramid - and out again
Day 4: on a guided tour - part 3
The ancient Egyptian potentates weren't stingy - at least not in regard to their large-scale personal undertakings, chief of which was the construction of a suitable funerary memorial. Some of these remain with us today, and even if they appear somewhat weather-worn and storm-battered, still the pyramids provide spectacles worth savouring.
On our final day in Egypt, we got the chance to have a close look at what one pharaoh in particular, one Khefren, did to enhance his own post-mortem reputation. His father had already built the gigantic Kheops' pyramid, so out of deference (?) Khefren determined not to otdo 'Daddy'. Thus he settled for twenty feet less. His pyramid, you see, towers to the sky, but doesn't eclipse the old man's tomb. Good thing, Khef (or maybe he ran out of cash...?)!
Anyway, finally out there on the Giza plateau where the three pharaos once rested in their solitude, we opted to try to sneak into the very-late king's favourite spot: the burial chamber. Only one challenge lay between us and our destination, namely a very narrow and very uncomfortable passage.
So what was it like? Daunting. Imagine bending forward, then walking with your body in a very awkward position for who-knows-how-long, all the while trying to fend off thoughts threatening to trigger utter panic. I should have guessed what I was in for when the Japanese lady emerged from the less-than welcoming exit (which was also the only way in). She wore the look that normally would have led me to conclude that she was in a state of shock.
I now know what she must have felt. Cheated? Not exactly, although the immediate reward for this 25 Egyptian pounds-ordeal was a noticeable release of perspiration all over my 6ft+ frame. On top of that came the chamber itself; empty with no lingering sensation of pharaonic glory.
But still I triumphed over the twin enemies of claustrophobia and cowardice. I did enter a pyramid, and I did manage to successfully get out of it. No medals please. Just tell ol' Khef that I paid him a visit, but he wasn't in.
The ancient Egyptian potentates weren't stingy - at least not in regard to their large-scale personal undertakings, chief of which was the construction of a suitable funerary memorial. Some of these remain with us today, and even if they appear somewhat weather-worn and storm-battered, still the pyramids provide spectacles worth savouring.
On our final day in Egypt, we got the chance to have a close look at what one pharaoh in particular, one Khefren, did to enhance his own post-mortem reputation. His father had already built the gigantic Kheops' pyramid, so out of deference (?) Khefren determined not to otdo 'Daddy'. Thus he settled for twenty feet less. His pyramid, you see, towers to the sky, but doesn't eclipse the old man's tomb. Good thing, Khef (or maybe he ran out of cash...?)!
Anyway, finally out there on the Giza plateau where the three pharaos once rested in their solitude, we opted to try to sneak into the very-late king's favourite spot: the burial chamber. Only one challenge lay between us and our destination, namely a very narrow and very uncomfortable passage.
So what was it like? Daunting. Imagine bending forward, then walking with your body in a very awkward position for who-knows-how-long, all the while trying to fend off thoughts threatening to trigger utter panic. I should have guessed what I was in for when the Japanese lady emerged from the less-than welcoming exit (which was also the only way in). She wore the look that normally would have led me to conclude that she was in a state of shock.
I now know what she must have felt. Cheated? Not exactly, although the immediate reward for this 25 Egyptian pounds-ordeal was a noticeable release of perspiration all over my 6ft+ frame. On top of that came the chamber itself; empty with no lingering sensation of pharaonic glory.
But still I triumphed over the twin enemies of claustrophobia and cowardice. I did enter a pyramid, and I did manage to successfully get out of it. No medals please. Just tell ol' Khef that I paid him a visit, but he wasn't in.
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