Joyce's War by Joyce Ffoulkes Parry Read Free Book Online Page A

King Farouk. It was perfect, in a modern style, with gates of solid gold in an intricate pattern of leaves. All was peace and light there and we were loath to leave and go out into the hot sun again.
    But we piled into the taxi once more and made for the pyramids. I have always wanted to go to the pyramids and it seemed strangely familiar to stand under their shadow in reality. The Great Pyramid took 30 years to build, ten years to quarry the stone, ten to lay the foundations and ten to finish it. There is no cement used anywhere to hold the stone together, and the men were changed every three months. We had a camel ride too, three of us, and had our photographs taken at the top with the pyramids behind us.
    We went back to the hotel later for dinner but the night was yet young and at 8.30 we set off once again, two taxis this time, with Mahomet as our guiding star as before. The idea was to see the pyramids by moonlight with the dervishes and the feasting and carousing which went on all night, the occasion being a sort of thanksgiving for the cotton crop. It appeared that after the crop was harvested, all the eligible young men of the village decide to get married, and did so forthwith on the one night around much jollification and very much noise. We marshalled camels once again and a long string of us rode in the moonlight, weaving in and around the houses, watching the dervishes wailing and chanting from the Koran, small groups drinking tea, the thick sweet tea with lemon that we had drunk in the afternoon at Mahomet’s house, or tiny dolls’ cups of Turkish coffee.
    We visited the house of one bride, a young, frightened, rather lovely girl, sitting on the roof top with her maids and her family and as many others as could squeeze in. She was awaiting the arrival of the groom, who had probably only seen her twice in his life before, and everyone was standing or sitting or dancing. He came then, the young groom, flying up the steps in his colourful robes and into the room where the young bride had been hurriedly conducted. But in a moment or two he was out again, flourishing her handkerchief high over his head in triumph, and was off to join his friends. Apparently he came to claim her permanently some time later. We had been to the houses of the bride and her bridegroom in the afternoon, and had shaken hands with them and wished them luck. As we arrived at the house of the bridegroom, the band, which was evidently hired to play to the company, somewhat strangely switched to ‘God save the King’,which we did recognise, fortunately, and we were quite touched. We went at length to Mahomet Ali’s house again, to drink the sweet lemon tea and had our fortunes read in the sand – under the moonlight. We were tired but entirely happy as we climbed into the taxi and set off for the hotel, arriving somewhere between 1 and 2am.
    Friday, September 20th 1940
    We had a quiet day, much needed, and at night there was a dance given by the Australians. They were pathetically delighted that so many of us were Australians and New Zealanders and we were told that many of them had not spoken to their own womenfolk – or any English – since the war began. One persistent gentleman badly wanted me to accompany him to the zoo on Sunday, but as I didn’t care for zoos and didn’t care for him, I declined. Not daunted he found out the number of my room at the desk and rang me up at 1am and again when I was in the bath the next morning, since when he has been silent and, I hope, moved far away. I met quite an amiable boy from Sydney and as he had his chief’s car we went for a run in the moonlight, and to the fort of the pyramids for the fourth time in two days. Home at 2.30.
    On Saturday, we took Mahomet and in two cars about seven of us went out to the ancient city of Memphis and Saqqara 14 where very little remains but flat roofed dirty hovels and an enormous lime-stone figure of Rameses the Great, lying prone on great stones. On his