Bowlings Abroad

Originally shared via Nate’s newsletter “Takes and Typos” on January 26, 2025

So, this week was something… but I feel like I say that every third or fourth one of these.

After the November election, I spent three straight newsletters cataloging the policies the incoming administration planned to bring to the capital (parts 1, 2, and 3). Even with that preparation, some of what unfolded this week managed to catch me off-guard.

It was a good heat check that even though it's been normalized among the terminally online (like myself), nobody needs breaking political news in their life.

This newsletter has its origins in my departure from Twitter, and it often doubles as a journal on my complicated relationship with the internet. It’s where I’ve taught myself countless things, connected with people who are like family to me, and stumbled upon opportunities—like international teaching—that turned out to be one of the best decisions of my life.

But let’s be honest: I’ve also wasted thousands of hours consuming absolute garbage content.

Lately, I’ve been trying to shift my media and information consumption habits, yet again—less focus on following headlines and more attention to what’s actually happening in the world. Those may sound like the same thing, but trust me, they’re not.

With that in mind, I’m taking a step back from political news for a bit and leaning into culture and travel. This week, I’m finally going to share a bit about our amazing trip to Cairo and Luxor, for real this time.

Hope and me with our Cairo Guide, Mohamed Zayan

This won't necessarily be a full travelogue. Hope and are working on a joint write up for our website BowlingsAbroad, where we’ll lament the shortcomings of our sixth grade social studies education and talk in more depth about our itinerary. Today, I just want to share some insights and meditate a bit on the experience with y'all.

At this point, we’re pretty experienced travelers. We dive onto subways and metros without hesitation, navigating like locals. We pack light and we make sure we don’t look too much like dorky tourists. Over time, we’ve developed a solid routine that rarely fails us.

None of that helped during our first foray into the Arab world.

That trip happened on a whim. We were backpacking through Southern Spain, and after a stop in Gibraltar, we realized Morocco was just a ferry ride away. So, naturally, we booked passage.

Here’s where things went sideways: instead of buying tickets for the fast ferry, we cheaped out and got tickets for the slow ferry—half the cost but at least three times as long, and bumpy as hell.

My wife has a whole routine about how we were convinced the thing was going to sink, and we’d end up at the bottom of the Strait of Gibraltar. If you know her in real life, ask her about it—it’s one of her favorite stories to tell.

In short, we didn’t plan that trip at all. We arrived in Tangier in the middle of summer heat, starving, and—unfortunately for us—hours before iftar—the meal where Muslims break their fast during Ramadan.

We really played ourselves.

The trip never got smoother from there. The whole time I felt like I was the kid with no rhythm on the outside of a Double Dutch circle, and the further we got from Tangier the more useless my passable Spanish became and the more I wish I had taken French or Arabic instead of Deutsch and Español.

That experience in Morocco stayed with me, shaping my expectations in the region, both when I moved to the Gulf and when planning trips elsewhere in the region. But sometimes, you learn the wrong lessons from an experience.

Our trip to Egypt was nothing like Morocco—it was incredible. We landed in Cairo, the bustling capital, and were greeted by our guide for Cairo, Mohamed Zayan. This was a first for us; we’ve always been DIY travelers. I pride myself on figuring things out on my own, but having a guide made the trip exponentially better. It saved me from some of the headaches and missteps I’d encountered in Morocco, and it let us fully enjoy the experience without constantly worrying about logistics.

We'll sing his praises later on but if you're going to Egypt, I encourage you to book with my man, Ramy. He handled all our arrangements.

The view of the Pyramids from breakfast at the Marriott in Giza

Cairo is alive—it buzzes and hums with the energy of 30 million people. The city feels endless, and every so often, the Pyramids come into view on the horizon, stealing your attention. They loom over the city the way Mount Rainier dominates the skyline over Tacoma, a quiet but constant reminder of something far older and grander.

In Cairo we went to Khan el-Khalili, an ancient public market that makes the Turkish Bazaar feel as calm as an Episcopalian church on Mondays.

We visited a mosque built in the mid 1500s and its gorgeous surrounding neighborhood.

We visited the Great Pyramids of Giza, which left us speechless.

We visited new neighborhoods filled with foreign nationals who live and work in the city.

We cruised through Tahrir Square, ground zero for the Egyptian revolution in 2011.

We then shifted locations south to Luxor. Throughout the trip I found myself in awe of all of it.

Hope getting schooled at the Temple of Luxor, Ramy seated behind Hope

We marveled at columns the size of buses, standing since 1400 BC, at Luxor Temple.

Our Egyptologist escorted us into the Valley of the Kings and the tombs of long dead Pharaohs.

Interior of a tomb in the Valley of the Kings

It was incredible.

If you've ever thought about going to Egypt you should go. If you've never thought about going to Egypt you should think about it.

Traveling through Egypt reminded me of why I fell in love with exploring the world in the first place. It’s not just about the monuments or the history—though Egypt has those in spades—it’s about being shaken out of the familiar, seeing the world from a different angle, and letting yourself be surprised.

For me, this trip wasn’t just a vacation; it was a recalibration. It made me remember how much I’ve let the noise eat away at my sense of curiosity and wonder. Egypt, with all its beauty and chaos, brought that back.