Mohamed Ali was our competent and patient guide through Egypt. Charleston, Chicago, Frankfurt, Cairo - a total of 13 air hours. A tall, dark, handsome young man directed us through customs and into a Mercedes bus. He introduced himself as Mohamed Ali, "Not the boxer and not the founder of modern Egypt, just your tour guide."

As we inched through Cairo, Ali (as he preferred to be called) explained the traffic rules, "There are none. The traffic lights are just decoration. Everyone blows his horn continuously." He was right.

Ali explained the plain- clothed, armed guard riding shotgun. "The government assigns tourist police to every tour group. Tourism is Egypt's number one industry. We can't afford anymore attacks on tourists." He also pointed out the Jeep full of uniformed soldiers escorting us through the maze of Cairo.

We made our way through miles of apartments, government buildings, skyscrapers, across the Nile twice, and into Giza. Finally after almost two hours on the bus, we reached our hotel, the Movenpick 6th of October, amidst piles of sand and swirls of dust somewhere west of the Great Pyramids.

The Nile River at Cairo spreads out into a delta 60 miles from the Mediterranean Sea. In a sleep- denied purple funk, my wife Linda and I pulled our luggage through a twisting lane of lighted palms to building 14 and found our room. An hour later we met Ali and our group for orientation.

Twenty- four bright- eyed and bushy- tailed Americans grabbed glasses of wine and gathered around a circle of tables. Ali announced that henceforth

we would be known as Ali's

Group. He was in his 30s, a graduate of Cairo University, and a certified tour guide. He had been married two months before and now had to lead us through Egypt for two weeks before seeing his bride again. "Ohhhh, poor baby," sighed the women.

Ali's Group turned out to be an eager, enthusiastic, mostly AARP cardholders, bunch of fun- loving, hardy adventurers. Many had been on scores of Overseas Adventure Travel (OAT) trips. This was our third (Thailand, Tuscany, Egypt).

Lighted palms lined the walkways surrounding the Movenpick 6th of October Hotel in Cairo. We were not the only Southerners so we did not have to defend our accent or explain that we didn't own slaves anymore. There were couples from Florida, Tennessee, North Carolina, and Georgia. There were also non- Southern couples from Massachusetts, Iowa, Ohio, California, and Wisconsin. The majority were retired. There was a dentist, a veterinarian, a human resource administrator, several teachers, and a handful of successful businessmen, all gleefully spending their grandchildren's inheritance.

The two singles in Ali's Group were most interesting: Edna, a 76- year- old retired teacher and missionary widow, who refused to say no to any peddler; and Frank, an 80- year- old retired construction engineer/merchant marine/bon vivant, who claimed to have been to every country in the world. "No worries, mate," was his mantra.

"Egyptology is the science of maybe," said Ali early the next morning. "As we explore the historical sites, I will give you the latest explanation of what historians and archaeologists believe to be the truth. If you come back next year, I might tell you something different." With that warning, we headed for Saqqara, home of the first pyramid.

Our hotel in Cairo, the Movenpick 6th of October, was located in the sand dunes of far west Cairo. (Next week: The Step Pyramid of Saqqara)

A typical scene in Cairo, Egypt's capital city of over 20 million people.