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78 Oriental Cairo<br />

There were odd little restaurants in these bazars, with two<br />

or three of the grand brass jugs, holding three or four gallons<br />

each, which they use for hot water. These form a sort of<br />

sign-manual of the bazar restaurant, and are about all you see,<br />

except richly worked brass urn-stands. From time to time<br />

their servants hurried past, carrying coffee in glasses with<br />

enamelled knobs to some merchant who was doing a deal<br />

with foreigners, and the sun filtered through the boards above.<br />

This part of the bazars was always Oriental, always full of<br />

subjects for the kodaker whose lenses were strong enough to<br />

take things in the shade.<br />

To go into the bazars at Cairo is as good as going to<br />

Japan. They are topsy-turvy land ; they are a paradise for<br />

kodakers ; they are as exciting to a woman as the summer<br />

sales. The whole district between the Citadel and the driedup<br />

canal is called loosely the Bazars. This is the chief<br />

commercial part of the Arab city; here are the best mosques<br />

and baths and the most unspoiled old houses and streets.<br />

This is the best place for seeing the natives at their trades<br />

and for picking up bargains, and it is excellent for seeing<br />

native life.<br />

The travellers who divide their time between expensive<br />

hotels and the Khedivial Sporting Club, and only go to the<br />

bazars to buy the stereotyped curiosities, see little beyond<br />

the Turkish Bazar and the Scentmakcrs' Bazar. These pay<br />

the dragoman best ; but they are among the least interesting,<br />

for the scentmakers have nothing to show, and the others<br />

are too cosmopolitan in their shops and their ways and their<br />

wares.<br />

You feel the glamour of the Orient when you only drive<br />

down the Musky to the Turkish Bazar, in charge of the<br />

hotel dragoman. There is nothing really Turkish about<br />

it. Hardly any of the shopkeepers are Turks and hardly<br />

any customers are Turks, and not many of the wares are<br />

Turkish. But from the time that you enter the Musky<br />

you arc impeded by a crowd of Orientals so thick that<br />

your carriage can hardly plough through them—blue-gowned<br />

porters carrying prodigious burdens, and black-robed women

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