I consulted travel guides as I wrote a novel set in World War I Egypt.
I’ve personally visited the other locations in my novel, but I won’t be able to travel to Cairo anytime soon, perhaps never. That doesn’t, however, get me off the hook for writing intelligently about a land far away that many people think they know.
You say Egypt and people think pyramids, King Tut and, possibly, Luxor; all the famous places tourists have been visiting for years. Some will add Aswan Dam and desert. Jews and Christians will remember Moses and pharaoah.
Since we know the pyramids have been there forever, I turned to a guide book to give me a sense of the where and what–as in, where are these tourist spots and what do people eat, think of the weather, and know about the geography?
I focused on the timeless–what would have been the same in 1914 as it is today.
So I checked travel guides–they’d tell me the basic information I need and provide maps, along with perspective. I started with Lonely Planet‘s Egypt.
Lonely Planet travel guides
Lonely Planet’s travel guide gave me an overview of the entire country, along with history and explanations for things like when Cairo was built. It comes with an index that enabled me to look up items pertinent to my story: like just where the pyramids are in relation to Old Cairo, for example. It included a glossary of common terms an English speaker might need, including how to pronounce it.
مرحبا That, for example, is hello: ah-lan.
Many people understand “baksheesh,” and the begger’s desire for a tip, but did you know, according to Lonely Planet Egypt
Another signal often misinterpreted by foreigners is a loud hissing sound. No, that guy isn’t commenting on your looks–he’s trying to get your attention so you don’t get trampled by his donkey cart coming down the narrow lane. Interpret a hiss as ‘watch out–coming through!’
I’ll be able to work a hiss into my story, easy, and it will add verisimilitude to my tale.
Baedeker’s 1914 travel guide
The travel guide that really excited me, however, was found through Google books: Baedecker‘s 1914 Egypt. Best of it, I could download it directly to my Ipad.
The font is peculiar and I have to guess at some words, but just last night I learned the name of an occulist; which tram to catch to Heliopolis and how much it cost (along with the schedule); that crows and kites live in the few city parks; the Fishmarket (which is not close to the Nile) is a disreputable quarter and soothsayers squat beside the road to tell fortunes by consulting the sand!
This was the guide used by people living 100 years ago to tour the Middle East. It provided the names of shipping firms (including the ships that sailed between Southampton and Alexandria); explained how to catch the train and described the dusty exhibits in the Egyptian Museum–all information I can use.
From Baedecker, I learned the streets were filled with the sounds of “cracking driver’s whips, jingling money at the table changers and the rattling of the brazen vessels carried by water carriers.” I’d never have imagined those sensory details.
He spares us information on the smells, but does provide a list of restaurants in Cairo and includes warnings about places respectable ladies should not visit. It’s perfect.
All Giza Pyramids in one shot. (Wikipedia Commons)
Travel guides might not be the first choice for a writer, but their overviews and insights can make all the difference in providing details that make a story come alive. I hope I’ll be able to put the information to good use.
Have you ever used a travel guide as a research tool? What surprising information did you find?
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I haven’t used a print travel guide, but I’ve used online ones.
And for a friend’s book set in Alexandria? I used my dad!! He went to school there.
And based on what I’ve been reading, Alexandria sounds like a beautiful place. Travel guides are the only physical books I’ve carried on my last four trips to Europe (Other books went on an electronic reader). Somehow, I need to hold the book in my hand in order to get the full effect of the location!
Thanks, Michelle. I’m grateful to have these resources. A friend and I are going to London and Paris this spring and I’ll take lots of notes for future reference. But I do appreciate knowing where I can go to get info on other interesting sites.
Get Rick Steves’ guides, and his podcasts if you’ve got an Ipod (they’re free; the Louvre is terrific, see http://www.ricksteves.com). I’ve used his books in those two cities several times and they’re wonderfully comprehensive and practical. Feel free to email me if you’ve got questions–we were in both cities last October.
In West Africa, the hiss is used to get one’s attention, used mostly by vendors and children wanting candy or money. The hissing is more of a ‘ssst, ssst‘. Donkey cart drivers hit their carts with the butt of their whips as a signal that they are coming through – one has to be alert for the tapping sound while walking through the noisy markets.
Guides can be useful. However, beware of word spellings, as such books often transcribe foreign words very poorly and the reader ends up with pronunciations that sound nothing like the actual word. The common greeting across all of North Africa is the Arabic “Assalamu alaikum” (peace be unto you), varying only with pronunciation in the local dialect, and is replied to automatically with “Wa-alaikum salamm” (And to you, peace). Also, cross check any cultural interpretations, as commercial travelers often lack the time to dig beneath the surface and simply writes what he is told by his guides. Nationals will often tell the tourist what they think he wants to hear, rather than the real reason.
Great advice, Roscuro. I’d never dream of using words I’d pronounced out of guide book. For, even if I pronounced them correctly, how on earth would I be able to figure out the reply? 🙂
And good warning about the response to hapless tourists. Even when we lived in Hawai’i, I’d tell the children: “just be polite. They mean well and simply don’t understand.”