Pursuit of the Road Less Traveled
*All photos were taken by Spencer Rieser.
There’s something to be said for the contradiction of time; its innate ability to serve as both a blessing and a curse in ways that only register after surviving a year of pandemic life--yeah, let that sink in. If that old “you can run but you can’t hide” saying bears any thread of truth, we can all attribute it to those moments of late-night-glass-of-wine-mind-wandering, the ones which usually called for a second and third pour to wipe the slate clean again. Accepting the “New Normal” in all its nuances and cliches brought everyone to a screeching halt, entering a period of collectivism where we finally had a moment to think and feel and question the state of the world. And yet, it’s in those moments where one realizes just how much of the old world we didn’t seem to question at all.
You see, there’s an underlying story about American tourism that often goes unnoticed, or at least unchecked. It’s a story that, in large part, is probably best told through numbers. 42. That’s the percentage of U.S. citizens who, as of 2018, had a valid passport. 3. That was the percentage for folks back in 1989. 19,049,368 and 9,367,829. These are the numbers of U.S. citizens who had traveled to Europe and the Caribbean, respectively, as tourists by the end of 2019. 2,545,054 and 552, 254. These are the figures for that same statistic of U.S. tourists who had traveled to the Middle East and the entire continent of Africa, respectively.
What we quickly begin to see is the connecting thread that weaves the fabric of American tourism. Case in point: we don’t seem to get out much, and when we do, we stick to what we know. If these numbers are any indication, it’s not often that Americans seem to stray from the beaten path, for reasons which never seem to become part of the cultural conversation either.
Understanding the why is a complex web of inconvenient truths, often a matter of time and money, of misguided perceptions and unchecked reactions, of fear and neglect. None of these seemed to do much in stopping Spencer Rieser though, the Elon University senior who rallied a small group of friends to spend their January touring the sights and sounds of Egypt--not kidding, they actually did. We caught up with Rieser to dive deeper, talking all things Egypt and the power of sidestepping conventional travel wisdom.
Nile Ambitions
They’d had their eyes on this for a while, actually. Rieser, an International Studies and Political Science double major with a focus on the Middle East/Arabic, was no stranger to international travel. Having spent last Fall studying in Jordan, he’s been in and out of the Middle East and Southeastern Asia for the past few years traveling with friends. The man’s got stories like you wouldn’t believe with a camera roll to back it up. Forever ridden with the travel bug, Rieser wanted to share these memories with friends; but in an age-old tale that everyone probably knows all too well, COVID-19 had different plans in mind.
A natural yet unfortunate consequence of pandemic life, travel as we knew it ceased to continue, putting everyone’s Notes app bucket lists on an indefinite hiatus. Rieser and his friends had accepted their fate until they learned that Egypt had decided to continue accepting international travelers. With their window of opportunity still open, they decided to seize it. Weeks and multiple rounds of testing later, Spencer Rieser and his friends were Cairo-bound.
Now let’s get something out of the way. For those more inclined to the traditional mold of tourism, one filled with a specific brand of VSCO catalogs and beach photoshoots that have been Adobe Lightroom’d to the gods, a trip to Egypt may not bring you exactly that. Egypt is, however, far from being any stranger to tourism.
Rieser explains that Egypt used to be a much larger hub for travel, centering its image around the great wonders of the ancient world which have permeated mass media. But in a post-Arab-Spring era filled with political unrest turned to military coups and the rise of ISIS in neighboring countries, you can understand why these desert adventures may not be as en vogue as they once were.
Landing in Cairo, Spencer sets the scene for what he describes as a unique kind of “perfect” chaos. “Nothing can prepare you for the reality on the ground,” he leads, reveling in the cataclysmic rhythm of the inner city, bursting at the seams with street vendors, market hagglers, and taxi drivers who keep baseball bats in the backseat—a sobering yet somewhat charming image to conceive. He quickly fell in love with the gritty rawness of Cairo, a city that he believes gives New York a run for its money as one that never sleeps.
With the entire month of January laid out in front of them, the boys took every chance they had to see as much as they could. They took the train over to Alexandria, a stunning ocean-side oasis right on the Mediterranean with unbeatable seafood and crystal-clear water, proving that Egypt isn’t all just one big desert (go figure). From flying over to Luxor, described as one “big open-air museum” rich with ancient history, to staying on a small island smack dab in the middle of the Nile in Aswan; from chatting up locals on river cruises to catching a two-hour ride up to Mount Sinai with armed military protection through more than 15 checkpoints, Rieser and his friends did, saw, marveled, and soaked up everything they could. It was the trip of a lifetime that was cut short soon after President Biden’s inauguration, when changes to CDC guidelines forced them to play it safe and get home early.
Going off the beaten path
Between the baseball bat and the military protection of it all, there’s a lot to unpack here. Traveling to such extremes doesn’t come without its doubts or even risks, but you get the sense from talking to Rieser that it’s exactly this kind of spur-of-the-moment adventure that draws him to it. He makes a poignant distinction here: you can find authenticity wherever you go, but it’s through venturing off the beaten path where you’ll find it’s most organic.
While Egypt has no shortage of famous sights, there’s less of a pressure to check off a running list of must-dos. What you get in return is the freedom to simply be. Rieser can’t stress enough how much he cherishes these once-in-a-blue-moon moments: walking amongst the people, talking politics over drinks with locals, getting to know a European scuba instructor who came to Dahab 20 years ago and never looked back. All with no expectations and without the degrees of separation which usually come in the spots we tend to flock to. Venturing into lesser-charted territory allows one to live and learn and soak up the culture just a little bit more, escaping the ordinary while on a quest for the extraordinary.
Reflecting on his own experiences, Rieser explains that he considers himself more of a traveler than a tourist. It’s a notion that makes you stop and think for a moment, understanding that these two are, in reality, not one and the same. In a way, it’s opting out of traditional tourism which allows us to become travelers—seekers, thinkers, adventurers, and go-getters marching to the beat of their own drum, off that beaten path. And isn’t that what we’ve been missing all along?
So when the time comes for us to pack our bags once more, the “New Normal” finally normal enough for us to hit the skies, here’s to more traveling this time around. After all, it may just take edging towards the periphery to get back to the heart of what we love, and what’s really important.
Enjoy more photos of Egypt’s picturesque terrain and culture.