As I mentioned in my previous blog post, Egypt is nothing like we expected.
When you watch documentaries, you see majestic temples, ancient
archaeology, and stories of pharaohs, kings, and queens. What you don’t see is
real life - the streets of Hurghada, Luxor, Edfu, and Aswan. We haven’t visited
Cairo yet, but I can only imagine that life there must feel even more intense
than in the cities along the Nile.
As first-time visitors, we naturally had high expectations - not only
because of Egypt’s extraordinary history, but also regarding modern
infrastructure and urban development. And in some ways, we were genuinely
surprised: the highways cutting through the desert are cleaner and smoother
than many roads in Europe. No bumps, perfect asphalt, calm and almost surreal
drives.
But then you enter the cities.
And everything changes.
There is trash everywhere. Dirt, unfinished buildings, neglected streets.
It is shocking - and honestly heartbreaking - to see places of such historical
importance in this awful and shameful condition.
At the same time, the scale of tourism is overwhelming. The number of
visitors, the endless Nile cruises, the buses lining up at every historical
site - it feels like controlled chaos. Yet somehow, it is incredibly well
organized.
Egypt’s economy generates roughly $400–450 billion annually, with
tourism playing a visible but not dominant role. The sector contributes around 8–12%
of the country’s GDP, supported by approximately 19 million
international visitors each year, who generate an estimated $14–18
billion in revenue.
However, Egypt’s economy is far more diversified than it may seem. Key
sectors such as oil and gas, manufacturing, and agriculture form a substantial
part of the economic foundation, while the Suez Canal alone brings in over $8–10
billion annually as one of the world’s most strategic trade routes.
In addition, billions of dollars are sent home by Egyptians working abroad,
making remittances another crucial pillar.
And yet - despite all of this - the reality on the streets tells a very
different story.
We saw unfinished high-rise buildings along the Red Sea in Hurghada that
looked like abandoned shells. Entire areas felt forgotten, almost ghost-like.
It raises a difficult question: why does a country with such economic inflow
still struggle with visible neglect in its urban spaces?
But beyond infrastructure, there is something even more painful to witness.
The animals.
In no other place have we seen so many stray dogs lying in the burning sun
— without food, without water, clearly ill and exhausted. It is a reality that
is hard to ignore and even harder to accept. In a culture where charity and
giving are deeply rooted, this contrast feels especially striking.
And then, there was one moment I will never forget.
From our cabin - number 414 on the Nile Story - while we were docked
in Aswan, I was looking out of the window. A man, maybe in his forties, stopped
in the street and spent time with a group of stray dogs. Not just a minute - at
least 20 to 30 minutes. He brought them food, gave them water, and gently
stroked them.
For a brief moment, those dogs experienced something they may not have felt
in a long time: care, attention, maybe even love.
I wanted to run downstairs and hug that man.
That image stayed with me. Because it reminded me that even in difficult
conditions, compassion exists - quietly, without recognition.
And it made me realize something else: there must be a way to help.
My book Storytellers are dogs, and their stories carry exactly this message. And if I
find a publisher for my upcoming work, I will dedicate part of the income to
supporting animal welfare - especially in places like Egypt, where even small
contributions can make a real difference. Compared to Europe, the cost of
helping is minimal, but the impact can be life-changing.
Sometimes, change doesn’t start with governments.
Sometimes, it starts with one person stopping in the street… and choosing
kindness. Choosing not to look away and ignore. Choosing to act with love and
compassion.
Also, if Egypt were to invest more of its resources into completing the many unfinished buildings - these ghost-like structures scattered across cities like Hurghada - and shape them with the same care and vision seen in the touristic boulevards, lined with well-designed hotels and supported by a modern, efficient airport, the transformation would be remarkable. It wouldn’t take much to elevate these places into something truly extraordinary.
Because the truth is, Egypt is already breathtaking. It doesn’t need to be reinvented - just completed, cared for, and respected. With thoughtful development, this country could easily feel like paradise, not only in its history, but in everyday life.
If the pharaohs, kings, and queens who built these magnificent temples thousands of years ago could see today’s unfinished and often chaotic architecture, they would probably be both astonished and embarrassed - and then quietly wonder how a civilization capable of building the pyramids ended up leaving so many projects… permanently under construction. And then immediately ask who approved these projects… before ordering them to be finished by sunset! It's really a shame! I'm glad that they don't witness what we have seen!
UPDATE: This mini-album marks my first step - and the foundation of a charity project dedicated to the often-overlooked, unloved street dogs of Egypt. Through this music, I hope not only to raise awareness, but to turn compassion into real support - providing food, water, and care for those who need it most.
