The Great Pyramids of Giza

One must pass through it by motorcar or leisurely come along to find Ancient Egypt at the Pyramids.
How small they appear from the long road that approaches them; did we come so far to see so little? But then they grow larger, as if they were being lifted up into the air; round a turn in the road we surprise the edge of the desert; and there suddenly the Pyramids confront us, bare and solitary in the sand, gigantic and morose against an Italian sky.
A motley crowd scrambles about their base stout business men, stouter ladies secure in carts, young men prancing on horseback, young women sitting uncomfortably on camel back, their silk knees glistening in the sun; and everywhere grasping Arabs.
We stand where Caesar and Napoleon stood, and remember that fifty centuries of Ancient Egypt look down upon us; where the Father of History came four hundred years before Caesar, and heard the tales that were to startle Pericles.
A new perspective of time comes to us; two millenniums seem to fall out of the picture, and Caesar, Herodotus and ourselves appear for a moment contemporary and modern before these tombs of ancient Egypt that were more ancient to them than the Greeks are to us.