Wednesday, February 13, 1929
Our train left at 8:35AM and my friend the guide was on have to say farewell and ask me to fix it up with the U.S. government so he could come to America. At Lydda the express was waiting to carry us across the dusty desert of Sinai. The warm sun made things very nice. In back of us were four prisoners, handcuffed and in charge of a policeman. Their passports for Palestine had expired and they were being taken back to Cairo. The passport officials were a nuisance. One came at us like we were a herd of cattle and Mort and I lit in on him right, telling him what we thought of the foolish system and his manners. I asked him what it was to him where I went to school, how many days we would be in Cairo, etc. Mort told him he didn’t like his tone of voice nor his frown, so then we had service with a smile.
The usual mob of hotel agents descended in the Port Said station. We rode in the bus to the Continental free, where we got our rooms for 40 piastres for all. I have less than 25 suds to last me this month and had better not go to Luxor after all but hold down the Port till the boys come home. I’ll get the dope on prices tomorrow but not much hope as I have to be financially OK for India.