Egypten

Cairo is magnificent, where you’ll hear an array of sounds from donkey carts rattling down lanes to the muezzins' call to prayer from duelling minarets.

The southern coast of the Gulf of Aqaba, between Tiran Island and Ras Mohammed National Park, features some of the world’s most amazing underwater scenery. The crystal-clear waters and incredible variety of exotic fish darting in and out of the colourful coral reefs have made this a scuba-diving paradise. Purpose-built Sharm El Sheikh occupies a prime position here, devoting itself solely to sun-and-sea holidays offering a family-friendly vibe and resort comforts, with world-class diving thrown in.

Technically all of Cairo on the west bank of the Nile is Giza, though the name is inextricably linked with the Pyramids, 9km from the river, on the edge of the desert. Truly time-strapped sightseers could conceivably stay out here and bypass Cairo entirely, but that’s missing a lot of the fun. More realistically, you’ll probably come out here on a day outing. Sharia Al Haram (Pyramids Rd) leads straight to the site and the village of Nazlet As Samaan at its base and south of Pyramids Rd.

Anyone interested in seeing the colossal rock-cut temples without the crowds, visiting Lake Nasser, or listening to Nubian music should hang around in this small Nubian town.

For a brief period following the Egypt–Israel peace treaty of 1979, a thriving Israeli tourism trade meant Tarabin (Nuweiba's waterfront beach-camp area) could claim rivalry to Dahab as Sinai’s hippy beach paradise. However, the vagaries of the regional politics over recent decades have meant Israeli travellers, for the most part, shun Sinai. So while Sharm boomed and Dahab grew steadily into a low-key resort, Nuweiba which stretches over 15km, was left to function primarily as a port for the Aqaba-bound ferry to Jordan. It's a shame because it could easily be the mellow beach-camp paradise that Dahab was a decade ago.

Founded in 331 BC by 25-year-old Alexander the Great, Alexandria (Al Iskendariyya) is the stuff of legend. Its towering Pharos lighthouse, marking the ancient harbour's entrance, was one of the Seven Wonders of the World, and its Great Library was considered the archive of ancient knowledge. Alas, fate dealt the city a spate of cruel blows. The Pharos collapsed and the Great Library was torched. Part of the ancient city disappeared under the sea and part under the modern city, so there are few visible remains of the glorious past.

The Suez Canal, Egypt’s glorious triumph of engineering over nature, dominates this region, slicing through the sands of the Isthmus of Suez for 163km, not only severing mainland Egypt from Sinai but also Africa from Asia. The canal was the remarkable achievement of Egypt’s belle époque, an era buoyed by grand aspirations and finished by bankruptcy and broken dreams. This period also gave birth to the canalside cities of Port Said and Ismailia. Today their streets remain haunted by this fleeting age of grandeur, their distinctive architecture teetering on picturesque disrepair.

Luxor is often called the world’s greatest open-air museum, but that comes nowhere near describing this extraordinary place. Nothing in the world compares to the scale and grandeur of the monuments that have survived from ancient Thebes.

Plucked from obscurity during the early days of the Red Sea’s tourism drive, the fishing village of Hurghada has long since morphed into today’s dense band of concrete that marches along the coastline for more than 20km. Still, it's a convenient destination for combining a diving holiday with the Nile Valley sites. Further offshore there is still superb diving aplenty; local NGOs are helping the town clean up its act, and the southern resort area and Sigala's sparklingly modern marina have brought back some of Hurghada's sheen.

In its late-19th-century raffish heyday, Port Said was Egypt’s city of vice and sin. The boozing seafarers and packed brothels may have long since been scrubbed away, but this louche period is evoked still in the waterfront’s muddle of once-grand architecture slowly going to seed.