In addition to my “Buzz’s Bedtime Stories,” I’m launching a new series for the sheer fun of it: “Buzz’s Travelogues.” These are short, personal snapshots from a lifetime of world travels as an Air Force pilot. I’ve been fortunate to see more corners of the globe than most, often under unusual circumstances. Some stories are wild, some are quiet, but all of them left a mark. This one takes us back to Cairo, Egypt, and a memorable aircrew detour to the pyramids of Giza—complete with camels, shenanigans, and a classic tourist hustle.
Back in my C-141 Starlifter days, we moved everything the military needed: tanks, troops, beans, bullets, and the occasional high-speed, low-drag operators from SEALs or Delta Force. One particular mission dropped us into Cairo for joint exercises with the Egyptian Air Force. Think Bright Star vibes—desert warfare training, long-range ops, and just enough downtime to turn a work trip into an adventure.
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We’d flown punishing legs across the Atlantic and Mediterranean, battling strange hours, stranger food, and that constant soothing engine roar, like a baby’s blanket, that only fellow aircrew truly understand. When the wheels finally touched down at Cairo West, it felt like stepping into a history book. The air was thick with heat that pressed right through your flight suit. Sand coated everything. The unmistakable mix of jet fuel and desert dust hung in the air like a welcome banner.
Our Egyptian hosts rolled out genuine hospitality: strong tea, big smiles, and a tent city that reminded us we weren’t exactly at the Hilton. Mission briefs wrapped early one afternoon, leaving us with a rare golden window of free time.
🇪🇬 A rare 1880s photograph shows tourists and local Egyptian guides climbing the Great Pyramid of Giza.
— AFRICA VS EUROPE (@_africavseurope) May 30, 2026
Back then, scaling the pyramid was a popular attraction for wealthy travelers visiting Egypt. pic.twitter.com/bkMic7lj7f
“Pyramids?” I asked the crew. Every hand shot up instantly. “Hell yes!”
We crammed into a couple of vans and headed east toward Giza. The drive through Cairo itself was pure chaos and entertainment. No visible lanes, horns blaring nonstop, cars weaving like it was a contact sport. Pedestrians, donkey carts, and taxis all fought for the same space.
Then, without warning, the city sprawl parted and there they were—the Great Pyramid of Khufu rising majestically against the desert sky. After 4,500 years, it still commands awe. My co-pilot, a big Southern boy fresh from the Air Force Academy, could only whisper, “Damn.”
The oldest known photo of the Sphynx taken in 1880 pic.twitter.com/plXokAqnkS
— 📜Echoes of Empire📜 (@EchoesofEmpire_) May 24, 2026
The Sphinx sat sentinel nearby, staring out across the plateau with that timeless, knowing gaze. We hired a couple of Bedouin-style guides and their camels right on the sand. My internal radar pinged—tourist trap ahead—but we were pilots on liberty. “What the hell,” I figured. “Let’s do it.”
Mounting those camels was comedy gold. Our loadmaster, built like he could wrestle cargo pallets all day, nearly slid off the back when his camel lurched upward. The rest of the crew howled with laughter. The few warm beers we’d smuggled and enjoyed in the van certainly didn’t help our balance. Soon, we were rocking along in that signature camel gait—side to side, almost hypnotic—heading straight toward the pyramids.
From camelback, the scale of the pyramids becomes almost incomprehensible. Massive limestone blocks, perfectly aligned, stacked by ancient hands long turned to dust. The late afternoon sun painted the stones in warm gold tones, shadows stretching dramatically across the dunes.
We posed for photos (this was pre-iPhone era, so real cameras with actual film) with the Sphinx in the background: three pilots, two flight engineers, and two loadmasters, all still sporting helmet hair under flight suits. We looked like a National Geographic cover gone slightly military.
One of the younger flight engineers rode up beside me, eyes wide. “Damn, sir, we flew halfway around the world in a 141 just to ride camels at the pyramids.” I grinned back, and said, “Isn’t it great?”
That moment—dust in the air, laughter echoing, history all around us—captured exactly why I loved the life.
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We timed it perfectly. The light was magical. But as we headed back toward the vans, the mood shifted. A few of us dismounted easily. Two crew members, however, found themselves stuck. The camel herders suddenly demanded more money before letting them down. Classic desert hustle. It was getting darker, we were far from base, and we had limited Egyptian pounds (we jokingly called them “scoots” because none of us ever nailed the exchange rate). We anted up, shook our heads, and laughed about it later.
That night back at the tent city, swapping exaggerated stories over warm drinks, it all crystallized. The C-141 didn’t just haul cargo—it delivered men into moments that stay with you forever. From the flight deck of a Starlifter to the swaying back of a camel beneath the Pyramids of Giza. Not a bad detour in any pilot’s logbook.
These are the experiences that make the long hours, strange places, and occasional sand in your boots worth every minute. It puts you in the middle of a good book.
What’s your favorite “we landed somewhere crazy and did this” memory? Drop it in the comments below—I’ve got plenty more travelogues where this one came from.
