With some unexpected time off and the city blanketed by grey bleakness, I hopped on a plane and flew to Cairo for a few days to fulfil a dream I’ve had for almost a decade: to visit the Museum of Islamic Art.
Home to over 80,000 objects from across the Islamic world, the museum is a feast for the eyes. Having spent much time in the Islamic Galleries of both the British Museum and the Louvre, many of the pieces were familiar to me. However, the diversity of glassware , varying forms of ceramics, tapestries and woodwork was unlike anything I’d ever seen. As I sat alone (the museum was empty except for the staff) surrounded by Ottoman tiles, Egyptian mosque lamps and Persian rugs, and listening to Bach, nothing could prevent me from feeling pure, unadulterated joy.
2 hours of trying not to hop up and down and scream in delight later, I wandered back to my hotel with full heart. To live a life that allows me to fulfil my dreams once again leads me to feel like the luckiest person alive. So much gratitude.