Alexandria

Descending into Alexandria's Catacombs of Kom el-Shoqafa is rather like plunging into Egypt's eclectic, long-forgotten basement-if your basement happened to blend Greek, Roman, and Egyptian styles with the flair of a mildly eccentric aunt. Hidden beneath the bustling neighborhood of Karmouz, this historical rabbit hole was inadvertently rediscovered by a donkey (yes, really, a donkey) who got a little too curious back in 1900. Once inside, you'll wind through eerie passages marked by carvings of Roman soldiers awkwardly sporting Egyptian headdresses, statues that seem unsure whether Osiris or Zeus is calling the shots, and tombs blending mythology in glorious cultural confusion. Visit early-just after opening, around 9 a.m.-to dodge tour groups and enjoy that perfect balance of solitude and creeping claustrophobia. Budget about $5 to $10 for admission and, for sanity's sake, pack a flashlight, comfortable shoes, and your appreciation for the strange. Book a day ahead so your plans aren't left to rival archaeological enthusiasts who seem disturbingly fond of dead Romans. Ultimately, even if the thought of descending into ancient tombs makes you question your vacation choices, do it anyway-for bragging rights, glorious Instagram-worthy shots, and the priceless ability to say you've wandered through the one underground cemetery that began with a donkey's misstep.

Ras El Tin Palace sits perched, sumptuous and slightly smug, at the edge of Alexandria's harbor, quietly reminiscing about its days as the extravagant summer digs of Egypt's last royal monarch, King Farouk-an indulgent fellow who famously had a sweet tooth, a collection of flashy cars, and a lingering love of excess. Today, wandering through Ras El Tin feels like gatecrashing history itself, as you eye rooms once reserved for lavish banquets, diplomatic intrigue, and royal tantrums. Aim for early morning or late afternoon, when the Mediterranean sun bathes the palace's grand facade in Instagram-worthy golden light, without turning you into an uncomfortable puddle of tourist sweat. Remember to pack water, a hat, and enough Egyptian pounds (around 80-100 EGP per ticket, but slip in an extra note if you plan on charming a guard for secret anecdotes). Try planning at least a day ahead to navigate potential bureaucratic surprises (you don't become a royal haunt without a little regal red tape, after all). Sure, it's undeniably impressive for history buffs and architecture nerds alike-gleaming marble halls, chandeliers fit for a czar, the subtle echoes of long-forgotten courtly gossip-but honestly, even if palaces aren't usually your thing, Ras El Tin provides a fantastic story of decadence and downfall that'll have your friends back home hanging on your every exaggerated word.

Attempting to resurrect the ancient Library of Alexandria-a landmark famously torched to oblivion, possibly by Julius Caesar's clumsiness or religious zealots, depending on who you ask-is a bold move indeed, but the Bibliotheca Alexandrina somehow pulls it off with flair. Rising sharply from the Shatby waterfront like a half-submerged spaceship designed by scholarly aliens, this sleek architectural marvel boasts millions of books, rare manuscripts, rotating exhibitions, and even a planetarium-because why shouldn't your existential crisis include a detour through the cosmos? Swing by early in the morning (doors open at 10 am) when the hordes of selfie-wielding influencers are still guzzling cappuccinos, and you'll have enough peace and quiet to ponder humanity's eternal quest for knowledge-just don't expect to decode the mysteries of the universe in one morning. Plan your visit at least a day in advance, and bring ID, a notebook (to pretend you're jotting down profound insights), and about 100 Egyptian pounds for entry fees and a decent coffee fix. Sure, you might not emerge enlightened, but you will certainly leave with some solid cocktail-party trivia-and bragging rights for having visited humanity's most ambitious literary reboot.