Latest news with #kosharyarancini

Condé Nast Traveler

In Cairo, the Gems of the Past Are Polished for the Future

It's a warm Tuesday evening in April, and Mazeej Balad's rooftop restaurant is packed with well-dressed Cairenes eager to experience the neighborhood's newest arrival. Kareem Nabil and Ahmed Ganzoury, the Egyptian duo behind the recently opened Mazeej Balad boutique hotel, welcome guests and pose for photos before we sit down for a dinner of koshary arancini and pickled lemon hummus. They are the force behind some of Egypt's most glamorous parties and events, as well as a handful of hot spots like Kiki's Beach, an oceanfront club on the country's North Coast, the Mediterranean-facing sweep west of Alexandria where the summer party scene is beginning to rival that of Mykonos. But with the bijou Mazeej Balad, Nabil and Ganzoury have turned their attention firmly to the capital. The hotel is located on a frenetic Cairo street where dented taxis vie for space with men on bicycles balancing trays of flatbreads on their head. Mazeej Balad's doorman, in a red jacket and jaunty bow tie, cuts a dashing figure at the hotel entrance. Behind him a burgundy carpet flows over a marble staircase like spilled wine, guiding guests into the 129-year-old building that once housed the Hôtel-Pension Viennoise and an embassy of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Designer Omar Chakil with one of his modern canopic jars rendered in alabaster onyx Connor Langford The concept store and art gallery Cairopolitan Connor Langford The hotel's interiors have been reimagined by young Egyptian designer Malak Orfy. In the lobby a eucalyptus tree grows through the bottle-green-marble reception desk, light from a crystal chandelier reflects off the shiny checkerboard floor, and a sleek cantilevered staircase lures guests up to the rooftop. Ceiling frescoes featuring Egyptian abstract artist Kairo Lumumba's trademark squiggles lead to five individually designed suites. Artworks by other local and regional artists—figurative sculptures by Sam Shendi, abstract portraits by Sabhan Adam, among others—dot the rest of the hotel. 'From the start we wanted the interiors to feel like a dialogue between past and present,' says Nabil. 'The building already had so much to say. We just needed to listen.' I've been seduced by Cairo's intoxicating energy since I first visited on a solo trip 10 years ago: its crowded, dusty noisiness; its showstopping sights and ordinary backstreets; its heartbreakingly scruffy street cats and residents who broke into wide smiles whenever I made eye contact. On that trip I walked as much as possible—from the medieval citadel to Garden City on the banks of the Nile; from the leafy island of Zamalek to the busy bazaars of Khan el-Khalili—and I would jump into battered old taxis only when my legs got too tired or my shopping bags too heavy. A decade later it feels like everyone is talking about Cairo. Big projects are underway in and around the capital, like the much-anticipated Grand Egyptian Museum in Giza. It will join the salmon-hued neoclassical Egyptian Museum in Tahrir Square, which, for almost 125 years, has housed a large collection of pharaonic antiquities, including many of the treasures from Tutankhamen's tomb. When the new museum, which faces the Great Pyramid of Khufu and the Pyramid of Menkaure, officially opens later this year, it will be the largest archaeological museum in the world and no doubt a magnet for visitors both domestic and international. Adding to the regional buzz are new satellite cities with Dubai-style residential complexes that have sprung up around Cairo in an effort to decentralize the capital and reduce congestion. But what I find more compelling is the quieter change that is spreading throughout the city's downtown. The lobby and lounge area at the newly opened hotel Mazeej Balad in downtown Cairo Connor Langford A Cairo street scene Connor Langford Here, creatives and entrepreneurs are bringing life and beauty back to the handsome buildings that have fallen into disrepair and accumulated decades of dust. New places to stay, shop, and eat are calling people to spend time in the city's central neighborhoods, proving that innovation and preservation can coexist, that a modern sensibility can be compatible with a reverence for history. 'It doesn't need to be polished to be beautiful,' Nabil says of the neighborhood. 'My hope is that we keep its grit and its charm and just give it the love and attention it deserves.'