Egypt’s visitor numbers are supposed to be rising. But today, on a scorching hot day in the middle of the holy month of Ramadan, in the middle of Cairo, the outlook for the local tourism industry doesn’t seem particularly positive.

The number of visitors in the courtyard entrance to the largest museum in Egypt, the Museum of Egyptian Antiquities in Cairo, seems to indicate that things are not looking that much better than after the revolution, when tourist numbers fell sharply.

Egypt’s visitor numbers are supposed to be rising. But today, on a scorching hot day in the middle of the holy month of Ramadan, in the middle of Cairo, the outlook for the local tourism industry doesn’t seem particularly positive.

The number of visitors in the courtyard entrance to the largest museum in Egypt, the Museum of Egyptian Antiquities in Cairo, seems to indicate that things are not looking that much better than after the revolution, when tourist numbers fell sharply.

Compared to the same time in previous years there seem to be fewer tourists here. And it’s hard to know whether this is still caused by fears of insecurity after the revolution or by the negative impact of things like a recent television advertising campaign that accused foreigners in Egypt of spying; those advertisements, whose motivation was unclear, told foreigners not to trust outsiders in case they meddled in Egyptian affairs. The ads were withdrawn by state television for fear that they were being “misunderstood”.

Today, most of the tourists present at the museum are either Italian or Korean. There didn’t seem to be many other groups around. Then, not far from the entrance, I noticed one lone tourist who seemed to know exactly what she was doing.

So I approached her and introduced myself as a journalist. And when I asked Agnes, who seemed to be in her 30s, more about herself, she told me she came from Hamburg, Germany and that she was a museums expert who was taking a few days off to explore Cairo.

Agnes is one of many. Tourism is one of the most important earners of foreign revenue for the Egyptian economy. But since the revolution in 2011, that saw the government of former Egyptian leader Hosni Mubarak toppled, this industry, which contributes around 11 percent to the country’s gross domestic product and provides jobs for around three million Egyptians, has suffered.

Visitor numbers fell by an estimated third and local authorities suggest that about 300,000 Egyptians may have lost their jobs as a result. But recent figures are more optimistic and show that tourists have started to return to Egypt, the land where package tourism began in 1869 when Briton Thomas Cook organized one of the first ever package tours, including a Nile river cruise, of a country.

But what does the situation on the ground, in Cairo, really look like?

When I told Agnes about our German connection – and my work for a journalist’s training website based in Berlin – she agreed to allow me to accompany her on her travels around the capital.

Agnes arrived in Cairo two days earlier and she was staying with a friend in an apartment in the small, green and affluent Garden City neighbourhood of Cairo, nearby Tahrir Square, the site of many revolutionary protests over the past year as well as conflict and violence of various kinds.

She described her timing as fantastic. She was visiting during the holy Islamic month of Ramadan, during which most religious Muslims fast during the day, abstaining from food, water or sexual relations so they can focus on spirituality. Around the time of evening prayers, the fast is broken with Muslim families and friends gathering together for a meal.

But Ramadan meant something different to Agnes; it meant that the roads were empty, with no rush hour in the early morning. You could stay in the museums longer due to the smaller crowds and there was more opportunity to focus on the sights, she said.

The only problem was that some businesses were closed during Ramadan. Agnes says she was surprised that many central city stores, normally a magnet for tourists, were also closed.

As we left the museum and walked onto Tahrir Square we encountered a traffic jam there. But there was not a single traffic officer around. At this stage, Agnes spoke to me about her feelings of insecurity in the area. “Men in Egypt generally stare at me for too long even though, as you can see, I am wearing a long dress with sleeves,” she told me.

We also spoke about Tahrir Square, a location which has become shorthand for many of the other Arab spring protests that happened around the region.

“This square doesn’t tally with the image that now comes to mind, thanks to media coverage of the Egyptian revolution,” Agnes explained. “There seem to be a lot of peddlers around the square and even the park in the middle looks like it’s filled with rubbish,” she noted.

From the middle of Tahrir Square we head down another central street, Talaat Harb street, and Agnes asked me about the large number of beggars and peddlers in the central city.

Was this because of the economic crisis that had occurred after the revolution?, she queried. But I explained that after the revolution, the security forces had left the downtown area uncontrolled and all sorts of random commercial activities now took place here. That was what accounted for the peddlers and beggars.

Agnes talked about the positive aspects of the Egyptian revolution and how good it was that the protestors had toppled a dictator like Mubarak. She did however describe the Islamist politicians, who have just been voted into power by the Egyptian people, as “religious dictators”. After that she also said she did not fear for the country’s future. As she spoke, I admit that I quietly wondered to myself how concerns about religious politicians and a positive outlook for the nation sat so easily side by side.  

As we walked, we looked for a cafe where we could sit and converse. But many of the cafes here, which would have been open every day last year, even during Ramadan, were closed during Ramadan this year.

Agnes stopped at one of many peddlers on the street selling scarves and decided to buy one, asking my advice about the best colours. At first the vendor wanted EGP20 (about US$3.20) for a scarf. I tried not to interfere with the transaction. The bargaining was tough and ended with Agnes buying the scarf for EGP5 (around US$0.80).

For me, this was an interesting situation too. The vendor tried to bring me into the haggling, saying that as fellow Egyptians we should be helping one another.

Afterwards Agnes complained about the salesman’s attitude. “Everyone says hello to foreigners,” she remarked. “But then they try to cheat you on prices.”

Not far away, we found a corner café with chairs scattered on the sidewalk. However, as we tried to sit there, the waiter told us to leave because it was Ramadan. He did this even though it was clear that Agnes was a foreigner and I explained that I was a Christian and so did not fast. But he was irritated by us and cursed all foreigners and me. Drawn by the heated exchange, a crowd of passers-by had started to gather so to avoid any other trouble, Agnes and I left.

And actually I didn’t try to explain to Agnes what had just happened because it seemed rather awkward to me. Instead I took her to Mohammed Mahmoud street to see the revolutionary graffiti that’s still there. Much of the street art near the nearby university campus honours protesters, like Mina Daniel, who died during the revolution.

As I explained some of the stories behind the graffiti and slogans, Agnes compared them with the ancient Egyptian wall inscriptions and drawings that she had studied at university.

The difference between the portrayed revolution symbols like Mina Daniel, and what we went through was so great. 

Shortly after we looked at the graffiti Agnes excused herself: she had to go and meet her friend. As we parted ways, I felt strangely unrelaxed, even a little uptight. I think I was feeling a little part of what it must be like to be a German tourist on Tahrir Square, in the noonday heat on a Ramadan day.