The attendant, Samir, unlocked the wooden door to the minaret and left me to go in alone. I had taken off my shoes to cross the threshold, but he explained I would need them again for the minaret climb. As I walked unaccompanied up the stone steps in the half-light, avoiding assorted debris, I felt a bit like I was trespassing. But this wasn't a private part of Cairo's Mosque of al-Ghouri - the minaret is open to any visitors who want to see it. It's just that not many do.
Once on the roof I was able to look out across the mass of sand-coloured houses and shops towards the citadel and the Muqattam hills. From there a spiral staircase – I had to feel my way up part of it because it was pitch black – took me to a balcony about three-quarters of the way up the minaret. A creaky ladder led to the level at which the muezzin, in the days before loudspeakers, would have made his call to prayer. I decided not to risk it. Instead I just sat and looked at what could have been a vision from the middle ages: the narrow street below, crammed with goods for sale – huge bales of cotton, clothes and carpets – and people walking to and fro between the market and the old city gates.
The idea of being immersed in the past is something that tempts millions of tourists to Egypt each year. The country's ancient heritage, is, of course, the big draw, but the problem with this is that the rest of its history can get overlooked. The past may be Egypt's greatest selling point, but Luxor and the Pyramids don't cover the fact that, since the 9th century, Egypt has been one of the great centres of Islamic civilisation.
Cairo, in particular, is somewhere that many people on the tourist trail see as, at best, a necessary evil. Many limit their experience of it to the coach ride from one of the mammoth hotels downtown to the Giza plateau. But that's a shame, because the area is home to not one, but two world heritage sites. In the same year as UNESCO put the pyramids on its list of globally important historic places, it added another – Islamic Cairo, dominated by mosques, souks and city walls.
OK, the city can be noisy and hectic, but then so can London, New York and Rome. Cairo is what it is – a bustling metropolis, and the largest city in the Middle East. If that's what you come prepared for, there's no reason you won't love it.
The world heritage site covers an area that stretches from Saladin's citadel in the south to the Bab al-Futuh, or Gate of Conquests, in the north. That's where the greatest density of Islamic monuments – of which there are about 800 – can be found. In terms of the sheer number of historic buildings crammed into a small area it's a bit like Florence or Oxford. The difference is that Islamic Cairo hosts far fewer tourists (at least in October, when I was there, theoretically at the beginning of the high season). The only place you'll find them by the coachload is up near Khan al-Khalili, a 700-year-old souk that has been largely taken over by souvenir sellers.
About a mile south-west of Khan al-Khalili city stands the Mosque of Ibn Tulun, one of Egypt's earliest surviving Islamic monuments. Built in 879, it's essentially a huge cloister, a cool and quiet retreat from the city outside. Towering over the courtyard is a minaret that Ahmad Ibn Tulun, who built the mosque, based on the spiral minaret at Samarra, near Baghdad, which was in turn inspired by Mesopotamian ziggurats. You can climb it, but you have to leave the central enclosure and walk round the recently restored "moat" separating the mosque from its outer wall. From the top, on a clear day, you can see the great pyramid of Giza out to the west. You might also spot another typical Cairene sight: someone whistling and waving a flag from a rooftop cabin. It's not a political protest, but a pigeon fancier calling his flock in to roost.
From Ibn Tulun, passing several smaller mosques along the way, you can walk along as-Salbiyya street to Salah ad-Din square and the giant Mosque of Sultan Hasan, which sits with its twin, the 19th-century Mosque of ar-Rifai, just in front of the citadel. This is probably one of the greatest works of architecture in the city – a giant, fortress-like place of worship and centre of learning, dating from the middle of the 14th century. A dark passageway leads from the entrance to the courtyard, an awe-inspiring space framed on four sides by huge stone arches, from the top of which dangle hundreds of lamps. I was lucky enough to find myself almost completely alone in this building, and, screened from the noise and heat outside, it felt like I had stepped into another world.
There are literally hundreds of other mosques, Khanqahs (Sufi gathering places), hamams and houses to visit – some run down, some newly restored, some busy, some deserted. Stop in at the 14th-century Mosque of al-Maridani on at-Tabana street and you'll find beautiful wooden screens shielding the prayer hall from the leafy courtyard outside. Look closely at the columns and you'll realise they're a bit out of place – the lotus-leaf capitals betray the fact that like many of the materials used to build medieval Cairo, they were pilfered from Pharaonic sites.
In this part of the city, visitors are welcomed into mosques, just as they would be into historic churches in Europe. In a country where mosque attendance is a part of everyday life, there isn't as much reverence for these places as you might think. Plenty of people use them as places to cool off or sleep and kids fight and play in the courtyards, particularly during the big gatherings of worshippers on a Friday. Sitting quietly in the Mosque of al-Ashraf Barsbay, trying to look as unobtrusive as possible, I was a bit surprised when an Egyptian loudly answered his mobile in the middle of the courtyard ("Hello? Yeah. I'm in a mosque.")
Having said that, a bit of sensitivity is obviously required. Always remove your shoes before entering and aim to dress, as the guidebooks put it, modestly. If you don't have a bag to carry them in, you can stow your shoes in pigeonholes at the door, but you'll be expected to give a couple of Egyptian pounds to the attendant when you pick them up. It's also best to avoid prayer times and midday on Friday, when there may also be a sermon – unless of course, you're a Muslim and want to join in.
So if you're visiting Egypt in search of history and architecture consider an alternative to the temples and tombs. Were Islamic Cairo not attached to one of the biggest cities in the world, with all that has to offer, it would be world-famous in its own right, a historic gem. As it is, it offers a connection to the past more intimate and intense than anything on the Egyptian tourist superhighway.
Getting there
Cairo has the full spectrum of hotels, from the word-of-mouth successes like the Pension Roma (lots of old world charm and very cheap, but no air conditioning) to the obligatory Hiltons and Marriotts by the Nile. I stayed downtown in the Grand, a dilapidated 1930s building close to the Rivoli cinema. Islamic Cairo is a 10-minute (and E£10 - £1.05) taxi ride away.
Pension Roma: 169 Muhammad Farid Street, from E£50 (£5.25) per night for a single room
Grand Hotel: 17, 26th of July Street, from E£250 (£30) per night for a single room
Hilton Ramses: 1115 Corniche El Nile; +20 2 2577 7444. Rooms from $99 (£58) per person
BA flies daily to Cairo, with flights in high season around £350 return
