My tired hands were cramping, pulling the two heavy Armani suitcases across the rough limestone floor. When I finally reached the huge cast iron gate surrounded by the tall stone pillars, two guards came out and looked at me suspiciously. I spoke to them in Arabic, trying to explain to them I knew the pharaoh’s son, Akhanamenoon and was in Egypt only for one night. I was determined to spend the night at the beautiful pala...