Scaling the Pyramids: When Tourists Climbed Egypt’s Ancient Monuments
By the mid-19th century, Egypt had become one of the world’s most fascinating destinations, drawing European and American travellers eager to see its ancient wonders firsthand. This was an era before heritage conservation laws, when visitors could do more than just marvel at the pyramids—they could climb them.
For decades, scaling the Great Pyramid of Giza was considered the pinnacle of a trip to Egypt, a challenge undertaken by adventurers, aristocrats, writers, and even early package tourists. The experience was recorded in journals, sketchbooks, and—by the late 19th century—through the lenses of the professional photographers who set up shop in the cities and archaeological sites along the Nile.
Egypt: The Land of the Pharaohs and Early Tourists
By the late 18th century, Egypt was little more than an impoverished, politically fragmented province of the Ottoman Empire. Its once-glorious monuments, some partially buried beneath the sand, attracted only the occasional intrepid European traveller. But in 1798, everything changed. Napoleon Bonaparte arrived with his army, accompanied by a contingent of scholars who documented the country’s ancient ruins in unprecedented detail. Their work, published as Description de l’Égypte, sparked a fascination with Egyptology that would only grow in the decades to come.
After the French withdrew, Egypt underwent a process of Westernisation under Muhammad Ali Pasha and his successors. Railways, mills, and European-style boulevards reshaped the landscape, and when the Suez Canal was completed in 1869, the country became more accessible than ever. Enterprising tour operators, most notably Thomas Cook, capitalised on the new ease of travel, offering package tours that took visitors down the Nile to explore the temples and tombs of ancient Egypt.
For the growing number of tourists, these trips were about more than just seeing the sights—they were about experiencing them. Few experiences were as thrilling as climbing the pyramids.
Egypt’s Ancient Monuments: A 19th-Century Playground
From the 1860s through the early 20th century, the pyramids of Giza were far from the protected monuments they are today. Tourists scrambled up their ancient limestone blocks, often with the help of local guides who offered assistance in exchange for baksheesh (a tip). Climbing the Great Pyramid, which rises to 146 metres (479 feet), was not for the faint-hearted. The ascent required scrambling over uneven stones, and the gaps between some of the blocks were nearly a metre high. Yet it was a challenge few visitors could resist.
For those who reached the top, the reward was spectacular: a sweeping view of the desert, the Nile, and the city of Cairo in the distance. Many sat on the summit to smoke a pipe, enjoy a picnic, or carve their initials into the stones—a practice that would horrify modern conservationists but was commonplace at the time. Some even attempted descents down the smooth casing stones of the pyramid’s sides, a dangerous stunt that occasionally led to injuries or fatalities.
Mark Twain, who visited in the 1860s, joked about his own experience, writing that he and his companions were "carried up bodily by three Arabs each" who hauled them "like so many bales of goods." British writer Amelia Edwards, who travelled through Egypt in the 1870s, described a moonlit ascent, recalling how her party reached the top just as dawn broke over the desert.
But perhaps the most famous pyramid climber of the 19th century was Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Best known for creating Sherlock Holmes, Conan Doyle visited Egypt in 1895 and climbed the Great Pyramid, later remarking that the experience left him with "an appreciation of eternity."
The Photographers of Egypt: Capturing a Golden Age
While tourists were busy clambering over pyramids, a different kind of visitor was drawn to Egypt: the photographers. The second half of the 19th century saw the rise of commercial photography, and Egypt became one of the most photographed destinations in the world.
Many photographers set up studios in Cairo, Alexandria, and Luxor, catering to the growing tourism trade. They produced sepia-toned prints of famous landmarks, selling them as souvenirs to travellers who wished to take a piece of Egypt home. Others followed in the footsteps of the early Egyptologists, documenting excavations and newly discovered tombs.
One of the most notable photographers of this era was Félix Bonfils, a Frenchman who arrived in Egypt in the 1860s. Bonfils’ images captured the grandeur of the pyramids, temples, and bustling streets of Cairo. His work was widely distributed in Europe, shaping how people who had never set foot in Egypt imagined the country.
Antonio Beato, an Italian photographer who settled in Luxor, also left behind an extensive body of work. He produced stunning images of ancient ruins and local people, often staging scenes that blended documentary photography with artistic composition. His photographs of tourists climbing the pyramids—tiny figures perched on the massive stone blocks—remain some of the most striking visual records of the era.
As photography advanced, the cumbersome wet-plate collodion process was replaced by lighter and more portable equipment, making it easier to capture candid moments. By the early 20th century, photographers working for newspapers and travel magazines were documenting not just the monuments, but the tourists themselves—climbing, posing, and often behaving in ways that would make modern heritage officials cringe.
The End of an Era
By the 1920s, Egypt’s approach to heritage conservation was changing. The growth of Egyptology as a serious academic discipline, combined with an increasing awareness of the damage caused by unchecked tourism, led to stricter regulations. The Egyptian government, under pressure from archaeologists, began restricting access to sites. By 1930, climbing the pyramids was officially prohibited, though enforcement remained sporadic for decades.
The age of uninhibited exploration was over. No longer could travellers carve their names into ancient stones or picnic atop one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. The rise of mass tourism meant that Egypt’s monuments had to be protected rather than simply admired.
Yet the photographs and accounts of those earlier travellers remain, offering a glimpse into a time when Egypt was both a playground and a wonderland—a land of discovery where one could stand atop a 4,500-year-old pyramid and feel, for a moment, like an explorer of old.