A week ago, an informal group of Egyptian train lovers attempted to bring the deteriorating state of a railway museum to the attention of the authorities, bombarding them with faxes highlighting the museum's condition. Al-Masry Al-Youm decided to investigate the situation of Egypt's forgotten railway treasures. It all started with the idea of linking India and Europe. The year was 1833, and Mohamed Ali Pasha was considering a suggestion by the British to build a railway from Suez to Ain Shams. The idea was abandoned, but a little over twenty years later, the first railway in Africa connected Cairo and Alexandria. The events that led up to such a momentous achievement and the ones that followed it, as the history of Egypt's railway, is a matter of varying concern for the little known Railway Museum at Cairo's central train station, at Ramsis Square. Why varying? Perhaps more than any other Egyptian museum, this is one that appears to have perfected the ability to simultaneously impress, and depress. The museum itself, open to visitors since 1933, is shrouded in an aura of near secretiveness, with only a small engraved sign marking its otherwise unnoticeable entrance. Squashed between Platform 1 of the central train station and the station's far right facade, opposite Ramsis Square, one of the busiest places in the world, entering the premises within seems to magically block out all cacophonous sounds coming from outside. On the one hand, it boasts an impressive selection of model-sized trains, usually well-labeled in Arabic and English (sometimes in French too), and the museum does a superb job of documenting the history and development of locomotion. From the first steam engines, to Egypt's first imported trains, the evolution from running on coal, to mazot and then to diesel, as well as more modern train models, the museum offers a unique historical perspective on the original propellers of modernity. Likewise, a real locomotive demonstrates in detail how steam engines work. The highlight of the museum then comes: the exquisite private locomotive of Khedive Said, tucked away in a corner of the museum. Visitors can even climb aboard the opulent single carriage, sit on the leather-bound seats and marvel at the intricately designed ceiling. Guides are available, or alternatively, you can purchase the 134-page Railway Museum Catalog for LE8, if you want the story behind the story. Trinkets and other items of a bygone era are in ample supply: fancy, first class ticket stubs from the 1920s and the machines that made them, rusty oil-based lanterns used in train stations of old, a fan from the 1940s, an archaic signaling system, and shovels used to move coal into the furnace. Possibly most impressive, however, at least for the photographically inclined, are the dozens upon dozens of glass-plate photographs hung on each of the pillars holding up this two-story museum. Capturing images of Egyptian social life and transportation from as far back as the 1880s, with most at least 100 years old, these are pictures that will not be found anywhere else--not online, nor in some hidden archive. It's at this point that the museum starts to disappoint. Many, if not most of these highly unique pictures, which were developed on glass plates without negatives, are either cracked, missing pieces, unlit, or heavily faded. The images are displayed with small light bulbs illuminating each one from behind. The light bulbs themselves, when they work, are, according to this writer's guide at the museum, a hazard to the images themselves, causing too much heat which fades the pictures over time. The guide said that the museum is desperate to find a specialist to scan the plates (ideally pro bono) before it's too late. Equally distressing are letters dating back to the late 1840s from England to Abbas Pasha, confirming the first shipments for the building of the railway. The distressing part lies in that these letters and myriad others are fixed on a table under a piece of glass, and have been lying in that position possibly since the museum was opened almost 80 years ago. A guide at the museum said, “The problem is that if we try to remove them, they'll immediately transform to powder as soon as they interact with the air.” There are likewise entire libraries of books, documents and manuscripts detailing the history of the railway in Egypt, all locked away in old cabinets, out of sight. The situation has led to an informal group of Egyptian train lovers to speak up. Made up of ten core members from Cairo, Alexandria, Kafr el-Sheikh and elsewhere, they hoped to bring the museum's deteriorating condition to the attention of the authorities by sending faxes to the ministers of transport and culture, the National Railway Authority and the Secretary General of Supreme Council of Antiquities, Zahi Hawass, highlighting the current dire situation of the museum. The fact that they've received no response does not daunt them. “You know how it is with bureaucracies,” says Amr Nasr el-Din, one of the core group members. For el-Din, the museum is not only a source of cultural heritage and a wealth of information, but also potentially a significant income for the railway authority not being utilized. “You have old train carriages being used for historical trips everywhere in the world,” says el-Din, “and in countries even poorer than our own. Why not make use of these carriages and renovate them or make replicas, rather than leave them to fall apart?” The idea has been considered by the museum, though as yet it has not received the go-ahead. For now, with the entire Cairo station under renovation, there are promises of an overhaul. But if history is anything to go by, it may take the enthusiasm and persistence of train buffs like el-Din to see any positive change through. The Railway Museum, at Cairo's central train station, Ramsis Square Open everyday: 8 PM - 2 PM Entrance: LE5 Egyptians, LE10 foreigners Prices doubles on Fridays
