Pyramid of Khafre

Feel the sand under your shoes. It is coarse and pale, and it gives a little with every step. Now lift your eyes. Ahead of you, a mountain of stone rises out of the desert. Near the very top, something looks different. A smooth, pale cap still clings to the peak, like a sleeve of old skin. That cap is the last surviving trace of the polished casing that once covered this entire pyramid. You are standing before the Pyramid of Khafre, the second great pyramid of Giza.

Khafre was a king of Egypt's Fourth Dynasty. He ruled in the twenty-sixth century BCE, during the age that historians call the Old Kingdom. He was a son of Khufu, the king who built the Great Pyramid beside you. So these two monuments belong to one family. A father and a son, each building a tomb meant to last forever. Standing here, you can see both of them, side by side, against the same sky.

Here is the first surprise. Many visitors leave Giza convinced that this pyramid is the tallest. It is not. The Great Pyramid of Khufu was built larger. But Khafre's builders placed his pyramid on higher bedrock, and its sides rise at a slightly steeper angle. The surviving casing at the summit also makes the point look sharp and complete. From many angles, the son's tomb seems to stand above the father's. Whether that was planned, nobody can say for certain. But the effect still works on everyone who walks here.

Look closely at the blocks in front of you. They are rough, yellowish limestone, cut from quarries on the Giza plateau itself. Today you see the inner core, stepped and weathered. Once, the whole surface was dressed in fine white limestone, cut so smoothly that the pyramid would have shone in the sun. Over the centuries, much of that casing was stripped away and reused as building stone in the growing city nearby. Only the cap near the top escaped.

Now look down, toward the base. Archaeologists believe the lowest layers of casing were made from red granite, carried from Aswan, far to the south up the Nile. A few granite blocks still lie around the foot of the pyramid. Imagine the contrast. Dark red stone at the bottom, pale gleaming limestone rising above it, and a point catching the first light of morning. This was not a grey ruin. It was a polished object, designed to be seen from a great distance.

The pyramid was never meant to stand alone. It was the centre of a whole sacred complex. On its eastern side stood a mortuary temple, where priests made offerings to the dead king. From there, a long causeway ran down the slope toward the edge of the green valley. At the bottom stood the valley temple, close to the river's old floodplain. Funeral rites probably passed along this route. Today you can still trace the line of that causeway across the sand.

Follow that line, and you reach one of the most famous faces on Earth. The Great Sphinx lies beside the causeway, carved directly out of the bedrock. Most Egyptologists link the Sphinx to Khafre, partly because of its position within his complex. No inscription settles the question completely, so keep a little doubt in mind. Still, it is a striking thought. The lion with a human face may have been made to guard this king's road to eternity.

The valley temple is worth your time. Its walls and square pillars are made of massive blocks of red granite, fitted together with great precision. There are no carvings and no paintings. The beauty comes from the stone itself, and from the clean straight lines. In 1860, the French archaeologist Auguste Mariette found a seated statue of Khafre in this temple. The king sits on a throne, and a falcon representing the god Horus spreads its wings behind his head. That statue now rests in Cairo.

Now, the inside. On the north face of the pyramid, there are two entrances. One is cut into the face itself, and another lies lower, in the ground in front of the pyramid. Passages slope down into the rock, then level out and lead to the burial chamber. The air inside is warm and still. The corridors are low, and you may need to bend as you walk. If you have a fear of tight spaces, this is something to think about before you go in.

Here is the second surprise. The ancient Greek writer Herodotus visited Egypt in the fifth century BCE. He claimed that this pyramid had no underground chambers at all. He was wrong. In 1818, the Italian explorer Giovanni Belzoni found the way in. When he reached the burial chamber, he found a granite sarcophagus set into the floor. It was already empty. Robbers had arrived thousands of years before him. Belzoni painted his name in large letters on the chamber wall, and you can still see it today.

Inside the burial chamber, look up. The ceiling is made from huge limestone slabs leaning against each other, forming a pointed gable. This shape helped carry the enormous weight of stone above. Think about that for a moment. Over your head is a mountain of rock, millions of tonnes of it, and it has held for over four thousand years. The room is plain and quiet. There are no paintings and no texts on the walls. Only stone, and the silence of a very old space.

Step back outside, and take a slow walk around the base. Notice how the light changes on each face as the sun moves. In the morning, the eastern side glows warm and gold. By late afternoon, the western face turns soft and amber, and the shadows on the steps grow deep. Listen too. You will hear camel bells, the calls of guides, the wind moving sand across stone. The plateau has always been a place of people, not only of the dead.

On the western side, look out across the sand. Here, the desert opens wide, with nothing but dunes toward the horizon. To the ancient Egyptians, the west was the land of the dead, where the sun set each evening. Khafre's builders placed his tomb on this edge for a reason. Behind you lies the living city. Ahead of you lies the empty desert. The pyramid stands exactly between the two worlds.

Before you leave, turn around one last time. Find that pale cap near the summit again. It is a small patch of stone, but it shows you how the whole pyramid once looked. Every block below it was placed by human hands, with ropes, sledges, and a great deal of patience. As you walk away across the sand, glance back now and then. Watch the point catch the light. The king is long gone... but his mountain is still here.