What to pack for Cairo in March

UV index hits 8.6 in March, high enough to burn exposed skin in under an hour.

Glare off sand and limestone bounces light into your eyes from every angle.

Insects breed year-round in Cairo's warm climate and bite through thin fabric.

Check ankles and, if there's a dog, paws and ears every night.

Cuts from ancient ruins and scrapes from uneven pavements happen faster than you plan for.

Tap water isn't safe here. A filter bottle beats buying plastic twice a day.

This country runs on Type C or F. Get one with USB-C so you're not fighting over the single outlet.

Daylight runs twelve hours and museums close at sunset, so a power bank keeps your phone lit for navigation after dark.

Set it up before you land. Signal drops for long stretches outside cities.

Overhead bins fill fast on international routes, so a 35-45L bag fits without checking.

Museums, markets, and ruins mean carrying water, sunscreen, and a camera all day long.

Fits the overhead on every airline that matters. Skip the checked-bag line entirely.

Desert wind at 18 km/h blows sand into every gap around your face and neck.

Sweat cools fast in dry air, but moisture-wicking keeps salt from crusting on skin.

UV hits 8.6 here. Long sleeves beat reapplying sunscreen every hour.

For temples, mosques, and churches that check at the door.

Twelve hours of daylight with nowhere to hide means your scalp and ears need shade.

Treat the clothes once and it lasts weeks.

Tap water isn't safe and dehydration in dry heat sneaks up before you feel thirsty.

Unfamiliar food and water trigger digestive trouble that stops your sightseeing cold.

One brick charges the laptop, phone, and camera.

Hotel and cafe wifi is shared with everyone else in the building. A VPN keeps your banking and email to yourself.

Crowded markets and transit stations attract pickpockets who work fast and quiet.

Bags disappear in airports and taxis in Cairo, so tracking one saves the whole trip.

Sand works into seams and pockets, so cubes keep clean clothes separate from dirty gear.

One week between laundry days in Cairo means lightweight clothes dry fast when hand-washed.

Airport noise and the call to prayer at dawn mean silence becomes a luxury you can control.

Highs of 77°F mean shorts are the only sensible option for walking the city.

Lips crack and bleed in desert air, then the sun burns the raw skin underneath.

Restrooms are rare and hand-washing water is questionable, so sanitizer closes the gap.

Sunburned skin swells around insect bites and scratching makes both worse at once.

One outlet per room means cables matter more than you'd think for charging rotation.

A few phrases go a long way. Ten minutes a day before you leave is plenty.

Sand gets into everything, including passport pages, so a sealed holder protects documents.

Luggage moves through multiple hands at the airport, and locks deter casual theft.

Humidity is low but dust is high, so a hanging bag keeps toiletries clean and organized.

Long flights to Cairo and early sunrise make a pillow the difference between rest and exhaustion.