Once travellers left the bustling decaying port of Alexandria they were absorbed into the atmosphere of the countryside, where the fellahin had followed the daily round according to the rhythm of the Nile since the time of the pharaohs. No matter which conqueror had invaded the land, later to recede as the tide, the life of the native Egyptians kept to its inexorable pattern, varied by the levels of harsh taxation levied to enrich the rulers.

On 5 October 1382, after a week of rest and sightseeing, Lionardo Frescobaldi and his companions prepared to set off for Cairo. Presumably the wine granted to them as a favour during their audience at the house of the chief amir had all been drunk, since the Tuscans asked the Venetian consul to fill up their barrel of malmsey for the journey.

Having paid an exit toll from the city of four ducats each, they were committed to their Muslim guide and interpreter, who with his son would conduct them to the Grand Interpreter, a Venetian renegade and high official at the court of the sultan Barquq. Sa‘id was then an old man of 70, and Simone Sigoli thought that he was, for a Saracen, quite a good man. He told Simone that in his life he had accompanied the pilgrims who went to St Catherine's and the Holy Sepulchre 67 times. One of the pilgrims he had so carefully looked after in 1347 was Niccolò di Poggibonsi on his journey to St Catherine's monastery (see Chapter 8 below).

The party rode away from Alexandria on asses with camels to transport their baggage. The road afforded a good view of the high walls, punctuated by towers and surrounded by moats. About a mile or more from the city, ‘in very great and immeasurable heat’, they reached Fuwa, the port on the canal that supplied the sweet water to Lake Mareotis and Alexandria.