The relic of Bir Hooker: How it all began
Gregor Spörri has been running a company for discotheque equipment, concepts and design since 1978. In the spring of 1988, the then 33-year-old Swiss traveled to Egypt. First he will dive for wrecks in the Red Sea. He then searches the country’s historical sites for inspiration for a Pharaonic-style disco interior. And last but not least, he wants to track down a mysterious force that has allegedly been at work in the Great Pyramid of Giza for thousands of years. Both diving and the photo safari across the country are a welcome counterbalance to his strenuous working life for the Basel native.
Researching the pyramid forces is proving much more difficult than expected. But how did Spörri come up with this crazy idea in the first place?
Dr. Patrick Flanagan
In the mid-1980s, he read about the mysterious pyramid power for the first time in the book “Pyramid Power” by Dr. Patrick Flanagan. In yoga teachings this force is called prana, in Chinese teachings it is called ch’i and in esoteric circles it is called odic force, bioplasmic energy, etc.
Napoleon Bonaparte
Around the same time, he hears about a strange experience of the French emperor and general Napoleon Bonaparte. After winning the Battle of the Pyramids in 1798, the general is said to have explored the Great Pyramid on his own. When he leaves the building a few hours later, he makes a completely distraught impression. His aide is concerned, but Napoleon refuses to give him any information. It was only many years later, during his exile on the island of Elba from 1814 to 1815, that Bonaparte revealed that he had received a dark vision of his future in the Great Pyramid.
Paul Brunton
Spörri reads the Napoleon report with great skepticism, but the matter begins to interest him. And so he finally came across Paul Brunton’s book “Mysterious Egypt”. The English journalist spent an entire night alone in the Great Pyramid in the 1930s. In his book, he tells of all kinds of eerie experiences. After he dared to lie down in Cheops’ stone sarcophagus in the king’s chamber, he experienced an overwhelming initiation of his soul into immortality.
Conclusion
The reports by Napoleon Bonaparte and Paul Brunton challenge the inquisitive Swiss to get to the bottom of the mystery on site. Spörri knows what he is getting into and is prepared for a lot. His trip to Egypt ends with an outrageous experience, albeit of a completely different kind than expected.
The following is Spörri’s report, based on the notes in his travel diary from 1988.
April 12, 1988
King’s chamber, Great Pyramid, Giza
18:10. I lie on my back in Pharaoh Cheops’ granite sarcophagus and stare into the darkness above me. I let my vocal chords vibrate. The low-pitched humming sound from my throat creates an overwhelming, almost painfully loud resonance effect inside the coffin. I hold the buzz for as long as possible, then take a deep breath and start again. Paul Brunton did exactly the same thing around 50 years before me.
The queen’s chamber
22:20. My larynx and my back hurt. So far I have not felt the existence of any forces, nor do I perceive any change in my consciousness. Four hours later, disappointed, I climb out of the sarcophagus and leave the king’s chamber.
Ghostly shadows, created by my diving lamp as the only source of light, flit across the huge cantilevered vault of the Great Gallery. At the foot of the over eight-meter-high and 50-meter-long vaulted passage, I squeeze into the next shaft. It is benah 40 meters long and leads into the so-called queen chamber. The room is empty. There is only a high stepped alcove and a small tunnel leading somewhere from the chamber.
I squat down on my rucksack in the middle of the chamber and turn off the lamp. Despite the warmth, I’m shivering. Being completely alone in this legendary monument feels a little eerie.
April 13
The rock chamber
01:40. I jump up. Something crawls across my forehead – hopefully not a poisonous scorpion. I wipe the thing off my face with a quick movement of my hand.
I must have dozed off after chanting the monotonous Om syllable as a representation of the highest principle of God for another two and a half hours in the queen’s chamber without any success. I am crushed to realize that there are no cosmic or other energetic forces at work here either.
I scramble back to the junction below the Great Gallery and from there into the pitch-black, 105-meter-long descending corridor, which is just 1.09 x 1.2 meters long and leads 30 meters down into the base rock of the pyramid. The last few meters to the so-called unfinished rock chamber I have to crawl on all fours with my rucksack strapped to my stomach, the passage is so narrow.
The mysterious sarcophagi
The air in the 117 square meter chamber is stuffy and humid. I let the beam of my diving lamp wander through the darkness. A rectangular, 11-meter-deep shaft opens up directly in front of me. To the right of the shaft, two roughly hewn, mighty boulders emerge from the darkness. They take up half the room and, on closer inspection, look like unfinished sarcophagi. I wonder who these monstrous containers were intended for, take a few photos, sit down in the gap between the boulders, turn out the light once more and sing my Om …
03:45. I stare at the fluorescent hands of my diving watch. No energy waves! No change in consciousness! Not even a tingling sensation between the ears! Why won’t the cosmic energy enter me? What am I doing wrong?
Frustrated, I make my way back to the barred entrance. While I wait there for the pyramid guards, who locked me in the pyramid last night for a generous baksheesh, I go through my next experiment in my mind. This time it simply has to work …
On the pyramid
05:00. It’s still cool, but sweat is pouring out of my pores. A few meters above me, barefoot, climbs Akram, the son of one of the two pyramid guards. I have great difficulty keeping on the boy’s heels. No wonder, as he has left his competitors far behind in the annual illegal competition for the fastest ascent of the Pyramid of Khufu. They pay the “Pyramid King” the respect he deserves until the next showdown.
With a pounding heart, I climb the last stone blocks and then stand at the top of the 138-metre-high monument (originally 146 meters). It is a sublime feeling. Despite the still prevailing darkness, the view is magnificent. In the east, the lights of the city glitter as it wakes from its slumber. The shadow of the Khafre Pyramid looms in the southwest. The view downwards is no less spectacular. I feel dizzy and at the same time realize that one misstep and I’m dead.
Originally, the Giza pyramids were clad with finely polished limestone blocks, and their tops were crowned with highly polished or even gold-plated granite capstones. The so-called pyramidions were the first to shine in the morning sun and the last to glow in the evening sun. But the ancient wonders of the world were not alone in the area. They were the hotspots of a huge temple city. Unfortunately, apart from the Sphinx and the Valley Temple, none of this remains.
The experiment
I crawl to the middle of the flattened top of the pyramid, where a wooden frame is anchored, marking the original construction height of 146 meters. Akram watches in amazement as I pull things out of my rucksack: tent pole segments, a Coke bottle filled with water, a roll of adhesive tape, a sweater, a neoprene hood, gloves and a diving mask. First I put the tent pole segments together and attach the bottle to the end of the pole with adhesive tape. Then I put on my sweater, hood, gloves and mask. The boy’s eyes get bigger and bigger. I hand him my camera, instruct him to take cover behind the nearest boulder and press the shutter release as soon as something happens …
At that moment, the sun rises on the horizon and Akram shouts: “Jalla! Jalla!”
I align the rod vertically with the bottle at the tip. It is a delicate balancing act. I carefully push the bar up along the wooden frame until the bottle is at the original height of the pyramid’s tip. Then I pull my head in. Nothing happens. I push the bar and the bottle a few centimeters higher. No reaction. I continue to correct: the bottle a little to the left, a little to the right. Nothing! Nada!
The escape
Suddenly Akram points into the depths and shouts: “We must go!”
Cursing, I put down the pole and step to the edge of the pyramid. Down on the plateau, two figures dressed in white are waving their arms. I ask the boy if that’s his father and the other guard. He shakes his head, hands me back the camera and begins his descent. Akram was supposed to take a souvenir photo of me on the pyramid, but he has already disappeared between the stone blocks. So all I can do is take a quick photo of the surroundings, then I pull my diving gear off my head, shoulder my rucksack and follow the boy. I leave the tent poles at the top.
How I managed to get down to the plateau so quickly and without falling remains a mystery to me to this day. When we reach the bottom, Akram immediately makes a run for it, while the two Arabs block my escape route. Judging by their shrill voices, they make all kinds of vicious threats against me. I am well aware that it is forbidden to climb the Great Pyramid, and so the two “sheriffs” have an easy time convincing me with gestures to pay an appropriate baksheesh for my “release”.
Hotel Capsis Palace, 117 Ramses Street, Cairo
After the pyramid adventure, I return to the hotel and go to sleep. After dinner, I meet Jochen at the hotel bar. I had met the German engineer on the flight from Hurghada to Cairo and told him about my plans. Jochen is eager to find out how the experiments turned out.
“Complete nonsense!” I get upset. “You’re just taking money out of the pockets of gullible people with this esoteric myth!”
“And what about Napoleon and this English writer?” asks Jochen.
“Probably just tall tales too!” I rant on.
Jochen replies: “I don’t think you’re the right type for it.”
“Oh, you mean I don’t have the fine mental tools, the antenna or something like that?” I respond defiantly.
Jochen nods, grins and asks what it was like at the top of the pyramid.
I wave it off. “Nothing happened at all!”
The German asks: “Did you do everything right?”
I quote from my Pyramid Forces book: “If you position a bottle filled with liquid at the point of the original pyramid tip, the cosmic energy entering there causes the bottle to burst.”
“A purely physical experiment without any spiritual demands on the experimenter,” Jochen has to admit.
“Exactly! And I, idiot, am dragging half my diving equipment up with me to protect myself from the exploding bottle.”
Jochen gives me a comforting pat on the shoulder. We order beer for him and Coke for me, raid barman Ahmed’s stock of pistachios and discuss Egypt, its pharaohs, the pyramids and the mysteries surrounding them until well past midnight.
April 14, 1988
A momentous decision
After breakfast, Jochen says goodbye to me. His onward journey takes him to Luxor. On the way back to my room, Ahmed suddenly stands in front of me. The bartender speaks in a wild mix of German, English and Arabic. From what he says, I only understand the following: “I know someone who has exceptionally beautiful objects for sale. Are you interested?”
Ahmed’s motive is easy to see through: He wants me to visit a dealer he knows. If a deal is struck, the bartender collects a commission. A side business without much effort for him.
Today is my last day in Egypt. The small city hotel has neither a garden nor a pool where I could relax for the rest of the day. During my tour of the country, I saw everything I wanted to see and bought enough souvenirs for my family and friends. I just haven’t found anything suitable for myself yet, so I’m happy to accept Ahmed’s offer …
Continue reading The relic of Bir Hooker: The discovery
Back to Mystery research