Luxor, Egypt
The next two days brought us a new guide and a fresh outlook
on our explorations of the ancient West Bank. Michael was everything our
previous guide was not. He was enthusiastic and accommodating, and he patiently
answered every question we threw at him.
To be honest, Eric did most of the questioning while I
remained quiet save for a few observations and questions peppered along the
way. When I was with young Mahamoud at the Pyramids I eventually told him of my
passion for the subject matter. After this disclosure he tended to ask me if I
agreed with his statements and I felt bad. He may have been intimidated. Our
next guide, at Tell El-Amarna was a little older than me and was much more
confident in his abilities. Whatever I knew, or thought I knew, he was was
fully aware of the fact that he knew more.
Our guide from the day before kept asking “Do you like my version? Do
you agree with my story?” Clearly there was a concern that I would be one of
‘those people’. You know the ones. You see them in museums speaking too loud to
their friends so that they can impress you with their knowledge. Or that guy on
the tour that would start every fifth sentence with “Actually…”.
I did not want to be that guy.
Michael connected with Eric very quickly. Eric had disclosed
that he was a Minister with the United Church (we decided to keep the facts
simple) and the two chatted happily many times about religion, faith, and the
similarities and differences of their two denominations.
Strangely enough, it was only after I confessed to Michael
my level of interest that he and I really connected. I had underestimated his
confidence. This was very refreshing.
Throughout these two days we visited waded waist deep in
ancient Egyptian history. We visited the Valley of the Workers (also called the
Valley of the Artists) and stood over the ruins of the workers village. These
artisans and their families were separated from the rest of society to secure
the secrets of the royal tombs. No outside contacts were allowed, offspring were
trained in the requisite work to continue the traditions, and everyone was
blindfolded to and from work. As payment for their loyalty, they were want of
nothing. Far from the fertile Nile, the state ensured that all of the needs of
this population were met and that they could find their own resting places near
where living gods occupied their eternal homes. It was a great honour.
We visited the smaller, but no less impressive tombs of the
upper class in the Valley of the Nobles and I was able to see some art that I
recall having as a poster in my bedroom. Yes, while others had movie and music
posters I had posters of ancient Egyptian tomb art. I also had a hand made list
of all of the pharaohs of 30 dynasties, from Narmer to Cleopatra VII on my
wall. What you are thinking to yourself right now is probably exactly, or very
close, to what my parents thought as they shook their heads at my bedroom
décor.
The Valley of the Queens was punctuated by the beautiful
ceiling of Nerfertari’s tomb. The
favoured wife of Ramses II, no expense was spared in the making of her tomb.
The ceiling painted as a night sky is not unusual as a choice for a royal
resting place, but the richness of colour, the bold outlines of the stars and
the dramatic effect attest to the level of love and devotion the king had for
Nefertari. It is an extra cost to visit this tomb, but it is well worth the
price.
Our return to Hatshepsut’s temple allowed for me to visit
the site with a clearer head and an eye
for detail. Our guide took us a around and provided a more fulsome tour while I
began exploring the nooks and crannies of the place. I can honestly say that
there is very little of that temple I did not see. Thankfully, Eric is always
patient with me.
We also returned to the Valley of the Kings. Another ticket
meant another three of the nine eight tombs currently opened to the public. It
was also an opportunity to check out the tombs that cost extra. The most
expensive of these is the tomb of Seti I, and for good reason. It is the most
beautiful one in the valley. The rich colours, the clean cuts of the reliefs on
the tombs, and sheer magnitude of the interior is overwhelming in its scope. As
you descend deeper into the mountain you are struck by the open space rather
than the gravity of so much rock above you. I thought back to our guide from
before who told me it was a lot of money for an empty room. She was clearly in
the wrong business. I shook my head in annoyance as I remembered her.
Knowing that I would return again, I decided to wait on the
other tombs of extra cost, Tutankhamon and Ay, for later.
We visited the Ramasseum, with its massive head of the
pharaoh lying face down in the dirt in front, followed by the temple of Seti I.
It was at Medinet Habu, the mortuary temple of Ramses III that the intensity of
the day, and the days before, finally caught up with me. The heat on this day
was particularly brutal, and there was very little shade to be had. While I had
SPF60 sunblock and a hat, and had been religiously hydrating myself throughout
my trip, I began suffering from the effects of the heat and the sun.
While in the bathroom I realised that was overheated and
thought back to most of the water I had been drinking. While the water was
safe, it wasn’t cold. We would take it out of the bar fridge in our room before
we left, but an hour later it would as warm as tea. Also, I felt the very slight breeze there was
on my head a realised that the hat I had bought to protect me was actually
causing me to feel the heat as well. It was designed to breathe (it was also
designed to last no more than a couple of weeks), but there was not enough
breeze to get through the material and cool me down. Before going much further I purchased cold
water and left my hat off for a while and this seemed to help.
I grew up in a semi-arid desert and living with heat was
nothing knew. In fact, I have found that the weather we have been experiencing
during the shoulder season in Egypt is about the same as what we had in the
hottest part of summer in Kamloops. I chastised myself for not knowing better.
I know when a hat is useful and when it isn’t. I know when water gets warm it
doesn’t cool you off. Clearly thirty
years in the humidity has changed me.
I rested during the evening and felt better by the end of
the day.
On the morning of the day of our departure to Aswan we woke
up very early and met our tour leaders in the lobby at 4am. Eric had booked us
a balloon ride over Luxor at sunrise. The early morning was warm but we could
see and feel the last evidence of dew as we boarded the ferry that would take
us to the west bank.
As we lifted up into the air, Eric and I leaned against the
edge of the basket and watched the landscape around us slowly reveal itself.
The sharp line between the black lands and the red lands, the arable land and
the desert, traced its way next to the Nile to the south and the north.
Donkeys, dogs, cats and people could be seen walking along the meandering
streets below. The tops of homes, flat and wide open to the sun, clustered and
dotted below us as we wafted by farms and dirt roads. We rose higher and the
skyline of Luxor, thin towers piercing the sky,
could be seen across the river. And the desert unfolded and revealed her
treasures that have been the focus of our past three days. The Valley of the
Kings, its simplicity hiding the complex warren of art and mystery below
it. The Ramasseum and Temple of Seti I,
spread out on the sand like the skeletal remains of an ancient sea beast on the
ocean floor. The Colossi of Memnon, now dwarfed into two small specks along a
road only now coming alive with locals off to work. And Hatshepsut’s mortuary
temple at Deir El Bahari, gracefully laid out at the foot of the cliffs, her
ramps already brilliantly reflecting the early morning sun.
Egypt is a busy, loud, chaotic country in many ways. Its
intensity is sometimes overwhelming for me. But this morning with Eric and was
drifted silently over a landscape that watched humanity grow and evolve, for
better or for worse, there was mostly silence. The pilot of our craft tried to
be entertaining and informative, but he was easily ignored as you gazed onto
the horizon.
We were tracing the path of the sun god Ra himself, and we
smiled upon the Gift of the Nile.
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