Nile cruise: Ancient Egyptian

Jewels of the Nile

A cruise on the River Nile is a journey back in time, to the myth and magic of ancient Egypt and the glamorous age of travel captured by Agatha Christie, says Laura Gelder

Omar Elsharawy/Unsplash

XXXXXX

Cairo

River Nile

KARNAK TEMPLE

Lake Nasser Luxor

Aswan

KOM OMBO TEMPLE

Rawan Yasser/Unsplash

ASWAN SOUK

Night falls fast on the Nile. By day the river is like an uncoiled snake resting in the desert and the high sun is inescapable, glancing off the white sails of the feluccas and gleaming cruise ships and throwing the ancient carvings of every temple into stark relief. As the sun dips the desert turns rose-gold, the river becomes mercury, temples fill with shadows and statues appear almost alive.

I had so many expectations of what a Nile cruise would be like but I didn’t expect my romantic Agatha Christie-influenced notions to be so on the money. Having checked into Abercrombie & Kent’s sleek and spotless Sanctuary Sun Boat III, I join a group of fellow cruisers for a shopping trip to Aswan’s hectic souk in search of spices.

Salesmen tempt us at every turn with everything from cotton shirts to scarab beetle trinkets, as we weave our way past stalls piled high with lamps, leather sandals, scarves, pottery, wooden souvenirs and woven baskets.

We push on to the spice market and fall under the spell of one of the sellers there, who takes us energetically through his mounds of colourful wares, making us smell snapped cinnamon, rub rose buds between our palms and taste the local desert-baked peanuts. No one asks about the pile marked ‘viagra’, which looks a bit like dried porcini mushrooms. I leave with stuffed bags of cumin and saffron.

We must hurry to reach The Old Cataract Hotel in time for sunset. Agatha Christie’s famous novel Death on the Nile featured this grand hotel and she stayed here many-a time. It was built by Thomas Cook and its opulent interior is evocative of a time when travel was truly exotic. The decor is part Agatha Christie part One Thousand and One Nights, mixing wood-panelled lounges, leather armchairs and antique telephones in alcoves with starcut Aladdin-style lamps, exquisite Arabic fretwork and heavy patterned carpets.

Under the mosque-like dome of the grand dining room, guests including Winston

Churchill and Tsar Nicholas II have sat. It

As our fez-wearing waiter sets down a tray of gin and tonics the call to prayer echoes from a distant muezzin and white-sailed feluccas slip silently through the water

could hold hundreds but only a handful are dining under its enchanted ceiling tonight.

On the terrace I sink into a wicker armchair and watch a timeless scene unfold as the sun sets, framed by palm trees ruffling in the breeze. We’re looking over Elephantine Island where the small houses of a Nubian village twinkle across the water. Beyond are the sand dunes, the undulating curves more pronounced by the gathering shade. As our fez-wearing waiter sets down a tray of gin and tonics, ice cubes chinking softly, the call to prayer echoes from a distant muezzin and below the white-sailed feluccas slip silently through the water. We stay until the desert fades to black.

All-aboard

Back on board, cold towels and even colder cocktails await, followed by a sumptuous dinner. The yacht only hosts 36 guests and its décor is between the 1920s and 1930s, sporting cream walls with dark wood pillars and teak and rattan furniture. I fall asleep quickly, cossetted in my four-poster bed.

The next morning we catch a motorboat to the peaceful island of Agilkia and the temple of Isis, which was moved from the neighbouring island of Philae in the 1970s to rescue it from floods causes by the nearby dam. The early morning heat is still searing but we have the complex to ourselves as we pass through towering gates bearing the carvings of the falcon-headed god Horus – son of Isis – and wander shaded cloisters topped with statues of the cow goddess Hathour. Isis was one of the last of the ancient Egyptian gods to still be worshipped and her cult spread as far as Britain and Afghanistan.

Re-joining the ship, we motor slowly north. The Nile is lined with a fertile strip of green, where farmers and their children are tending to buffalo, but beyond is desert. Like most Nile cruises, we drift leisurely from temple to tomb; east bank to west bank. The Egyptians believed the sun represented the cycle of life, so they built their temples where the sun rose and laid their dead to rest where it set.

My imagination is captured by Kom Ombo, a temple dedicated to the crocodile god Sobek. We’re told it was discovered with its cellars stuffed with the mummified remains of this revered and feared reptile and go to see the swaddled beasts in its museum. Much of the temple has been destroyed by earthquakes or humans but carvings remain which are thought to be among the first depictions of medical and surgical instruments, like

scalpels, forceps and medicine – huge buffet of barbequed meat and looks like a modern luxury hotel, its proving how advanced the ancient fish with crisp salads and side dishes vastness dwarfed by the cliffs of Deir Egyptians were. like aubergine stew, followed by an el-Bahari. Inside, paintings of fish,

Our local guide is not just unavoidable dessert selection. monkeys, big cats and giraffes are incredibly knowledgeable but, like all I stay up to watch as we pass still incredibly vivid after 3,500 years. Abercrombie & Kent’s guides here, through a lock at around midnight They are evidence that Hapshepsut a qualified Egyptologist. and then retire to bed, lying in traded with the exotic Land of Punt, George (a Coptic the dark and watching the whose exact location is still debated Christian) patiently attempts to give us Guardians neon lights of unknown towns sweep by. by historians, though theories include Eritrea and Ethiopia. a snap shot of a civilisation which of history The World Tourism Association Fact or fiction? No photos are allowed in the deep tombs under the Valley of the Kings. ruled for a mind for Culture and Heritage As the trip goes The corridors that lead to the burial boggling 3,000 (WTACH) seeks to protect and on the gods and chambers are also painted vividly years and whose preserve cultural heritage their triumphs and with blue, ochre, green and red, remnants still stand assets via responsible and tragedies become telling stories of various reigns. thousands of years later. “This, oh this isn’t sustainable tourism wtach.org as real as the kings and queens, and the It’s Tutankhamun’s resting place which gives me the biggest shivers, that old,” he says with a line between reality and not because of its beauty – it was dismissive wave at one point. legend becomes blurred. The never finished because he died so “about 2,300 years.” sky goddess Nut, always pictured suddenly – but because of the story

On board, the chilled towels, beers hugging the earth in a yoga-style of its discovery. Howard Carter was and bowls of peanuts keep coming if pose, seems as plausible as Queen days from the end of his fruitless you want them to. The top deck has Hapshepsut and her mortuary five-year search for the young day beds swathed in white cotton temple. pharaoh’s tomb, when a water boy and a cooling plunge pool. Lunch Lined with almost perfect statues – the son of a grave robber – ran is served on the rear deck and is a in her image, from a distance it to tell him he’d found a stone. The

WE MAKE A REAL DIFFERENCE TO BIRDS OF PREY

Please share our mission to conserve them

We work to conserve birds of prey and their habitats with projects in the UK and overseas

Why not spend a day with us, watch our beautiful birds fly and find out more about what we do.

Since we started in 1965, we’ve returned thousands of birds back to the wild

Our National Bird of Prey Hospital™ can receive and care for 200 birds each year We’re striving to save thousands of vultures from being poisoned in Africa We are a leader in the field of Kestrel population research

cr u ise with charitable .trav e l

Book a

A FELUCCA TOWARDS ASWAN TOMB OF RAMESSES IV

stone was a step and as more were excavated they led to the door of a tomb. The story goes that as Carter peered through a hole he’d made in the door, his candle guttered from the air escaping the chamber and his companion asked: “Can you see anything?.” As Carter’s eyes became accustomed to the dark he saw the gleam of gold within and replied: “Yes, wonderful things.”

The queen who could

In the colossal temple complex of Karnak it’s not the statues of Ramses II, the towering columns, or the vast manmade lake that impress on me most, but the desecrated faces of Hapshepsut. I’ve come to admire this ambitious queen, who dressed like a king since female rulers weren’t the done thing. As her stepson was too young for power she was made regent but evidently she enjoyed it because after three years she made herself Pharaoh and ruled for two decades. After she died her stepson, jealous of being kept from the throne by her, began a campaign to erase her from history and was successful for almost 3,000 years. But you can’t keep a good woman down and modern scholars eventually rediscovered her.

From Karnak we head into town following the Avenue of the Sphinxes - once an unbroken line of around 1,350 human-headed lions connecting Karnak and Luxor. After a puff on some shisha and a sip of grainy coffee in an alleyway cafe, the fiery sun has sunk below the horizon and by the time we reach Luxor Temple, dodging skinny horses and their carts, it’s pitch black.

Perhaps it would have been just another temple if it was daytime, but at night the lights animate the statues, throw dramatic shadows on the hundreds of columns and imbue the whole scene with extra mysticism, despite the modern city sounds penetrating the walls. The layers of history are tangible - ancient Greek graffiti slathered over Egytian reliefs and a modern-day mosque lit with fairylights at the centre of the temple.

Back on board, the last night is pure Agatha Christie, as we all don traditional gallibayas for the grand final dinner. It’s topped off with a giant baked Alaska in the shape of the pyramids, carried in by our beaming chefs to a standing ovation, and entertainment from a belly dancer and a whirling dervish. As the G&Ts sink in, joining in is inevitable.

I step ashore thankful that there was no death on the Nile but sad to be leaving this fairytale world. The trip has at times felt as fast as a whirling dervish, but then everything feels like a blur amongst the ruins of such a long-standing civilisation. A Nile cruise barely scratches the surface of Egypt, but it’s a start and a sumptuous one at that.

XXXXX

MORTUARY TEMPLE OF HATSHEPSUT CABIN, SANCTUARY SUNBOAT III

FUTURE TRAVEL WRITERS

This February, Charitable Travel’s partner, Girl About Travel Club, ran a children’s travel writing competition designed to inspire kids and offer fraught parents some home schooling ideas for the last few weeks of lockdown 3.0.

Charitable Traveller’s editor, Laura Gelder, was delighted to judge the competition's two age categories: five to nine years, and 10 to 13 years. Both were given the brief to write about their best holiday memory and there were entries covering everything from Sri Lanka to Scarborough, Crete to the Caribbean. The winner of the 10-13 category was Abigail Stirk, aged 10, and part of her prize was to be published right here in Charitable Traveller. We hope you enjoy her tale of partying in St. Lucia as much as we did!

THE JUDGE'S COMMENT: "This story instantly transports the reader to the Caribbean, taking you on a journey from morning to night which is full of atmosphere. Abigail brings the story alive with her vivid descriptions that draw on the senses: the feel of a fresh breeze on the balcony, the shimmering colours of the carnival costumes and the booming sound of the music. You really get a sense of the destination as well as Abigail's personal take on experiencing a totally different culture."

Party at the Carnival

BY ABIGAIL STIRK

It was another hot and humid day in St. Lucia, the Caribbean island that my grandparents had made their home. We had travelled to visit them and were going to be staying with them in their island home for the whole of the summer holidays.

I woke up early, with a growing sense of excitement. Clambering out of my bed, I opened the door of the bedroom I was sharing with my younger sister and felt a draft of cool air come in from the open balcony doors. Through the doors I could see my grandparents sitting on the sofa outside and something glittery sitting in my grandmother's lap caught my eye. My grandma saw me and came to meet me. She handed me the glittery creation which turned out to be a sparkly, silver cropped top and a matching bright blue sparkly skirt and told me to go and try it on because today me and my sister were going to be part of the annual St. Lucia carnival! I was so excited and couldn't believe that I had the chance to take part in a real carnival parade, I couldn't wait! The outfit fitted perfectly and, after changing, my grandma did my hair in braids.

We took the short drive down to the village centre, where lots of other children were gathering and getting ready and I waited to be given the final pieceto my carnival outfit, a huge marlin fish shoulder piece.

It wasn't long before the music started playing from huge speakers set up on the street and the village square became busy with lots of people in glittery clothing and sparkling sea creature costumes. As you might have guessed, the theme was tropical ocean!

Along with my younger sister, I was a marlin Fish. The marlin Fish costume was beautiful and decorated in amazing shades of blue and teal and embellished with intricate patterns of sequins and plastic jewels and I was delighted when I was told I'd be able to keep it afterwards so that I could take it home to show my friends, even though I wasn't sure I'd be able to fit it into my suitcase!

As we approached the parade start time I looked up at my costume and my sparkly marlin fish smiled down at me, reflecting the rays of the hot Caribbean sun. In preparation for the parade we were given some food and drinks and this is when I met my new friend, Aisha. Aisha was also dressed as a marlin fish like me and we both complemented each other on our outfits and laughed that we were matching! I asked Aisha how old she was and where she lived and we began to talk about our different schools and cultures.

Aisha told me that she was nine and lived in the village. I shared some of my sweets with her and then we took a picture so that we could remember meeting each other on this amazing day.

Moments later, the music bus arrived. This was a huge black double decker bus with music booming from the speakers above. The music was tropical, original St. Lucian carnival music, full of upbeat rhythms. We started the parade by lining up next to each other in different sections. We became a long, beautiful rainbow of sea creatures from fish to dolphins to sea shells, you name it, we had it!

The sun shone down and the music filled my ears with happiness. The St. Lucian people danced differently to me but I quickly started to pick up on their moves, mixing our two different styles of dance together. It was a day to remember and one that I don't think I'll ever forget.

The hours of parading around the village flew by so fast and before I knew it the carnival parade came to an end. We all celebrated the end of the parade with fried chicken and juice before I said my goodbyes to Aisha. We had a big hug and she waved at me as I headed home, leaving the adults to enjoy the carnival celebrations into the night. I am forever grateful that I got to experience this amazing day and I will never forget the St. Lucian Carnival of 2019.