Further South: Luxor To Aswan 

Luxor is definitely quieter as Saturday morning dawns and heralds the start of the sacred month of Ramadan. We’ve been told several times that the first day of Ramadan is a time for families, as first they fast together, and then later celebrate the passing of the first day with a convivial family meal as soon as the sunset call to prayer sounds. 

True to form, in the last few moments before sundown, the previously bustling streets of Luxor are akin to those of a ghost town: no tuk-tuks, no taxis, no horses, litter blowing down the market street which yesterday was rammed with people. Then, two hours or so after sunset, everything has returned to normal and the streets are once again alive – or maybe a little more than alive, there is something of a festive feel in the air. Laughter ripples from coffee bars and now and again the sound of a firecracker ricochets off the walls.

The second day of Ramadan is also our last day in Luxor. Luxor has been good, full of interest and history but also a welcoming place where we have felt very settled, not only in the city in general but also in our neighbourhood on the west bank in the smaller “half” of the city. It’s an extremely hot day with temperatures hitting 41C (106F), a tough day surely for those not permitted to even drink water.

Walid appears in the garden with a refreshing fresh strawberry drink as we take some shelter from the blistering sun, taking time to answer more of our questions about Ramadan, its meaning and purpose, and how he feels today. When he reappears a short time later, just after sundown so refreshed at last by water, he astounds us by asking us to join his family at their celebratory meal. In this very special time for families of Islam faith, we are honoured and humbled by this invitation.

We eat a delicious meal prepared by Walid’s wife, we sit around the table with Walid acting as interpreter, play with their three delightful children, and look from the balcony of their home out across the Nile. In this most family oriented, private time, we feel privileged and very, very lucky to have been invited into their home. An absolutely wonderful way to end our time in this lovely city.

And so it’s on Day 14 of this North Africa adventure that we leave Luxor with more than a little sadness, to head further south down the Nile Valley towards our next destination of Aswan. That means that it’s also Day 14 of our abstention from alcohol. Lemon juice with fresh mint leaves and a hint of sugar, karkade (a drink made from hibiscus flowers) and anise tea, are among the drinks which have been added to the current staples of mint tea and strong coffee. 

I might have to say that again. Fourteen travel days with no alcohol. Is this really us?!

The 3-hour train journey from Luxor to Aswan follows the route of the Nile, sometimes in the lush oasis, sometimes in the barren desert and now and again on the cusp of both, stopping several times at Nile towns along the way. Carriages are dated but adequately comfortable and with more legroom than you would ever get on an aeroplane.

Our apartment in Aswan is on Elephantine Island, one of the many Nile islands within the town, and renowned as a great example of Nubian culture and architecture. We’ve heard many good things when we have mentioned that we are staying on the island: “You are lucky, you choose best place in Aswan”, “Ah, Elephantine, beautiful place” they say, or “ You have made best choice, very beautiful place”.

Our first walk from the ferry to our apartment, through cramped, litter strewn muddy alley ways does not bear this out – this is not what we would call beautiful at any stretch and we find ourselves wondering if we’ve made a bad call.

Entering our apartment makes our hearts sink further. Inside are more flies than you would see around a dead animal, everything is so dirty that flies are feeding on the floor and on tables. A little bit shell shocked, we take a stroll around Elephantine to seek out its good points, if there are any, whilst across the water the lights of Aswan look welcoming and lively. We even buy a stock of cleaning products to make the apartment acceptable, but when we return, put on the light and the cockroaches scuttle into the corners, it’s the final straw. Within minutes our backpacks are re-packed and we’re back on the ferry to check into a hotel looking out on to the Nile.

After an awful lot of airbnb successes over the years, this is our first ever reject, but there’s no way we could have stayed there. We can put up with lots, but that was a step too far. It’s booking.com to the rescue and we make a last minute reservation at the CityMax Hotel right on the Corniche.

A mile south from here, and looking out from the east bank towards Elephantine Island (so named, by the way, because several of its eroded rocks look like elephants) is the elegant and colonial Old Cataract Hotel, nowadays owned by Sofitel and still a place of enormous charm and character. A favourite haunt of many famous and royal names including Agatha Christie, this is the place in which large sections of her “Death On The Nile” novel are set.

Such is the grandeur of the Old Cataract that there is a fee to pay for non-residents like us just to enter the grounds and take a look: however this fee buys a voucher which is redeemable against anything you purchase whilst on the premises. So here we sit on this fabulous terrace overlooking the Nile, the hot sun reflecting in the water, with a voucher in our hands and a guy asking us which cocktail we’d like. And so ends our alcohol ban – in some style.

The only realistic way to get to Abu Simbel from Aswan is to join one of the fleet of minibuses which leave town around 4am daily to head to this incredible monument. So with an even earlier alarm than we had for the hot air balloon, we’re off in the World’s Most Uncomfortable Minibus (official!) and heading further south towards the Sudan border long before dawn. 

Abu Simbel marks one end of a UNESCO World Heritage site known as the Nubian Monuments, which stretch all the way to Philae Temple. These unbelievably huge statues and monuments were built under the rule of Rameses II and his wife Nefetari, primarily as a show of strength by Egypt to the people of Nubia. Nubia itself, or “Upper Egypt”, was populated by people from further south who, despite being under Egypt’s control, were felt to need powerful ruling.

The sheer size of the exterior, let alone the decorated interior, is crazy, yet Abu Simbel is remarkable for a second reason: the fact that it has been moved. In the biggest archeological salvage mission ever undertaken anywhere in the world, the entire giant structures (there are two) were dismantled block by block and reassembled in identical layout some 65 metres higher, in order to avoid being submerged, and lost for ever, by the rising waters of Lake Nasser brought about by construction of the Aswan High Dam.

Such an ambitious and improbable project was rejected several times before receiving approval, but eventually, in the years 1964 to 1968, the entire site was moved to a point 200 metres from the water. What an incredible achievement. What an aberration destroying the temple as part of creating a reservoir would have been!

Some reservoir though – as we stand looking out, the water stretches to the horizon in two different directions with no land visible to the naked eye. It’s hard to convince yourself that you’re looking at a lake and not the ocean. Lake Nasser is, in fact, 298 miles long and just under 10 miles wide at its widest point. 83% of the lake is in Egypt, the remainder in Sudan, who were apparently fiercely against its creation.

These temples, the huge expanse of lake, and the fact that the temples have been shifted from their original site, is all a bit awe inspiring. Less awe inspiring is another four hours in the World’s Most Uncomfortable Minibus (official!) as we head back to Aswan through startling sand storms: the barren, empty desert is chucking heaps of sand across the highway which is rapidly disappearing. Visibility becomes poor and our driver battles the crosswind, it’s a bit like driving through an ochre blizzard.

Later, as dusk nears, the sun turns an insipid yellow as it makes its way down towards the sand dunes and islands. Below us on the Corniche, there is activity.

Before we came out to Egypt we were very interested to see how Ramadan affects everyday life, and intrigued as to what we might learn. Well, there’s one lesson that’s made a very real impression. One of the teachings of Ramadan is that, by fasting for so many hours, one can learn to empathise with those who have nothing, in order to develop a genuine care for those in need.

In both Luxor and Aswan, we have witnessed the result of this first hand. As sundown and the end of the daily fasting approaches, trestle tables and benches appear on the streets and a small army of helpers busy themselves with preparation. What follows is a meal for the needy: provided by those who can (and it may be a restaurant, a Bank, shop staff or even private households) who fill the tables with food and drink, while the benches are filled by the have-nots, those worst off in the community. Throughout Ramadan therefore, those most in need of help will get at least one decent meal a day thanks entirely to the kindness of others. 

And those benches are full, nightly. So many people with nothing, it is a sight which is heartwarming and sad in equal measure. There’s always lessons to learn when travelling.