An Egyptian Excursion – Day 4: Abu Simbel and Aswan
We started our last full day on the Nile with a three o’clock departure for Abu Simbel. After the quick transfer from ship to bus, I nodded off and awoke again as day began to break over the desert. The ride took three and a half hours, towards the tail end of which we were properly in the desert; even the hardy round clumps of grey grass gave way to a uniform barrenness overseen by the occasional stern cliff. On the way back, we saw these cliffs more clearly. The shorter ones were beige with splashes of black, while the taller ones had warmer colours, and a few were shaped like pyramids.
We also saw
that, perhaps an hour away from Abu Simbel, the arid land was being cultivated.
Incongruously verdant patches spread out under irrigation pipes and ended
abruptly where the water could not reach. We guessed that some of the produce
was wheat and some corn, though our guide told us that plenty of grain is
imported from Sudan. He made this observation as we passed by a parking lot
full of trucks, which he said were being used to exchange goods across the
border. Egyptians prize Sudanese spices and hibiscus, while Sudan’s imports
from Egypt are of a more industrial kind. We shared the bus with a Polish tour
group, who announced at one point that we would see a fata morgana in five
minutes. I did not know such a thing could be predicted but he was right. Five
minutes later, we saw the distant hills on our right floating in the air,
separated from the ground by a reflective blue band that looked like the
surface of a lake.
Abu Simbel,
of course, was magnificent. The village, named after a local family, is home to
the Great Temple of Ramesses II, whose likeness is carved into the faces of
four colossal statues at the foot of a broad rock. One of these statues
collapsed in ancient times, but the remaining sections of its head and crown,
which lie at its feet, help visitors grasp the sheer size of the monument. By
the legs of these statues stand Ramesses II’s sons and daughters, his mother,
and his main wife Nefertari, while the very top of the complex is lined by a
relief depicting baboons. Their lord the Sun God (in the form of the
anthropomorphic falcon Re-Harakhty) is in the central niche above the entrance.
The temple feels
cramped even early in the morning, as crowds of tourists begin to descend upon
Abu Simbel as soon as it opens. People gape and lose all perception of their
own body as they enter the great pillared hall, where Ramesses II appears again
in the form of giant statues that face each other across the path. The walls of
the hall depict the Battle of Qadesh, which was a major focal point in the
pharaonic propaganda machine. In this battle, Ramesses II was almost defeated
and taken prisoner by the Hittites, but the unexpected appearance of an elite troop
allowed him to retreat. The pharaoh subsequently portrayed the battle as a glorious
victory. The hall leads to a smaller sanctuary with four carved deities, and
several more chambers with carvings adjoin the sides of the hall.
Just a few
paces to the right of the Great Temple of Ramesses II, the Small Temple of
Nefertari stands hewn into another, smaller rock. There are six colossal
statues in front of the temple. The two flanking the entrance depict Ramesses
wearing the two different crowns of Egypt, while the two on the outside show Ramesses
on the throne of Horus. In between them on each side stands a statue of
Nefertari with the accoutrements of the cow-goddess Hathor. Similarly to the
previous temple, there is a pillared hall within this temple as well, but
instead of giant statues, the Small Temple of Nefertari is supported by giant
pillars bearing the face of Hathor.
I found
that the temples looked best from farther away, so I backed up all the way to
the shore of Lake Nasser to take my pictures. The temple’s modern history is
interwoven with that of the lake. When the Aswan Dam was being built, UNESCO
appealed to its member states to help protect the monuments that stood to be
submerged by the rising waters. With very little time to spare, Egypt agreed that
the temples would be relocated out of harm’s way, and a whole international
consortium helped saw the monuments apart and reassemble them on higher ground.
Abu Simbel was thus moved several dozen metres higher, while some more minor
temples were gifted by Egypt to the countries that helped in the effort.
After two
hours at Abu Simbel, we rode all the way back again to Aswan, where we took a
ferry to the Temple Island of Philae. Similar in style to the temple of Edfu,
the main structure on the island is the Temple of Isis, which dates to the
Ptolemaic period. One interesting feature of the temple is that it served as a
Coptic church during the Christian era, which is why there is an altar on the
right side of the main hall and why engravings of crosses have replaced several
hieroglyphs around eye-level. Viewed from the island’s port, the other major
structure on the island is the Great Kiosk of Trajan, a rectangular building
whose floral pillars still support parts of what used to be a roof.
We ate
lunch on our ship later than usual and resumed our programme at half past
three. Transferring to a smaller boat again, we first sailed to the Aswan
Botanical Island, which boasts (I am unsure whether truthfully or not) that it
cultivates specimens of all the flora in Egypt. The island’s northern tip also
offers a good view of the tombs of Egyptian nobles on the western bank of the
Nile. As I walked along the garden’s paths, I was puzzled to hear birdsong
until I realised that the sound was being produced by wooden instruments in the
hands of boys and young men. The gardens are not off limits to sellers, and at
its southern tip the island actually transforms into a whole open air tourist
market.
After
boarding our boat, we sailed upwards again, passing under the clifftop
Mausoleum of Aga Khan. We were beset a few times by pairs of boys on surfboards
who would paddle up to our boat using square boards just a little bigger than
their hands. Once they managed to latch onto our boat, they started to sing. I
initially thought the strange tunes to be mysterious Nubian polyphonies until I
recognised the refrains of “She’ll Be Coming ’round the Mountain” and “Frere
Jacques” and felt rather silly. Still, the unusual harmonisation and occasional
minor-key deviation from the straightforward melodies gave some indication of
local tastes.
The boat
then wound its way between small reedy islands and jutting rocks, which was
done to create an atmosphere rather than out of any practical considerations;
when we returned, we sailed unhindered along the main course of the river past the
famous Cataract Hotel. Our destination was the local Nubian village. The guide
told us that its inhabitants were moved there when the Aswan Dam flooded their
homes, and that their main source of income nowadays are tourist dollars.
Generally, these are not given to local attractions directly but to the local
headmen, who divide the money as they see fit.
Once we
arrived, our guide escorted us along the dirt roads to the local school. I
could not tell whether all the local buildings were colourful because of local
custom or because of tourism. Besides the occasional guesthouse, there were
quite a few tourists and souvenir sellers, as well as women and children
offering to exchange larger bills for coins (I assume the idea is that the
coins can be used as baksheesh). At the school, we were given a speed lesson in
Arabic and Nubian numbers, as well as Arabic letters, after which we were
treated to a small meal at a nearby tourist centre. Fortunately, our guide knew
enough about Czech tourists to guess that we would not enjoy learning to dance
from the Nubian drummers, who were performing another lively rendition of
“She’ll Be Coming ’round the Mountain.” Instead, we peacefully ate some bread
with molasses, local cheese, and halva. The local cheese was among the
strangest I’ve ever had. Drippy, sour, spicy, and smoky, its most salient
flavour was the very crude taste of the animal it came from, which I must admit
churned by stomach.
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