Christi and I were so busy enjoying the luxurious surroundings aboard the Nile Story yesterday that I forgot to mention the cruise itself. To begin with finding our houseboat at its mooring alongside the Nile at Luxor was no easy task. There are literally dozens of these massive ships docked along the river – and they are double-parked. Christi and I actually walked through the lobby of one boat to get to our own. When we step into the lobby, it is like being in a real hotel with marble floors, a carved wooden staircase, and potted plant – not to mention hurricane-force air-conditioning. Our boat is less than half-full, which may be because we’re in the shoulder between high and low season (the temperatures are only going to get hotter from here on in). Alternatively, it may be due to the world recession or the perennial troubles within Egypt. Either way we got a damn good rate, which makes the cruise all the more wonderful.
Last night the Nile Story had to pass through a lock to continue its southward journey. And we weren’t alone. There are many houseboats on both sides of the lock. Apparently in the height of the tourist season (i.e. not now thank goodness, the delay can be as much as a day or more). The Nile Story is one of three boats sitting cheek by jowl waiting to enter the lock. In fact so close are we to the neighboring boat that from our room, Christi and I gaze out at a woman sunbathing by the pool of an adjacent boat.
With a captive audience so to speak the locals use the opportunity to paddle between the mighty houseboats in tiny canoes, peddling the usual tourist junk. It’s actually an amusing distraction and the arm strength of these guys is impressive. Bagged jellabas routinely fly through the air and onto the roof-top patio of our five-story boat. Their talents are wasted here, though. Perhaps Major League Baseball should come check them out.
Food is plentiful and fairly tasty. Christi and I probably indulge a little more than the other tourists as our diets have been spartan of late. We had expected the The Nile Story staff would provide updates on tour activities at mealtimes, but it appears that each tour group brought their own guide with them and the tour guides find out the itinerary from the staff and relay the information to the passengers. Christi and I only find out what’s going from the other passengers during breakfast. The Nile Story will soon stop at the town of Edfu and there will be an opportunity to visit the Temple of Edfu. We dock with dozens of other boats and wander through a market to the actual ruins. Of course the tour guides encourage the passengers to shop for a while, allowing Christi and I to enjoy the ruins in peace…for about 5 minutes. And in actual fact the temple facade is in remarkably good shape. Construction began by Ptolemy III in 237 BC, but was not completed for 200 years (under the auspices of Ptolemy XII – father of Cleopatra). The design follows classic Pharaonic architecture from 2000 BC that was already considered archaic during the Ptolemaic times. So the Temple of Edfu is a 2000-year-old copy of a 4000-year-old original. Now that makes my head spin! The temple is dedicated to Horus, who was one of the most revered of Egyptian gods. Often depicted as a falcon-headed man, he was god of war, protection, and vengeance – so clearly not a god to mess with. There are the usual pylons (gates), sanctuaries, a Hypostyle Hall (columns), hieroglyphs, and shrines, but after 45 minutes of brutal heat and wave after wave of tourists all receiving the same historical lecture in a dozen different languages, Christi and I escape back to the Nile Story. The boat is deserted and we jump in the roof-top pool to cool off. Unlike the murky waters of the Nile up which we are sailing, the pool is clear and diamond bright. And until the tourist hordes return from Edfu, it is exclusively ours. Now this must be how it felt to be a Pharaoh back in the day.
Blog post by Roderick Phillips, author of Weary Heart – a gut-wrenching tale of love and test tubes.
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