A Memorable Cruise from Aswan to Cairo down one of

the World’s Great Rivers..

..visiting some of the ancient wonders from the two millennium BC.

Egypt

There are no longer crocodiles in the Nile! The dams at Aswan have completely changed the personality of this fabled river. Flooding, which for millennia has both damaged settlements and replenished nutrients, is now controlled. The hippos and crocodiles, which once terrorised the locals, are now only south of the Aswan dam. Oryx, baboons, lions and falcons are completely gone. It is only smog and disease that pose a risk to those living alongside. Utter dullness.

We are on board a river vessel called Misr, the actual name of Egypt in Arabic. She is a grand old dame, and the only steamboat still plying the river. Once the plaything of King Farouk, she is now host to a bunch of upper crust Brits replete with unkempt hair and rounded vowels. We are travelling from Aswan to Cairo along the narrow fertile strip created by the river. On either side, a very short way beyond the banks, lies the vastness of the Sahara. The haunting call to prayer punctuates the day (although some of the Brits can’t stand it – “much prefer a good peel of church bells myself”), and ancient bold ruins lie scattered along the banks. The people are extraordinarily mixed. From the tall, elegant, dark-skinned Nubians to plump, fully swathed Muslims. Grubby sweatshirts say things like ‘don’t let the rain put out the fir’ and every other male is in uniform. All wear large, welcoming smiles and wave and cheer interminably as we pass.

President Sisi is driving progress on a spectacular scale. Enormous earthworks are changing even the great Sahara. The war in Ukraine has majorly impacted the grain supply (70% of their wheat was imported), which is a fundamental food source for Egypt’s 120 million people. Accordingly, where once was sand and stone, central-pivot irrigation systems now give birth to luminous fields of wheat. The intense green circles juxtapose strikingly with the pale brittleness of the desert. Huge tracts of barren land (50 000 acres according to our guide) are currently being covered in green houses to grow aubergines, tomatoes and strawberries. The scale is staggering, as is the knowledge that the military are in complete control of this essential food source. Multiple bridges are under construction and water pipes are being laid to provide running water to homes. (In spite of what the government says, very many people in Egypt continue to live with no power, no running water, and no education. The fields and the river sustain them - just as they have for millennia). Thirty new cities - linked by high speed rail - are being constructed in the desert to accommodate Egypt’s exploding population. At the same time, the poverty and absolute filth of most people’s daily life is quite confrontational. Food is still cooked over open dung fires and clothes are washed in the Nile. Skinny dogs roam the streets and feed on the carcasses of their dead. Plastic waste is so dense it has accreted into riverbanks and streets. Cigarette butts choke the ancient monuments, and donkeys remain a key form of transport.

The causes of poverty are many. Corruption, greed, ignorance, incompetence - take your pick. More recently, it has been Covid and terrorism. Terrorist attacks have sporadically occurred since 2013 and have severely affected the tourist industry. On a scale of 1 – 10, with one being no economic impact, and ten being utter devastation, Egypt ranked 8.2 (Trading Economics). Sadly, for the people, it has been painfully slow to rebuild. There are only three full-length Nile cruises this month, down from 100’s in the glory days. Unused boats line the river, sometimes stacked five deep on a single mooring. In an attempt to reinvigorate the industry, the government provides all tourists with police escorts. We walked for 10 minutes ashore the other night, and were accompanied by a police van, a car with lights and sirens, and a motorbike, as well as both uniformed and plain clothes officers walking on foot. We had at least 15 fully armed guards (pistols, AK47s, flak jackets) for 10 people! They form barricades as we cross back onto the boat and our vessel is accompanied by police boats as we steam. We walk through metal detectors to enter everything (including the one in our own boat which is decorated to look like temple columns) and our buses are checked underneath with mirrors before being led and flanked by several police vehicles complete with lights and sirens. Between the ridiculous protection of the guards and the incessant hand waving of clearly overjoyed locals, we are starting to empathise with the royals.

To add to Egypt’s problems, the Nile is much depleted. The crew have to navigate around sand banks by sticking a pole into the water and calling the depth. At one point, we didn’t think we could make it any further - and Misr only draws 1.4 metres! Fortunately, the local governor intervened and three dredges were called in to clear the blockage. Crew, passengers, senior officers and a bevy of government officials stood on deck and watched as we reversed (using the wash of the props to clear more sand) below a bridge, missing it by centimetres.

This morning we entered our first pyramid. It is 4600 years old (approx.) – sobering to imagine the changes it has seen. The steep, 60 metre long, narrow passage to the tomb was very poorly lit. The low ceiling meant backs were bent, and the temperature and humidity increased steadily as we got deeper. Deep inside, were vaulted stone ceilings, home to dozens of tiny bats. Indiana Jones eat your heart out! Outside, camel and horse-drawn cart drivers battled the tat peddlers for the much sought after tourist’s dollar. Tragically, we watched as one of the skeletal horses collapsed, its neck bent at a horrible angle, jammed between a wall and the cart it was pulling. Many of the sad creatures have the repetitive head movements that signal complete despair. It hurts to see.

The vastness and richness of Egyptian history is hugely challenging to impart. Truly enormous structures loom out of the desert, each one richly engraved with tiny, detailed hieroglyphs (Egyptian emojis J). We have learned that the Ankh, a much-repeated symbol of ancient Egypt, is a stylised representation of women’s uterus, ovaries and birth canal - it is the ancient Egyptian symbol of life. How perverse that the conquering Romans turned this ‘cross’ into the ultimate representation of torture and death. Egypt speaks in metaphor.

Some of the better preserved tombs and temples still bear brightly coloured varnishes made of blue lapis lazuli and emerald-green malachite. In later times, Christians inhabited the abandoned tombs, coating the ceilings and walls with soot from their fires and hacking the old gods from the walls. Over 4500 years ago, the size and sophistication of the tombs and temples were intended to demonstrate the power of the Pharaohs and so humble the people. Even in ruin, defaced by Christians and coated in Napoleonic graffiti, they remain humbling.

Post Script
Our last few splendid days were spent relishing the sights of Istanbul. The thousands of street cats and dogs are cleaned up now, well fed and bearing regulatory tags in their ears. The screech of ring-necked parakeets is relatively new. Twenty-four years ago a truckload of birds destined for pet stores overturned, and the tough little buggars have made Istanbul their home. The old copper pots and tantalising antiques are long gone from the Great Bazaar, replaced by diamond jewellry and coloured glass lamps. The spice market has stayed true, and fisherman still haul scores of glittering anchovies from the Bosphorous Strait, which divides the city in two, and Europe from Asia. Most importantly, the spires of the ancient mosques still echo with a haunting call to prayer five glorious times a day.