8 December to 12 December 2018

The Nile cruise ended in Aswan and I planned on staying there four nights.  The two couples from the cruise and I had become fast friends and we decided to spend their time, of two nights, in Aswan together. Both couples had previously reserved different lodgings for their stay. The Australian couple opted for the five star Old Cataract Hotel and the American couple the colorful Nubian-styled Kato Dool Resort.

The first was well beyond my price range and the latter was sold out. I found a simple place, Nuba Dool, on Elephantine Island that looked appealing online, but hesitated to commit to four nights before seeing it.

Coming straight from the cruise, the five of us dropped our bags off at the Old Cataract Hotel and walked to the nearby Nubian Museum.

It was filled with information and beautifully displayed treasures. We then hired a cab that took all of us to a dock.

Here colorful small boats awaited visitors to the impressive Temple of Philae–center for the cult of Isis–only accessible by water.

The temple was painstakingly moved 550 meters to Agilkai Island from its original location in the years 1972 to 1980. The construction of the High Dam completed in 1970 threatened many ancient sites, including this one.

Despite all the temples I’d visited in my short time in Egypt, and the initial impression that many looked the same, each one had something unique to offer. The views from the Temple of Philae’s were stunning and seeing graffiti marking the exploits of Napoleon’s army dated year 6 of the Republic was particularly memorable.

After a delicious al fresco lunch of fresh fish, cooked in Nubian clay pots with assorted vegetables, overlooking the temple, we rejoined our patient,  English-speaking taxi driver back on the mainland.

As we piled back into the vintage looking station wagon that comfortably seated the six of us in three rows of seats, the driver–who we’d generously paid for his time–headed back to the Old Cataract so we could collect our bags. The couples and I made plans to meet again for further exploring the following day.

It was getting late and I still didn’t have any confirmed accommodations. I asked the taxi driver if he knew of the Nuba Dool Guest House.  He did not know it specifically, but offered to take me to the ferry that went to Elephantine Island. He then made a call on his cell phone.

By the time we got to the ferry dock a man was waiting for me. The sun was setting and the dock area was nearly dark. The driver had called his friend to further assist me in getting to my destination. The tall man wearing traditional attire greeted me warmly and assured me that the place I was seeking was just on the other side of the Nile. With his task completed he set off without seeking any compensation for his kindness.

The ferry to Elephantine Island was down a steep cement staircase. A young man approached and asked if he could help me with my bags. I hesitated, but my bags were not easily managed and accepted the offer. He effortlessly took them on to the small ferry. I quickly realized that this same young man was the captain of the boat. I paid him 5 Egyptian pounds, about 25 cents, for the round trip fare and took a seat for the few minutes it took to cross the water. The ferry had few passengers and no tourists, besides me. Locals had parcels they were bringing back to their homes.

When we got to the other side, without asking, the captain carried my bags up the once again steep stairs and directed me to the hotel a short distance away.

It was now dark. The passengers from the boat had set off in various directions. The island was quiet. The dirt paths were for walking. I neither saw nor heard any motorized vehicles–I do not think there are any on the island. There was however a small group of goats and sheep ambling about. I approached a man and asked directions.  Nuba Dool was just around the corner and he led me to it.

The building had three floors and I made my way to the top following signs at the entrance. There on a large, plant-filled terrace, with sagging couches, several tables and chairs, was an Egyptian man smoking a cigarette chatting with a German traveler. An ashtray overflowing with butts was within their reach.

Seeing no other guests, I felt confident I would have a room and was surprised to hear they were fully booked. The man with a round face and easy smile, took his time speaking. A stutter hampered his progress. He did however have a place very nearby, that he was happy to show me. We walked to a building a minute’s walk away. For $25/ night I was given a two bedroom apartment with kitchen, bathroom, and large terrace, including breakfast. The furnishings were spare, but the apartment was clean and comfortable.

My apartment was in a building solely inhabited by locals. All the women wore head scarves and jalabeyas, men’s traditional attire was mixed with Western-styled clothing.  I felt welcome.  Although the language barrier limited our conversation, greetings were exchanged. My bags were carried up the three flights of stairs by the owner’s younger brother, who was double in size.  And shortly after, I descended to a small shop on the first floor of the neighboring building. The goods were limited but carried essentials from soup to soap. I bought water, yogurt, bananas, and bread, headed back up, unpacked some of my items, made tea, ate a light dinner, read, and went to bed early. The night was surprisingly cold. I piled several heavy blankets on top of me and stuffed my down vest inside a pillow case to replace the large, rock-hard pillow I’d been given.

After a sound sleep, I headed back to Nuba Dool for breakfast where I was served a large platter of falafel, eggs, cheese, pita bread, cucumbers, tomatoes, beans, yogurt, fruit, fresh mango juice, cookies, and coffee. I barely made a dent in all the offerings. A Spanish couple was waiting to be picked up for an excursion and we chatted about the places we had been. The chill of the night was replaced with the strong rays of the sun. I enjoyed the peace and quiet of the island. It was worlds away from the bustle of the mainland .

I was soon picking up my friends, the Australian couple, back on the other side of the Nile with a boat and driver I’d arranged at my hotel. Despite paying dearly for their luxury accommodations, they were unhappy that their breakfast had been served in the chilly shade and were not permitted to change their table. I didn’t have the heart to tell them about my delightful breakfast in the sun.

Traveling by water in Aswan was not only necessary, but extremely pleasant. The air was fresh and clear, a gentle breeze cooled us, and the views were beautiful.  The driver, whom we hired for the day, recommended that we visit the Tombs of the Nobles perched high up on a hillside. The climb was steep and young men on camels were waiting to offer rides on their gangly beasts. My friends and I decided to walk up.

As was often the case, a guide with keys to unlock the tombs, was awaiting the arrival of visitors. For the next few hours this man and his tall, Bedouin, matinee-idol-looking associate took us clamoring over stones and gingerly negotiating crumbling stairs into a hidden wonderland of ancient mysteries and colors.

The tombs were magical.

Feeling elated, we decided to treat ourselves to camel rides for the way back down. Getting on a camel, while they are kneeling, is easy enough, but the jolt forward and back as they stand up is a bit unsettling. And the rhythm of their walk is anything, to the novice at least, but smooth. I was glad the distance was short. And couldn’t imagine spending days traveling across deserts upon a camel’s back. However, the young men sat atop with ease and looked extremely comfortable. I suspect this came, like most things, with experience.

We met our other friends that afternoon at the Nubian Coffee House defined by carpets and pillows arranged under some large shade trees overlooking the Nile.

We made ourselves comfortable in various lounging postures while a man sat nearby before a coal fire roasting the coffee. He added ginger, nutmeg, cloves, and cardamom into a pot before serving the dark fragrant brew in small cups. It was potent and delicious.

Afterwards we took our boat to a Nubian market, geared for tourists. Shop after shop sold souvenirs of assorted variety and quality. My friends bartered and purchased objects, bags, and scarves from the friendly sellers promising them ancient treasures and goods, made and woven by their mothers’ and sisters’ own hands. The clearly mass-produced items defied their claims, but I don’t think the sellers’ themselves expected to be taken seriously.

I enjoyed watching the dozens of riders and their camels passing through the streets on their way home.

My friends would be leaving the following day. We shared our final meal together in laughter and stories with hopes of seeing each other again.

I spent the next three days wandering the narrow, quiet streets of Elephantine Island,

visiting a local school,

a few tiny, but interesting museums with enthusiastic, and less so employees, taking a private boat tour with the “Birdman of Aswan”

and spending many delightful hours speaking with locals and fellow travelers over copious cups of tea and hearty meals.  I extended my stay an extra day.

The thirty day visa I had for Egypt was running out all too quickly.

I made plans for my next destination, Abu Simbel.