Walk like an Egyptian…or just try to walk without breaking an ankle or getting run over

The transition to Luxor brought the promise of rich historical exploration and personal introduction to more “typical” Egyptian culture. We got both in spades.

We first set out on a walk from our hotel on the Nile to the Luxor Temple in the city center. We thought it would be a nice stretch for our legs and an easy way to get oriented. We also had a number of things to ship home and train tickets to purchase for the day train to Cairo. We didn’t realize we would also be almost constantly pestered to take a taxi, buy tourist junk, or ride in a horse-drawn carriage while navigating 12-inch curbs, broken sidewalks, speeding traffic and a cacophony of honks, beeps, screeches and yells. We made it to the post office and the train station after about a half-hour, and were helped by the assistant manager to find a box and ship our package. He was also apparently pleased with the effort, and invited us over for dinner the next night…Seeking a peak into what an Egyptian family was like, we agreed to meet the next night. More on that later. The train station was also an easy find, but alas no seats available. So instead of a pleasant train ride through the desert and along the Nile, we would again hop a plane to our next destination.

The Luxor Temple was beautiful with incredibly heavy and tall columns, walls filled with inscriptions and reliefs and grounds studded with sculptures in various states of assembly.

We then took a felucca sailboat excursion, plying the Nile as has been done for centuries. Of course the wind died as soon as the boat was underway, so modern assistance was called – a decrepit and filthy ferry boat that belched blue smoke and no doubt fouled the water with every chug. It was really lovely and peaceful. Really it was. OK, well maybe it was for the last 45 minutes when we had turned around and were drifting back to the launch site. And the haggling over the price at the end of the trip was also delightful. Really it was.

The next day, we would explore the seemingly desolate Valley of the Kings, the rebuilt Temple of Queen Hatshepsut, and the vast Karnak Temple. So we hired a local guide for the day. Monty was our man, a recommendation from a fellow diver we met in Dahab who had been impressed by Monty’s degree in ancient Egyptian history, not just tourism as most guides typically have. Monty was the proverbial fountain of knowledge, interweaving the complex history of the Pharaohs, rise and fall of dynasties, political intrigues, religious beliefs and practices, daily life, and artistry into a captivating portrait of Egypt as it was 2000-4000 years ago. Denise loved it. Pelle’s eyes had a permanent glaze about an hour and a half into it despite the general Egyptian manner that led Monty to direct most of his conversation at Pelle for the entire day. 

Having been forewarned that the amount of hawking and hustling in Luxor would be at least twice that of Dahab, we thought we were well-prepared for it. After 2 days, we were beat and spent the last day by the poolside in shady recovery.