LUXOR

27 November to 3 December

Leaving the White Desert, Hamada had recommended I go to Cairo to catch the night train to Luxor, although Giza, the other option, was an hour closer. The driver was a kind man who spoke English fairly well–and far better than I spoke Arabic with only a few expressions I’d managed to learn– and didn’t seem to mind. His daughter of seven or eight, who he’d brought along, and showed considerable tenderness towards, quietly looked out the window or chatted softly with her father to pass the four-hour drive. Her long black hair was pulled back in a ponytail (she was too young to wear the hijab), wore a shirt with pink flowers, pink pants, and would have fit in anywhere back home as she munched on some potato chips and oranges.

We left the quiet of the desert long behind and once again we were moving very slowly amongst the throngs of varied vehicles. I watched the chaotic life of Cairo from the relative quiet of the car’s interior. The driver dropped me off near the main train station–cars were not allowed to pull up directly for security reasons– and after some wandering back and forth found, with the help of a local, the proper ticket window, where the seller told me “There is no train from Cairo to Luxor tonight. It leaves from Giza and you will have to go there.” I can’t say I was pleased. Fortunately it was only 4:30 pm and the train left in three hours. And so I took the metro a few stations–in the women only car–and found a cafe at the station, again with the help of locals, where I could wait a couple of hours. I sat at a table by a window with a view of the tracks and other travelers. The local trains were packed to capacity. The cafe would fill and empty with mostly large groups of Chinese tourists towing huge suitcases and wearing fashionable attire. Their Egyptian guides had mastered their tongue and took drink orders for them as they waited for their trains.

I still had a few hours for my train to arrive and ordered a tea from the young waiter who displayed a winning smile. He was particularly friendly and on several occasions offered to teach me some expressions in Arabic. Wishing to return the favor, I asked him, using Google Translate, if there was anything he wished to say in English. I was surprised when he wanted to ask me if I was married. And if I could help him with a visa.

The “luxury” night train was available for tourists at the exorbitant price of $110. Locals pay far less. The narrow compartment and bed, small sink, and shared toilet in the hall provided little “luxury”. It did however give me an opportunity to save a day and not spend 10+ hours on the day train .

I arrived at the Luxor train station at 4am weary from little sleep. Few people got off the train with me. Most tourist groups stayed on to Aswan, arriving at a reasonable hour, and visited Luxor later. The station was nearly empty, but a young man approached me. He offered me a taxi ride and said he would give me a “good price.” I hadn’t made any reservations, but had a hotel in mind. Too tired to bother seeing exactly where the hotel was I was happy to get there and agreed on 50 Egyptian pounds, about $2.80. The young man was very polite, and helped me with my bag. I would find out later the usual price was 20 to 30 Egyptian pounds. However, I considered my money well spent.

There would be many times throughout my stay in Egypt when I thought of the following: Shortly after September 11, 2001, I went to Times Square in NYC. I do not recall why. Although living in Manhattan at the time, I’d rarely go there, finding the crowds tiresome, unless I had to. But this time Times Square was eerily quiet. Tourists had cancelled their travel plans and the feeling of being abandoned by the world added to my sorrow. Although it took the city years to heal, tourists came back relatively quickly. And I never minded the crowds in Times Square after that. Tourism is crucial to Egypt’s economy and has been profoundly affected for many years by terrorist attacks and the 2011 revolution. People here were doing their best to get by, and it took little sacrifice on my behalf to lend a hand.

The East Bank of Luxor is where one will find Karnak, the Luxor Temple, a bustling town and the majority of tourists and hotels, including the swank Winter Palace, that many say has seen better times, but my walk through the gardens and a visit inside still impressed me. I opted to stay on the quieter West Bank.

One of the “guides” at the Karnak temple, as I wandered off to some of the less visited corners, said he had something to show me. (Locals, like this man, would point things out to tourists with the hopes of earning tips. Some truly had valuable knowledge to share, others less so.) He brought me to an engraving of a woman offering her breast to her infant reminiscent of hundreds of paintings I’d seen of Madonna and child. The resemblance was striking. It was also fascinating to learn how the ancient Egyptian priests were inextricably tied to the power of the Pharaoh similar to the church’s role in legitimizing the king.

The Coptic(which means Egyptian) Christians have been here since the dawn of their religion–very few Jews remain–but the Muezzins call to prayer five times a day is a notable reminder that Egypt’s population is predominately Muslim.

I was encouraged to begin my visit to the Luxor Temple at dusk. Seeing the night begin and the lights fall on this ancient structure was a highlight.

Each day in Luxor was a discovery. Learning about the dynasties, gods, and history, and visiting many of the tombs and temples was at times overwhelming but, always fascinating. Getting to be alone in King Tutankhamun’s tomb was an unexpected treat.

There was time too to wander down quiet lanes, sail in a felucca at sunset, take an early morning hot air balloon ride, visit a school, and enjoy the welcome of locals.