12 December to 14 December 2018

Since tourism is the bread and butter of Egypt’s economy, efforts are taken to ensure the safety of its visitors: certain destinations are off-limits, others require convoys with police escorts to get there, and others are accessible only by buses specifically for tourists.

I intended on going to Abu Simbel from Aswan, but wasn’t keen on the tourist buses which only left at 4:30 in the morning, arrived four hours later, spent a few hours at the Abu Simbel Temples, and returned the same day. I wasn’t out to risk my safety, but sought a more appealing alternative. I was assured that the local buses, leaving Aswan at 8:30 in the morning, were just fine. I opted to take one with plans of staying two nights in Abu Simbel.

Breakfast was included in my Aswan accommodations. I left to catch the bus with an ample supply of hardboiled eggs, pita bread, bananas, and cheese prepared by my host’s father, who lived in the apartment below and possessed a huge smile. He arranged for a taxi to take me from the mainland to the bus station. My host’s brother once again kindly carried my bags, effortlessly–this time down the three flights of stairs where we said our goodbyes. I walked a short distant with some roaming sheep and goats toward the ferry.

My taxi was waiting for me, as scheduled. Arriving at the bus station, the driver made some inquiries and told me the minivans packed with passengers were not advisable. He dropped me off instead on the other side of the depot where a bus was parked.

It was still early when I arrived. A lone man was sweeping the pavement and a young, slight, Japanese man walked up to the ticket office. The day was not yet warmed by the sun. After purchasing my ticket the Japanese man, whose name was Asahi, and I sat on a bench together wearing our jackets.

Asahi spoke little English, but it was enough for him to understand an invitation to share my breakfast. He readily accepted. It seemed as if he hadn’t eaten in days. He hungrily devoured everything I offered him. Fortunately I had plenty to sate us both.

A woman wearing a headscarf, very colorful layers of clothing, a large shawl, and fabric earrings approached emanating a strong waft of patchouli. She and her two colorfully dressed teen-age daughters were from Bulgaria. They’d been living on the Sinai Peninsula for years in an alternative community where the money went far and smoking hashish was a popular pastime. They were heading to Abu Simbel for the day. We still had some time before our departure and decided to all wait together sipping strong coffee and hot tea purchased at a nearby cafe.

When the bus driver started the engine, the five of us took our reserved places onboard with the locals.  There was plenty of room for all of us to stretch out. The four-hour trip, with one welcome rest stop was uneventful and pleasant enough, but the flat scenery on barren roads did little to inspire.

The bus arriving in Abu Simbel pulled up in front of a large, inviting building. A taxi was waiting, but I wanted to get my bearings first. I headed into the building for some information only to discover it was unfinished and completely vacant.

After our quick goodbyes, Asahi and the women dispersed on foot. My phone indicated a fifteen minute walk to my hotel, but I opted for the ride. The driver was pleased to have some business and we negotiated a fair price. He was very gracious. I took his number in case I needed a taxi later on.

Traffic was sparse on the four-lane main road of Abu Simbel, except for the occasional tourist buses and the tuk-tuks used by the locals.  Upon arrival the hotel manager stepped out and welcomed me warmly, then led me down a hallway to choose the room I preferred most. All were vacant and identical. I chose one away from the road. It was nicely decorated with a double bed, private bath, large armoire, and more than double the price of my apartment in Aswan, but it was walking distance to the temples. And the hotel had a large roof-deck where meals and drinks were served.

Asahi, walked in shortly afterwards. He was given the same tour and took a room across the hall. He let me know he was going directly to sleep.

I’d heard that Abu Simbel had the best Light and Sound show in all of Egypt and made plans to go that evening. I headed out for a walk and lunch. Unfortunately the over-sized, modern road I’d arrived on stripped the town of any charm. Despite the small markets and shops which dotted its edges, any feel of a quaint main street had been lost. And walking on this highway was not particularly pleasant. I could see why most people were happy not to linger here.

The only break in the monotonous, tan landscape was Lake Nasser, actually a reservoir, and one of the largest man-made lakes in the world. It is named after Gamal Abdel Nasser, one of the leaders of the Egyptian Revolution of 1952 . The artificial lake was formed after the building of the High Aswan Dam between 1960 and 1970. Many thousands of Nubians throughout the region were relocated from their flooded ancestral homes and placed on inferior lands, stripping them of their traditional agricultural life. The controversy and dissatisfaction of the Nubians remains.

The quickly built town of Abu Simbel appears to have been constructed with little thought of aesthetics or livability.  However, a walk along the lake’s edge was pleasant, as was encountering some locals. There was evidence of the people’s adaptation gaining their livelihood through fishing and tourism.

I looked for a local restaurant to no avail and headed over to the other hotel, supposedly serving the best food in town. It was a pretty place, built-in a traditional Nubian-style without all the colors I’d grown accustomed to in Aswan. It overlooked Lake Nasser.

Well-dressed couples and busloads of Asian tourists filled the large dining hall of the hotel. The day was too lovely to be indoors. Fortunately, nearby, some simple outdoor tables and chairs were empty except for some staff amiably chatting. After asking if service was possible, I grabbed a seat and ordered grilled fish, rice, and vegetables. It was prepared simply, and tasted good.

I was soon talking with the hotel owner’s son, Shadi. The servers were impeccably dressed in traditional robes. He opted for a woolen cap and casual Western attire. A few of my inquiries led to a lengthy conversation. He told me of the traumatic flooding of his family’s land, the relocation (despite these events occurring before his birth, his pain felt no less acute), his father’s desire to create a new home, cultural venue/hotel to honor their heritage, and how he had aspired to be a pilot in the U.S.–but 9/11 shattered any chances of achieving his dream, He was still passionate about airplanes and flying, and stopped himself when he thought I’d heard enough.

I later expressed my hope to meet some of the local fisherman and he brought me a short distance away to some men mending their nets. They looked surprised to see my interest in their chores, but kindly allowed me to take a few photos.

The time passed quickly. A newly arrived group of tourists soon demanded Shadi’s attention. I enjoyed the rest of the time sipping some tea and watching the seabirds before heading back for that evening’s show.

As the sun was setting I walked the short distance to the entry of the Abu Simbel Temples. Tourist buses were beginning to arrive. I bought a ticket, went through a security check, and continued on a path that winded its way around to the water’s edge.

And there the twin temples stood. They were magnificent. It was hard to imagine that the huge statues I was gazing at, carved from stone, had once stood elsewhere. Before the area was flooded, the extraordinary efforts of international teams disassembled, transported, and reassembled the temples to their present location. I stood before these massive figures under the moonlight in awe.

The Light and Sound show did not disappoint. It told the engaging history of the Pharaoh Ramesses II and his queen Nefertari with a tasteful use of lights and effects.

When the show was over, most tourists headed back to their buses. I had the luxury of staying until the guards escorted us out. I saw Asahi. He was one of the last to leave too and we walked back to our hotel together.

We shared a meal on the roof deck speaking of our travels and his family’s concerns and disapproval. Although this was only his second trip, the first being South America–he speaks no Spanish–he had every intention of  satisfying his wanderlust. During our meal, I happened to notice his watch with arabic numerals and mentioned how lovely it was. The following day when we said our goodbyes, he offered it to me as a gift.

I would visit the temples twice more the following day. I walked over again at sunrise and approached the temples by boat, at dusk.

Each visit offered a different perspective and beauty.

Entering the temples revealed a new set of wonders.

My two night stay in Abu Simbel hadn’t been too long after all.

I contacted my original taxi driver for a ride to the airport. I’d bought a ticket for a flight from Abu Simbel back to Cairo with plans of arriving in Alexandria the same day.