On the road to Abydos, leaving out of
Aswan. We’d left an hour later than
planned. Eight in the morning was always
going to be a challenge. To the right, The
dusty dangerous looking constructions are built up into the hill side, Inshalla there will not be any earthquakes
here for many, many years, till long after they reinforce those walls. Abydos was Mecca before there was Mecca. The ancient temple of Osiris, built by Seti I, in 1294 B.C. the father of the big builder Ramses II. I’ve
talked the troupe into this one last temple, which is supposedly has remarkable
color and is largely complete.
Our guide Ahmed, comes
up to me and asks if he can speak. I
need to finish a document first but when I do and I ask him what’s up, he mentions
that we will have three more hours to reach Luxor and then Abydos will be a
full three hours beyond that. It is
unlikely we will reach Abydos before 4:00PM and the site may close soon
thereafter. Why not go tomorrow? He suggests. We’ll cut off two hours of
travel because you must go north the Qena before you turn off to Hurghada anyway. This will be better. At first, I dismiss this. No. We’ll continue on the with the plan,
as the new plan begins to get other members of the tribe anxious about just how
long everything is. "As you wish" which always seems to burden the recipient rather than serve them. But in the end, we
decide upon the new plan. Let the family
rest today when we reach Luxor. They can
have a lazy day at the hotel, and we’ll take on Abydos then, tomorrow.
I need to get my
sister something and I have it in my mind to find some of these old British
prints that they have in some of the hotel walls. I’m not sure
that a glitter painting of the Pharaohs on treated papyrus has a future on
our walls. Out in front of the Winter
Palace hotel there is a shop and wonderfully they have a ten of the prints by Mr. David Roberts from Stockbridge which I learned was in Scotland. They have different sets and I choose the one
that has prints from across the nation. I’d
had it in my mid to get the cow as the symbol of Hathour, which we’d learned
at Abu Simbel was the symbol of maternity.
They show me a lovely cow our two with the sun disc on the forehead and
I am tempted but we get the prices wrong between pounds and dollars and it’s
much more than I thought. He explained
that these were all from a special cabinet that though not ancient were all
carved in the 19th century from Steatite stone. He suggests throwing in a scarab beetle to increase the value and I consider a lovely one that has Hatshepsut carved into the
base but in the end, I pass and respectfully move on with only my prints.
Somehow the actual
Temple of Luxor itself is one that we did not get to visit during the frenzy of our initial
day in Luxor. I’m not going to press
anyone else to join but I head over now in the 105 degrees weather, to consider another
of Ramses II’s construction the temple of Luxor. I tried as best I could to suggest the guide
take the afternoon off but he accompanied me over and it was certainly good to have
him. Formerly, the ruins were buried to the
seated Rasmes' neck in dust and debris.
How strange for the 19th century visitors to have first seen
it in this fashion. He points out the obelisk
that testifies to Ramses II and the space where another one was missing. Muhammad Ali apparently presented it to the
French in the early 19th century and it presently sits as a gift in
the Place Du Concorde, in Paris. I seem
to recall having seen it there, many years back. The French apparently give Muhammad Ali a
clock tower return that broke down shortly after they received it. My guide points out that the Obelisk in the Hippodrome
in Istanbul was also from here originally and that if they were given as gifts
there is not much Egypt can do to reclaim them, but the ones that were taken,
that is another matter. And he reminds
me of the challenges for Egypt in the last millennium before Christ. The Nubians conquered Egypt. I consider the ropes around the necks of the
Nubians marching beneath one side of Ramses feet and the “Asian” Syrians on the
other side with their prominent beards, as it had been in Abu Simbel.
And then a few hundred years later the Nubians return the favor and after that, the Persians so the same. And the Persians in particular like the Christian Copts later, deface the ancient iconography or in the Christian's case, paint
over their Biblical scenes.
Heading home its hot. Really hot and there is no shade. The water
from the market fridge I buy along the way remarkably refreshing and I needed it more
than I’d assumed. Back at the hotel and
splurge about on two items from the gentleman’s 19th century
case. I hope my sister and my mother enjoy
them. There is no point in getting items
that are disposable. And this evening we
dine at the house of Mustafa, the ensign on the dahabiya we sailed who invited
us to his home. We met his mom and
sisters on the first floor and his wife and family on the second. We paid games with his two younger daughters
and laughed, trying to teach them how to count to ten in Chinese. Dinner was on the floor. Chicken and soup and mezze, and each of us
genuinely purred with satisfaction and how delicious each dish. I wasn’t sure beforehand whether or not this
was something the family would really want to do. I the end, I think it will be remembered by
everyone in their own way as a highlight.
Mustafa did not have smart phone or an email address so I cannot easily
send him the lovely photos we took all together there with his family.
Friday, 7/12/19
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