I was feeling good after my first evening in Aswan. The souq had allayed my initial fears of Aswan and given a me a good insight into life in an Egyptian city.
The next morning, I woke up early and began walking towards the Nile. To say those words felt strange. I was going towards "the Nile". The famous river of so much history and so many stories. I was now just one of many travelers through the centuries who had come to Egypt and looked at the Nile with the same feelings of awe and curiosity. Whenever I have been at historically significant locations such as this, I have always had a feeling of being connected with the past. It feels as though I am now becoming part of a historical chain of events that is far greater than myself.
I reached the corniche and stared out at the fast moving waters of the Nile. It was a beautiful day and there couldn't have been a more picturesque scene with the feluccas moored by the banks.
I walked towards the river and braced myself for a rush of touts.
It never came.
I was approached by a couple of touts, but they seemed to lack enthusiasm. One of them later sat down next to me with no intent of making a sale and began to have a casual chat. He told me that the tourists were gone and that most of the touts had given up. Looking down the length of the corniche, I could see the truth in his words. To the left was the river and to the right was a row of hotels and yet there were almost no tourists to be seen.
I kept walking down the bank of the river until I found the ferry. I hopped on, put my pound into the box in the middle of boat and took my seat. The ferry's motor made a horrible noise and began moving me towards Elephantine Island in the middle of the river.
This was going to be my first experience with Egypt's ancient history. There was a large museum and collection of ruins to the South of island. This seemed like the perfect place for me to start my exploration of Egypt's history. I walked up the hill towards the museum, which was inside an old house. I reached the door and was told that it was closed. I wasn't completely surprised, but consoled myself with the fact that there were still the very substantial ruins to be explored.
The ruins were indeed substantial and were once again completely deserted.
I was able to see an actual Nilometre that was used by the Egyptians to measure the height of the Nile floods.
I was able to stand on top of the old temple.
I was able to climb to a high point and look out across the expanse of the ruins.
Walking around the ruins, I was coming to a horrifying realisation .... I didn't care.
Looking at these relics to the ancient Egyptian world, I was experiencing no thrill of excitement or sense of wonder. Staring at the ruins, I tried to muster some enthusiasm for what I was seeing, but I could feel nothing. It just didn't interest me. I wasn't sure whether this was because I had seen too much or if it was the result of a general lack of interest in ancient Egypt.
Whatever the reason, this was a bit of a concern as I still had another three weeks in Egypt.
The next morning, I woke up early and began walking towards the Nile. To say those words felt strange. I was going towards "the Nile". The famous river of so much history and so many stories. I was now just one of many travelers through the centuries who had come to Egypt and looked at the Nile with the same feelings of awe and curiosity. Whenever I have been at historically significant locations such as this, I have always had a feeling of being connected with the past. It feels as though I am now becoming part of a historical chain of events that is far greater than myself.
I reached the corniche and stared out at the fast moving waters of the Nile. It was a beautiful day and there couldn't have been a more picturesque scene with the feluccas moored by the banks.
I walked towards the river and braced myself for a rush of touts.
It never came.
I was approached by a couple of touts, but they seemed to lack enthusiasm. One of them later sat down next to me with no intent of making a sale and began to have a casual chat. He told me that the tourists were gone and that most of the touts had given up. Looking down the length of the corniche, I could see the truth in his words. To the left was the river and to the right was a row of hotels and yet there were almost no tourists to be seen.
I kept walking down the bank of the river until I found the ferry. I hopped on, put my pound into the box in the middle of boat and took my seat. The ferry's motor made a horrible noise and began moving me towards Elephantine Island in the middle of the river.
This was going to be my first experience with Egypt's ancient history. There was a large museum and collection of ruins to the South of island. This seemed like the perfect place for me to start my exploration of Egypt's history. I walked up the hill towards the museum, which was inside an old house. I reached the door and was told that it was closed. I wasn't completely surprised, but consoled myself with the fact that there were still the very substantial ruins to be explored.
The ruins were indeed substantial and were once again completely deserted.
I was able to see an actual Nilometre that was used by the Egyptians to measure the height of the Nile floods.
I was able to stand on top of the old temple.
I was able to climb to a high point and look out across the expanse of the ruins.
Walking around the ruins, I was coming to a horrifying realisation .... I didn't care.
Looking at these relics to the ancient Egyptian world, I was experiencing no thrill of excitement or sense of wonder. Staring at the ruins, I tried to muster some enthusiasm for what I was seeing, but I could feel nothing. It just didn't interest me. I wasn't sure whether this was because I had seen too much or if it was the result of a general lack of interest in ancient Egypt.
Whatever the reason, this was a bit of a concern as I still had another three weeks in Egypt.
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