Two of South America’s great urban centers–Santiago, Chile and Buenos Aires, Argentina served as designated transfers on our journey to the bottom of the world, but time would not allow Leah and me to explore our interim surroundings to the fullest. Nevertheless, we hit the ground running,
utilizing the long summer days to our advantage and netting a few memorable moments and postcard pearls to satisfy our wanderlust.
Santiago is a vibrant capital sandwiched between the Coastal Range and the Andean Mountains, and best experienced from the summit of San Cristobal Hill–
accessible by cable car from the east,
or by funicular from the west.
For many Catholics, the pilgrimage to the top of Cerro San Cristobal is incomplete without hiking to the Sanctuary of the Immaculate Conception,
where a statue of the Virgin Mary rises 14 meters from her pedestal.
The Catholic Archdiocese is based at the neoclassical Metropolitan Cathedral at the Plaza de Armas,
where it stands as the centerpiece of the square.
The opulence of the sky-blue frescos and the cathedral’s gilded columns are a testament to the hundreds of artisans who toiled for decades to evoke the aesthetics of Tuscany and Rome.
On the civics side of the peso chileno, there is also a wealth of Beaux-Arts architecture that dominates the cityscape, from the Supreme Court building…
to Constitution Square.
Leah and I initially arrived in Santiago, Chile, only to fly out the following day to the Antofagasta region, where the Atacama Desert figured large in our itinerary (see Atacama Desert). Then it was back to Santiago, for an overnight, before an early departure to Buenos Aires, where our time was sorely limited to an amazing rib-eye dinner in the midst of Monserrat,
followed by a necessary “walk-off-our-meal” stroll through the city’s oldest district, replete with sidewalk bistros,
political art,
and public buildings defended by commemorative art,
and protected by full-figured gargoyles.
The following afternoon, we arrived in Ushuaia, acclaimed as the southernmost city on the planet.
Although our ship Viking Octantis awaited us at the harbor (just kidding),
Leah and I still managed to appreciate the Patagonian panorama surrounding the waterfront,
the inland tributes and monuments,
and the resplendent gardens scattered throughout the town.
Ushuaia surprised me. I anticipated a sleepy town, but discovered a hive of trendy shops, boutique hotels, and pricey outfitters. The scenery was unparalleled, and the weather was ideal. It seemed the perfect segue to an exciting Viking expedition.
And so, the time had come to embark on our adventure to the White Continent by first surrendering to the dreaded Drake Passage…
Despite the monochromatic omnipresence of shifting sand and salt across the Atacama Desert (observed from previous post, “Atacama Desert”)–
aside from the occasional splash of flamingo pink–
there is an abundance of color to behold in other regions of Antofagasta. Leah and I joined our expedition colleagues…
for a 90-minute drive north through remote, rugged terrain and narrow switchbacks, to catch a 7am sunrise over El Tatio Geysers, the highest, albeit 3rd largest geothermal field in the world, and certainly, the most active in the southern hemisphere.
At an altitude of 14,170 ft, the -6oC desert temperature was biting at our faces, but it was a temporary inconvenience. The backlit, pre-dawn sky and cold air benefitted the playful plumes that vented from 80 steaming geysers and fumaroles amid 12 sq miles of Andean volcanoes.
Like so many others, I was poised for the first sun to creep over the horizon,
not only to return the feeling to my fingers, but to reveal the chromatic clouds playing across the landscape.
Soon enough, the rising sun would turn the blackest of hot springs into a glorious reflecting pool.
It was worthy of a celebration.
Because El Tatio is community-owned and administered, there were several local rangers scattered throughout the vicinity to patrol, advise, and admonish any foolishness similar to Pierce Brosnan’s trespassing at Yellowstone National Park (although he entered a “not guilty” plea during his recent arraignment).
One can only hope that discretion and common sense would prevail in this fragile and volatile environment.
El Tatio Geyser
A stroll through the field revealed a kaleidoscope of algae-induced minerals and salts,
that stretched into the distance.
El Tatio didn’t appear as daunting as Old Faithful and its surroundings, but it was impressive, nonetheless, with nowhere near the number of onlookers!
From our position–only 100 miles to Ollagüe Volcano, bordering Chile and Bolivia–
we continued to Valle del Arcoiris, another community-based natural wonder,
where “purple mountains majesty”…
become a befitting backdrop to roaming, grazing llamas.
The valley was as wide and rich with the scent of riki riki…
as it was awash with colors created by a primordial stew of Sulphur, gypsum, crushed shells, and clay.
When the Pliocene Epoch carved out the valley,
all traces of copper and lithium were swept away–
which is a silver-lining for a spectacular landscape that would otherwise have been ravaged by mining companies.
It’s a new year, and there has never been a better time for Leah and me to explore our world. We are always up for a challenge, so we’ve decided to begin 2024 with our most ambitious adventure yet. Not satisfied with returning to some of our favorite destinations–not that there’s anything wrong with familiar places—we booked a bucket list trip over a year ago that would literally take us out of our comfort zone.
We filled the waiting time by visiting friends and family across America (and a speck of Canada)–only some of which I memorialized during the past year in this blog. In fact, a large part of last year’s travels never made it past my unpublished thoughts and unprocessed SD cards, including: a trip to Israel (months before the October 7th massacre);
a Central American cruise to Costa Rica,
Panama City,
and Cartagena, Columbia;
as well as a relaxing siesta on the Riviera Maya in Mexico;
a flash visit to Victoria, BC;
and a southwestern tour of America in our silver bullet–
all worthy of sharing sooner than later.
But until then, I must fast forward to our most recent trip to Chile’s Atacama Desert before embarking aboard Viking’s Octantis to Patagonia and Antarctica–in search of whales, penguins and extraordinary landscapes.
We overnighted in Santiago, Chile,
followed by a morning flight to Copiapó, the region’s capital incorporating San Pedro de Atacama.
And set out to explore the highest, driest ecosystem on planet Earth.
Forgive me; it’s been a while since my last confession.
Life happens and it’s been challenging at times to juggle travel with business affairs, personal affairs and blogging. And with the passage of each passing day, it’s become increasingly more difficult to return to summer events with the same vitality, and cobble a detailed timeline from 3 months ago. In fact, there are still stories from last year’s journey to Canada that have yet to be written and published.
While I could travel less to blog more often, or continue to travel without memorializing the occasion, neither option is an acceptable one. Perhaps, I’ll just have to find a better way to accomplish both without sacrificing one for the other. In the meantime, I’ll pick up where I left off, which is somewhere on the road between here and there.
First of all, a shout-out to our friends Dirk and Heather,
who allowed us to park the Airstream at their ranch in Fort Collins, assuring us peace of mind while we boarded a flight from Denver to Seattle to visit my son Nate.
Dollar for dollar and day for day, Leah and I figured that flying round-trip to Seattle probably saved us 2 weeks of driving 1,500 miles, at a proximate cost of $1300 in fuel.
After our arrival to Issaquah (suburban Seattle and Nate’s hometown), we ventured southeast along the I-90 corridor to hike Rattlesnake Ledge on Rattlesnake Mountain–
a demanding 2-mile ascent…
that gave us sweeping views of Rattlesnake Lake,
and the Cascade Range beyond the clouds.
Seattle was also our gateway to north of the border…
After a 2 hour and 45-minute cruise aboard the Victoria Clipper, we arrived at Victoria’s Inner Harbor,
where we would spend the weekend at the historic Pendray Inn and Tea House…
in the very pink, Executive Suite.
Victoria is well-known as a pedestrian town,
with a variety of landmarks and attractions within a few miles of our hotel. We were less than a half-mile from Parliament,
and Fairmont’s Empress Hotel,
and another half-mile further to Canada’s oldest Chinatown.
And strolling along the Lower Breakwater (adorned with First Nation symbols) with panoramic views to the south, afforded us a different perspective of the Cascade Range.
Also within walking distance, we discovered Craigdarroch Castle, a Victorian architectural marvel…
from front…
to back….
top to bottom,
and everywhere in between!
And exquisitely furnished throughout the residence.
Of course, no visit to Victoria is complete without a stroll through Butchart Gardens,
Leah and I arrived in Colorado Springs, where we liaised with Leah’s daughter, Carrie and her clan to enjoy a camping adventure together during the Independence Day holiday weekend, and it was action-packed.
Hiking one mile into Guffey Gorge…
brought us to Paradise Cove, a swimming hole popular among local adolescents who come to cool off from the 100oF heat and flex their courage muscles by cliff jumping into deep water.
Risk-takers were scrambling up the terrain to pick their “launch” position on the rocks, and prove to themselves and others that they had “The Right Stuff.”
We were happy eating our lunch while watching the derring-do entertainment.
But Colorado Springs has so much more to offer. For starters, the interactive U.S. Olympic and Paralympic Museum offered the perfect opportunity to celebrate athletic excellence;
to mock-compete in several sports categories by testing memory, reflexes and endurance;
and provide exhibition space for thousands of Olympic artifacts collected over the years.
After capturing a clever montage from the digital mural in the building foyer,
it was time to watch the Colorado Springs Switchbacks take the pitch at Weidner Field against Monterey Bay, but not until after the cloudburst,
when the unexpected hail finally had a chance to melt.
While Carrie and clan cruised to nearby Cañon City to view the Royal Gorge (our destination in 2 weeks,
Leah and I returned to Garden of the Gods,
before continuing to Manitou Springs to visit the urban fauna…
and flora.
Ironically, we’ve recently visited Carrie and clan at home in Cedar Crest, NM after 7 weeks of subsequent travel to dozens of different destinations…
which is a sore reminder of how far behind I am in chronicling this summer adventure, whether it’s because of inconsistent internet on the road or enjoying myself too much to stay current.
I never considered Kansas to be particularly picturesque (no offense, Kansas), and rarely in the running for Most Beautiful State title.
Driving westbound on I-70, my initial impression of Kansan landscape was a blur of high plains, pastureland and fields of fodder as far as the eye could see. The drive was basically a bore and staying alert was becoming a challenge. I glanced at Leah. She was slack-jawed with her head back and pretend-listening to an audiobook.
I activated the ALEXA app on the dash display.
“Hey Alexa,” I intonated and enunciated, “Name the flattest state in America.”
Alexa quickly responded with, “By any measure, Florida takes the prize for the flattest state in the nation [along with its flat-earth thinking, of late] because the highest point in the state is only 345 ft above sea level… Kansas merely ranks seventh in flatness.”
Nevertheless, Kansas does have an honorary mountain barely within its western border, making it the highest point in Kansas at 4039 ft.
There was another notable elevation change that Leah and I explored before we reached the Rockies. We scheduled a stop at Lake Scott State Park (elev. 2979 ft) to break up the drive between Topeka and Colorado,
stretch our legs,
and discover the Badlands of Kansas.
But first, we detoured 15 miles east to Monument Rocks.
As the first National Natural Landmark in Kansas designated by the Department of the Interior,
we thought we ought to pay our respects, and we were just shaking our heads at the many visitors who couldn’t wait to desecrate the brittle, 50 ft chalk towers.
Although the formations were small in stature and compact in scale,
they were a site to admire,
and fun to explore!
See ya, fella.
With this tasty morsel served and enjoyed, our appetites were whetted for the main course.
I really wanted to be awestruck by the vision and overwhelmed by the novelty of the geology, but what I saw was a craggy white cliff with spots of color in an unexpected location.
And while it was anything but ordinary…
it failed the goosebump test.
I really wanted this as a win for Kansas, but I got the impression that Kansas wasn’t as prepared as its closest competitor across the border.
Was I becoming, perhaps, jaded?
“Hey Alexa, what’s the longest, straight highway in America?
Much has happened since leaving Bonnaroo for Denver. There’s been a long-distance get-together in Rogers, Arkansas with a nursery school buddy from Pittsburgh…
and a long-overdue reunion with family from Pittsburgh, who now reside in Overland Park, Kansas.
We’ve also kept a watchful eye on the weather–always tracking the extreme conditions that have been swirling around us, the likes of tornadoes, hail, flooding, land slides, and record-setting heat streaks–yet with each destination, we’ve mostly managed to dodge a bullet.
There was also a handful of visits to some iconic sites along the way, and some less familiar, but definitely photo worthy.
Our first stop took us to Parker’s Crossroads, halfway between Nashville and Memphis, and the site of a celebrated Civil War skirmish in West Tennessee.
It was the final battle for Confederate Brig. Gen. Nathan Bedford Forrest, who managed to outfox the Union brigades of Col. Cyrus L. Dunham and Col. John W. Fuller by escaping with his regiment across the Tennessee River and avoiding certain defeat in the face of an enemy nearly twice the size with two times the artillery.
Leah and I took the walking tour past interpretive markers depicting critical moments in the battle, and observed that Parker’s Crossroads battlefield, while a testament to the 737 fallen soldiers,
should also be appreciated for its serenity and pastoral scenes.
Only 45 miles west of us was Tennessee Safari Park in Alamo,
where we looped around a drive-thru zoo for an hour with 4 buckets of animal nachos for hungry wildlife roaming freely throughout the fenced prairie. We were immediately greeted by an aggressive mob of ostriches and camels that descended upon our truck sensing a meal was imminent.
With the passenger window down, Leah tentatively extended the bucket beyond the door, only to have the bucket ripped from her hand by a dromedary with no manners and fewer eating skills.
Kibble went flying everywhere–inside and outside the truck. Even today, I’m still fishing out morsels between the seats. Lesson learned.
However, the lure of food was a perfect ploy for pet portraits…
Continuing west, we traveled to Little Rock, home to the Clinton Presidential Center, dedicated on November 18, 2004.
We parked the Airstream directly across the Arkansas River in North Little Rock by a decommissioned WW II tug and sub…
and cycled the long way around the riverwalk trail (some of it kinda sketchy),
past the Big Dam Bridge…
until we circled back 8 mi. to Clinton’s library–a hulking structure clad in glass screens that cantilevers over the Arkansas River as a symbol of “building a bridge to the 21st century.” And it was air conditioned!
The building that houses Clinton’s legacy is enormous enough to collect and archive 2 million photos, 80 million document pages, 21 million e-mails, and 79,000 artifacts from the Clinton years (1993-2001).
Appealing graphics break down the headlines and the issues of the time: year by year, month by month, surrounded by wings dedicated to domestic policy, diplomacy, economy, education, civil rights, and scandal. It’s all on display throughout the Main Hall, modeled after the Long Room of Trinity College in Dublin.
Leah and I have launched another summer trip around the country–our 6th, for those of you who are counting–and while we usually leave in May, when Florida weather and politics become most offensive, we delayed our adventure by a month because I had the mad idea of attending the Bonnaroo Music and Arts Festival at Great Stage Park in Manchester, Tennessee, scheduled from June 15 – June 18.
By opting for a primitive RV site and a 4-day General Admission pass, we were guaranteed a grassy rectangle measuring 20 x 50 ft. for up to 6 days, and ongoing music from over 100 artists across all genres at 6 stages scattered over a 700-acre farm known as Centeroo.
For the next 5 days, we’d be totally reliant on our 39 gal. freshwater tank, and all the power we could muster from a roof-top solar array assisted by my F-150’s 7.2kW on-board generator.
This would be a huge conservation experiment for us, considering our current record for dry camping was achieved by overnighting at a Wal-Mart parking lot.
But first, a stopover in Nashville was warranted to prep the Airstream for the forthcoming festival, followed by mingling with the hoi polloi on Broadway after dark.
Of course, Nashville never disappoints, whether it’s the people…
the shopping…
or the Broadway bustle!
With a 70-mile drive ahead of us, we headed out at 7am on Thursday, anticipating festival traffic and longish check-in times at Outeroo campgrounds due to compulsory rig inspections for contraband.
Leah had done early research on Bonnaroo dos and don’ts, and each day, she would bring me an update of a new annoyance or inconvenience that always threatened to be a festival deal breaker.
“Did y’know,” Leah mentioned sometime in February, “that bicycles are not allowed inside the festival grounds.”
“Well, that sucks,” I replied, “considering we’ll be using them throughout the rest of our trip, and we have no choice but to take them with us. So what are we supposed to do with them?”
Leah located a bike shop en route to Nashville in Mufreesboro that would update the firmware on our ebikes and allow us to store a big black storage tub filled with glassware, cooking knives, and power tools–all restricted items inside Bonnaroo.
We arrived by 9am to less traffic than expected and even less fanfare during our inspection.
“Got any weapons?” asked a worker bee in a safety vest.
“Nope,” I responded.
He glanced at an over-stuffed backseat and truckbed without regard, then asked to see the inside of our Airstream. He poked his head through the door and announced. “I seen enuf, you’re good to go.”
“That’s it?” I said, whispering to Leah. “Is this a shakedown, or Is he fishing for a tip? Do you realize we could have brought everything with us instead of driving ourselves crazy with these bogus rules?”
“We carry an umbrella so it doesn’t rain,” is all she said.
We were directed through the gate and around a winding gravel road before we settled onto our grassy site,
and soon enough, we were surrounded by a non-stop tailgate party defined by beer, wine, and weed. Canopies, tents, and rigs of all shapes and sizes helped form a kaleidoscopic quilt of shelters and good times.
Randy from Alabama, my RV camping neighbor and veteran of a dozen Bonnaroo summers regaled us with many interesting stories of past concerts, and offered valuable advice on how to survive the weekend. When Leah lamented about the prospects of standing in the heat for hours with the hoards, Randy had the perfect solution.
“There’s an accessibility tent before you get to the Bonnaroo arch, and the staff there can issue a permit for your chairs and provide access to all the viewing platforms near the stages,” he suggested.
“Well, that’s a gamechanger,” I exclaimed. So Leah and I did as Randy recommended. We donned our knee braces, wandered through the Plaza 7 village,
and the Grove…
before we limped into the accessibility tent, where an attendant with multi-colored hair and a tiger tattoo registered us with ADA bracelets. Mission accomplished.
On Thursday, we learned that the 4-day passes and all Outeroo camping had sold out.
Weather in Petra can be unpredictable in January. A year ago–on January 26–it was snowing, but today, the temperature would reach 60o and the sky would remain cloudless. What better time to take a hike through history, and walk amongst one of history’s most remarkable endeavors.
With overnight accommodations at Movenpick–directly across the street from the Petra Visitor Center–access to the Old City was most convenient. We assembled early in the town center. The square was quiet except for shops looking for early customers,
and a stray puppy gnawing on a breakfast bone.
Our group gathered around a large map in town center to plan our hike.
Ahmad explained the many ways to get to Petra’s ruins: by foot, golfcart, donkey, horse, or camel. But the only road that takes us there–courtesy of George Lucas, who paved the way for a dramatic scene from Steven Spielberg’s Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade–runs through a narrow gorge known as As Siq,
which is nearly a mile from Al-Khazneh, known as the Treasury.
Beyond the Treasury, it’s another mile past Temenos Gate to the end of the Colonnaded Street…
that leads to Qasr al-Bint–Petra’s most intact structure and Nabataean temple.
Ahmad suggested we take our time by foot, but after that, we’re on our own–for as long as we like–and we can return by any means of conveyance.
Once we understood the plan, we started out: past Djinn Blocks–a series of three imposing funerary monuments;
an iconic, two-story Obelisk Tomb;
and a Bedouin musician who may have been busking to buy an extra string for his DIY rababah.
We followed the road through high walls of colorful sandstone, where rocks resembled elephant creations…
and human profiles,
with twisted stone rising upwards of 600 ft (183 m),
and narrow as 10 ft (3 m) across,
until we neared the end of the passage. Ahmad had us form a line and close our eyes as he guided us through the last bend in the gorge.
When the moment was right, we opened our eyes for the big reveal…
and it was a revelation! First light was streaming across the canyon walls,
and bathing the iconic façade with golden sunlight. It was truly a sight to behold! Ahamad declared, “I love my job!”
Petra has been written about to near exhaustion. There’s not much more I can add about the Nabataean Kingdom that UNESCO World Heritage Convention hasn’t already mentioned, so I will say it in pictures and leave the words to UNESCO:
Inhabited since prehistoric times, this Nabataean caravan-city, situated between the Red Sea and the Dead Sea, was an important crossroads between Arabia, Egypt and Syria-Phoenicia. Petra is half-built, half-carved into the rock, and is surrounded by mountains riddled with passages and gorges. It is one of the world’s most famous archaeological sites, where ancient Eastern traditions blend with Hellenistic architecture.
Situated between the Red Sea and the Dead Sea and inhabited since prehistoric times, the rock-cut capital city of the Nabateans, became during Hellenistic and Roman times a major caravan centre for the incense of Arabia, the silks of China and the spices of India, a crossroads between Arabia, Egypt and Syria-Phoenicia. Petra is half-built, half-carved into the rock, and is surrounded by mountains riddled with passages and gorges.
An ingenious water management system allowed extensive settlement of an essentially arid area during the Nabataean, Roman and Byzantine periods. It is one of the world’s richest and largest archaeological sites set in a dominating red sandstone landscape.
The Outstanding Universal Value of Petra resides in the vast extent of elaborate tomb and temple architecture; religious high places;
the remnant channels, tunnels and diversion dams that combined with a vast network of cisterns and reservoirs which controlled and conserved seasonal rains,
and the extensive archaeological remains including of copper mining, temples,
churches and other public buildings.
The fusion of Hellenistic architectural facades with traditional Nabataean rock-cut temple/tombs including Al-Khazneh, the Urn Tomb,
the Palace Tomb, the Corinthian Tomb,
and the Deir (“monastery”) represents a unique artistic achievement and an outstanding architectural ensemble of the first centuries BC to AD.
The varied archaeological remains and architectural monuments from prehistoric times to the medieval periods bear exceptional testimony to the now lost civilisations which succeeded each other at the site.
Petra was a marvel. And it may have been the overwhelming feeling of awesomeness that gave us the energy to return to the plaza by foot and express our satisfaction. So too thought the young girl with special needs, who spontaneously shared the moment with Leah.
There was so much cultural, historical and scientific significance to absorb in a day, which led me to conclude that the worst thing about Petra was not having another day to do it all over again.
According to the Old Testament (Deuteronomy, 34:6), Moses–at 120 years–ascended the highest crest of Mount Nebo (800m) to view the Jordan Valley.
Although Moses led the sons and daughters of Israel out of bondage from Egypt, Moses was forbidden by God to escort them to the Promised Land.
With every step up the mountain, Moses would contemplate his sin of doubting God’s concern and commitment to The Chosen People. Was it anger or despair that provoked Moses into raising his staff and twice striking the Rock so his congregants and their cattle could drink from the wellspring that burst through the ground, and quell their complaining?
A shrine in Wadi Musa purports to be the perennial natural spring that arose from the rock struck by Moses. The site is most popular among Christian and Muslim pilgrims who travel from all parts to drink from the sacred well.
As for me, I took a hard pass; the water was running slow and low, and too risky to sample.
But the miracle performed by Moses sealed his fate. With Joshua assuming a new leadership role, Moses trekked to the highest point on the western ridge of the ancient Plains of Moab for a view of the Holy Land.
Perhaps God provided Moses with a befitting yet bittersweet panorama before he died, other than the hazy scene that I managed to capture.
All the churches atop Mount Nebo were erected over time to commemorate the death of Moses. The earliest known chapel dates to the 3rd century, followed by a 4th century monastery built to support Christian pilgrims.
20th century archaeologists excavated an intact mosaic floor within the baptistery of the chapel that depicts the cultural life of the Byzantine era–
surrounded by figurative motifs with geometric design flourishes…
that also adorn the walls.
and it’s all been preserved in a new church sanctified by the Franciscan Order in 2018.
The mountaintop is rich with artifacts sponsored by the Franciscans. The serpentine cross atop Mount Nebo was created by Italian artist Gian Paolo Fantoni to symbolize the miracle of the bronze serpent forged by Moses in the wilderness (Numbers 21:4–9) and the crucifixion of Jesus, whereas the stone Monolith was sculpted by Vincenzo Bianchi in honor of Pope John Paul II’s visit during the Great Jubilee of 2000.
As part of the Pope’s pilgrimage to Jordan, he planted an olive tree seedling that he dedicated to peace in the Holy Land.
Ironically, while the tree has prospered, peace has yet to bloom.
Having admired the mosaics of Madaba and Mount Nebo, our group got a personal look at the process at Jordan Jewel Art & Mosaic, which was created in 2008 through Jordan’s Queen Noor Foundation Community Development Initiative as a means of preserving an ancient artisanship introduced by the Greeks over two thousand years ago.
The project has also been a boon to tourism and employment within the governate, with over 100 mosaicists working at the studio or from home, creating historical souvenirs for tourists.
Depending on the pattern and the size, the mosaic can be extremely detailed, at times requiring tens of thousands of intricately-sized tiles and several weeks to complete.
Our crew eventually returned to Madaba for a traditional lunch at Hikayet Sitti (“My Grandmother’s Story”)–a family-owned restaurant in an old home belonging to the Karadsheh family through many generations.
It now belongs to Feryal, the gracious owner/chef who prepared a tasty array of mezza (appetizers) to start,
and a kettle-sized helping of Maqluba–a traditional Middle Eastern dish of chicken, vegetables and rice that’s prepared in a pot and presented upside down.
Feryal distributed the recipe to the home chefs among us, but as I read through the prep and ingredients, I was certain the dish was more complicated:
MAQLUBA
• Fry pieces of eggplant, cauliflower, and potatoes • Boil pieces of chicken • Arrange at the bottom of the cooking pan pieces of tomatoes, carrots, onions, sweet pepper, and garlic • Then add the fried eggplant, cauliflower, and the potatoes • Add pieces of chicken • Cook them together with water • Add the rice to cook together • Add black pepper, cinnamon, nutmeg and cardamom, cumin, cloves, coriander • Cook until water is evaporated • Put it on low fire for 5 minutes • Let it rest for 5 minutes • Serve it as upside down
As we savored every bite, we were invited to put our tastebuds to the test by identifying all seven spices in our food. My mind immediately raced to episodes of Hell’s Kitchen, when contestants competed in blind tastings for Gordon Ramsey, and the winner received a hot air balloon ride with a champagne lunch.
But Feryal was offering something much better. The prize at Hikayet Sitti was a cold beer from her brother’s brewery… and it was delicious.
After lunch, the coach stopped briefly at Shobak Castle (12th century) enroute to Petra, just as the sun broke through the haze to shower the ruins in golden light.
The castle is a stark reminder of Crusader glory amidst the plunder and ruin of the times.
Our coach driver raced the last hour to Petra with the hope that we’d arrive in time for sunset, and we were duly rewarded with a perfect sky in Wadi Musa just as the sun was falling behind Mount Hor.
It was a good omen for our excursion to Petra the following day…
We were a crew of 48 aboard the Viking Ra, divided into 2 camps of 24 travelers who identified as Bus A or Bus B.
Most of the cruisers returned home at the end of our Nile excursion, but 18 intrepid globetrotters–a union of both buses–continued our journey to Jordan for four nights, where we were greeted at Queen Alia International Airport by Ahmad Al Khaldi, our tour director and self-proclaimed terrorist, who adopted the moniker after once guiding the brother of ventriloquist/comedian Jeff Dunham.
Upon arrival to Amman, we boarded a coach for a half-hour ride to Madaba. It was an ambitious itinerary with a lot of ground to cover before reaching the Dead Sea,
but we quickly knew–given the depth of Ahmad’s knowledge, wit, and organization skills–that we were in good hands.
During the half-hour ride to Madaba we absorbed some background about this ancient city that’s renowned for its skilled mosaic artisans,
and its deeply religious ties to Christianity and Islam.
After an orientation of one ofJordan’s holiest landmarks,
we headed to Madaba’s feature attraction… the Greek Orthodox Basilica of Saint George,
where the current structure, consecrated in 1896 is adorned by mosaic icons on every pillar…
but it’s the mosaic floor that’s the star of St. George and Madaba!
The partially restored mosaic map of the Holy Land originates from the 6th century, and was excavated in 1884 when the current church was built atop the ruins of the original Byzantine church. Over 2 million tiles comprise a detailed rendering of the Middle East with surprising detail and accuracy, making it both an artistic masterpiece, and the oldest surviving representation of familiar biblical sites.
We bypassed Mt. Nebo (to be explored the following day) and continued to the Dead Sea Museum,
where we enjoyed an aerial panarama of the Jordan Rift Valley with the lowest elevation on earth (-1410 ft).
and a closer examination of the area’s geological and cultural significance.
Developers see tremedous potential in promoting Dead Sea tourism, touting first-class accomodations and access to its briney beaches. And they’re wasting little time in hotel construction,
because at it’s current rate of evaportion, the Dead Sea will cease to exist by 2050.
Shortly after checking into the sprawling Movenpick village…
it was time to relax with a mud treatment,
and a bouyant soak. What a feeling!
There’s been lots of internet chatter about which country, Israel or Jordan, has the best beaches. The answer is easy: it’s whichever one you’re on!
However, the east coast scores extra points for hosting the sunset over Jerusalem most nights.
Like many ancient civilizations, Egyptians were obsessed with religion and mythology. They pledged their love and devotion to more than 700 distinct deities entrusted to protect the natural order of all things (wind, water, sun, sky, etc.) from creation to afterlife. In exchange, the devout would be rewarded with an everlasting life of prosperity, good fortune, and happiness… once they reached their final destination–the Underworld.
Gods and goddesses were personified as powerful creatures,
and hybridized animals,
and amalgams of animals and humans.
Egyptian paganism lasted long into the 5th century. However, with Egypt situated at the intersection of Europe, North Africa, and the Middle East, Egypt was also at the crossroads of influence when monotheism gained a foothold in the Middle East and spread throughout the continents.
When synchronizing Egyptian chronology and Old Testament timelines, the earliest record of monotheistic worship in Ancient Egypt occurred during a time of remarkable prosperity when Joseph–in his role as Grand Vizier of Egypt–governed and fed its people, while surrounding neighbors faced famine and hardship.
This informed Jacob’s decision to relocate his clan from Canaan to Egypt in search of provisions and an unforeseen reunion with his son. Biblical scholars have speculated the date to be 1875 BC.
This led to the eventual settlement of the Israelites, whose numbers may have grown to 2,000,000 over the next 430 years, until the storied Exodus–which would have occurred in Year 18 of Thutmose III’s reign–in 1446 BC.
Interestingly, Amenemhat, Thutmose III’s first-born and heir apparent, mysteriously predeceased his father, and was inscribed on a column at the Temple of Amun at Karnak shortly after the death of Hatshepsut and the subsequent accession of his father to Pharaoh.
Religious reform from polytheism to pagan monotheism was momentarily embraced by Amenhotep IV during the his reign (c. 1358–1341 BC).
For some unknown reason, he changed his name to Akhenaten and elevated the cult of Aten (the sun disc) as the one and only true God.
Akhenaten went so far as to scrub all references of Amun-Ra from Karnak and build a new worship center and capital in Amarna, 170 km south of Thebes. But Atenism was short-lived; it never survived Akhenaten death, as he was so reviled by the priests that critics would often refer to Akhenaten as the Heretic King.
Subsequently, Tutankhamen–upon his ascension to the throne–reverted to worshipping Amun-Ra with his wife/half-sister, Ankhesenamun. He was 8 and she was 13 when they wed, albeit she was previously married to her father for a short time.
They had two daughters together; both were stillborn. Tut died suddenly at 18 from a fall or malaria or both, leaving Ankhe without an heir. She remarried Ay (presumedly her maternal grandfather), the next pharaoh, and soon disappeared from history.
Polytheism remained the cultural norm for the following 1,400 years, until Egypt bore witness to the seeds of a new cultural revolution when the Holy Family escaped the wrath of Herod the Great’s infanticide decree c. 7 BC, and sought refuge in Egypt for the next three-and-a-half years.
Their journey through the Sinai dessert and across the Nile to Heliopolis…
brought them to the Roman fort of Babylon in Old Cairo,
where they found shelter in a cave for the next three months,
which would later become the foundation for the Church of Martyrs Sergius and Bacchus in The Cave (aka Abu Serga) built in the 4th century,
and the site of a water well which nourished Joseph, Mary and baby Jesus during their stay.
Other distinguishing features of the church include: the wall of painted icons;
and the precious relics of Saints Sergius and Baccus.
Worship of pagan deities began to wane around the late 4th and early 5th Centuries as Christianity became popular, and was finally outlawed in the 6th Century by Christian Roman Emperors. Consequently, Old Cairo became an important center of Christianity in the world, with Monasticism begetting Coptic Christianity, and extending throughout the Arab tribes.
With Coptic Christianity taking root, church worship proliferated in Byzantine Egypt, as did the number of churches in Old Cairo.
As Leah and I walked through Old Cairo, we were transported through history.
We took time to explore the Church of the Virgin (aka Hanging Church), which dates to the 3rd century.
Egypt was conquered by the Rashidun Caliphate in 646 AD, ending 7 centuries of Roman rule, but Christianity survived the war. The Arab invaders carried the Quran with them, and slowly converted the Copt population to Islam. By the end of the 12th century–which coincided with the end of the Crusades–the Christians lost their majority status thanks to intermittent persecution, destruction of Christian churches, and forced conversions by the Muslim brigade.
Today, Coptic Christianity accounts for 10% of Egypt’s population. And while they are mindful of their slim minority and occasional, bigoted backlash, the Copts are not shy about their zeal.
Nubian Coptic Church, Esna
The survival of Judaism in Egypt has been less fortunate. Only 100 Jews remain in Egypt, mostly concentrated in Alexandria. To date, only three Jews live in Cairo, and all are women. The youngest of the bunch is Magda Haroun, age 70, and the elected representative of Cairo’s Jewish community.
Ben Ezra Synagogue, 9th century AD
But Magda is living proof that all three religions can co-exist under the same roof. After all, her ex-husband is Muslim, as are their two daughters, and her current husband is Catholic.
The Viking Ra was cruising steadily from Edfu to Luxor on the final leg of our Nile adventure… until we encountered the Esna lock with a 6-ship back up. With each passage through the lock requiring about 20 minutes, we were looking at a 2-hour layover before we’d be underway, so what better way to spend the time than to shop… again.
Viking and I have visited a variety of revered venues vital to vending, but the finest one was the first one–Khan El-Khalili in Old Cairo–one of the oldest and largest open-air souks for whatever you never need, but find it necessary to own.
But that was just the beginning of so many other shopping opportunities we discovered along the way, whether it was sourcing a simple souvenir at a temple souk;
or buying a bolt of fancy fabric at a textile shop;
or funding a furnishing from a village storefront;
or securing a special spice at the food bazaar;
or raising thousands for a hand-knotted rug at a weaving studio.
There was also a gift shop aboard the Ra, where an Armenian jeweler could craft 18K gold into personalized cartouche earrings and pendants for a pretty price.
In fact, there was nary a place we visited, where Ra passengers couldn’t “get their shopping on,” to the extent that a few passengers required an extra suitcase to transport their trinkets and treasures.
Deck hands used the extra time to swab the main deck and raise a clean flag,
while passengers on the sun deck flocked to the starboard side to find our riverboat nearly surrounded by a band of merchants in blue rowboats, reminiscent of how Somali pirates operate, but with a enterprising purpose.
It was an interesting phenomena, but rather than explain it, I believe this video best captures the merchandising protocol.
Shopping on the Nile at Esna Lock
Items for inspection usually arrived by air mail–rolled up and bagged. Unwanted items were returned the same way, but errant tosses to the boat got wet on occasion. Money was exchanged by sealing it in a tied bag with a returned item.
Eventually after two hours, it was our turn to pass through the lock. Surprisingly, the merchants who tied their vessels to the Ra were carried along–still haggling with their Habibis before finally disengaging on the downriver side of Esna lock.
Even more surprising… Leah and I didn’t purchase a single thing!
Egypt has relied on the Nile since the dawn of civilization. For over 5000 years, the Nile has pushed nutrient-rich silt through its 6600-km waterway from the wellsprings of Lake Tana in Ethiopia (Blue Nile) and Lake Victoria in Uganda (White Nile), on its way through Cairo, where it eventually runs across the delta and drains into the Mediterranean.
Just as the Nile shaped the landscape, it also shaped a society that believed in the Nile’s magical properties. Ancient Egyptians believed that gods controlled the Nile. They venerated Sobek, the crocodile god who created the Nile,
and prayed to Khnum–lord of the water–who fertilized the river banks, thus enabling Hapi, the goddess of ‘Annual Flooding’ to enrich and irrigate Egyptian crops.
Pharaohs used the Nile as a transit zone for long-hauling building supplies between coastal cities, and establishing monuments to the gods and themselves along the way, like the temple of Kalabsha in Nubia.
Even Aga Khan thought the bank of the Nile was a good idea for a Fatimid mausoleum.
Yet the river that once placed Egypt at the center of the civilized world for 3 millennia is now on life support, and poses a serious threat to the welfare of Egypt’s agriculture, aquaculture, and transportation sectors.
Unfortunately, the matter has been complicated by issues that stem from Egypt’s internal struggles, while the nation also battles other problems originating from south of the border.
For one, Egypt’s population already exceeds 110M, and is projected to swell to 121M in 2030, 160M in 2050, and 225M in 2100.
Egypt’s alarming growth rate over the past millennium has placed the country in economic jeopardy for the foreseeable future. Presently, nearly one-third of the country lives in poverty.
Additionally, with 97% of a dependent population living along the banks of the Nile and its delta, the existential threat to the river Nile has heightened significantly.
Intervention by Egypt over time has resulted in benefits and new challenges…
By partnering with the Soviets between 1960 and 1970,
Soviet-Egypt Friendship Monument
Egypt constructed the Aswan High Dam–an immense embankment dam–upriver from the original Aswan Dam completed by the British in 1902.
It’s purpose: to control flooding;
provide increased water storage for irrigation;
generate hydropower;
and encourage tourism–all seen as pivotal to Egypt’s industrialization.
Yet, there have been unintended environmental consequences to damming the Nile:
The dam restricts passage of rich volcanic sediment that once swept along the entire riverbed, but now struggles to reach the Mediterranean.
The Nile Delta has lost a substantial amount of arable land due to the Nile’s inability to provide an unabated flow rate to defeat a rising sea.
A 15 cm rise in the Mediterranean’s sea-level over the past century is expected to double over the next 30 years from climate change.
To compensate for the salination of the soil, farmers must pump more fresh water from the Nile onto their crops, causing additional pollution from synthetic fertilizer runoff.
According to the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, the U.N.’s group of climate scientists predict the impact on the Nile will be catastrophic. They say it will lose 70% of its flow by the end of the century, with the water supply plummeting to a third of its present capacity.
Good for camels, but not for human survival.
Egyptian officials have also been wrangling over water rights and diplomacy with Ethiopian counterparts, arguing that their water security has been irreparably compromised.
However, more than half of Ethiopia’s 110 million people currently live in the dark. Their leadership is hopeful that the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam on the Blue Nile (begun in 2011) will help to electrify the country and generate power for export.
Consequently, the Renaissance Reservoir will cause a 25% loss of hydropower generated by the Aswan High Dam, a reduction in Lake Nasser’s water retention, and a reduction to Egypt’s flow rate by as much as 25%.
With anticipated droughts in East Africa, a 2oC rise in temperature across the region, and a population crisis that begets increased poverty, it’s imperative that competing countries begin cooperating with each other to protect their citizens and their mutual interests.
Getting to know the people of Egypt is equally as magical as the ancient architecture and history. Wandering around the Nubian neighborhoods was a great way to observe the locals at work and at play. What follows is a portrait gallery of faces in their familiar places:
This man is paid to remove wrinkles. His cheeks are filled with water, which he sprays across a bolt of cotton fabric. Now he’s ready to run his foot across it with a scorching hot iron.
Finished products are then delivered to the fabric merchants, who specialize in either female or male colors.
The town tailor likely receives an order to design a proper galabeya…
or a pile of pillows and textile merchandise.
For pillows and mattresses that flatten or sag over time, it’s time to visit the wool fluffer, who will beat the filling until it’s been rejuvenated.
Busy mornings are usually followed by a bite to eat.
some shopping…
or a smoke.
It’s safe to say that locals feel more secure, when they’re protected by the guard on patrol,
or washed by the man who prepares your body for burial.
The school bus may not be yellow,
but it gets the kids to school on time…
where they are very receptive to strangers with cameras,
which is more than I can say when the tables are turned.
In ancient times, the Nile split the imperial city of Thebes in two parts:
On the east bank, a fertile garden where 80,000 Egyptians lived and worked, called “City of the Living;”
and along the west bank, Egyptian royalty huddled with their architects and priests to select the best nest for rest in “City of the Dead.”
Occasionally, it was a family affair, with namesake mummies networking in the same vicinity–no doubt, making it easier to pay respects on Pharaohs Day.
Unlike Giza, the only thing resembling a pyramid in the Valley of the Kings is Al Qurn, the highest peak in the Theban Hills at 420 meters.
Perhaps this gave the pharaohs some ancestral comfort, knowing their final journey to eternity had topographical similarities.
At last count, international expeditions have excavated 65 crypts concentrated within the Valley of the Kings and Queens, with only 11 tombs available for viewing.
But the most remarkable thing about this vast necropolis is what’s waiting to be discovered. Hardly a day goes by without hearing of a new discovery from the dozens of white “dig” tents that dot Luxor and Giza.
Easily, the most famous discovery came from British archaeologist, Howard Carter,
whose remarkable discovery of King Tutankhamen’s tomb in 1922 created a global sensation.
But seeing is believing.
Viewing the tomb requires a special ticket, and admission is limited.
Equally impressive is the remote Temple of Deir el-Bahri (KV22), anchored to the rockface below Al Qurn.
It was commissioned by Hatshepsut, who broke the aristocratic glass ceiling in 1480 BC by becoming Egypt’s first female pharaoh. Throughout her 22-year reign as king, she cross-dressed as a male, wearing a fake beard, a traditional headdress (nemes) with cobra, and a short kilt like her male predecessors.
While controversial as a female pharaoh, and all but erased by her successors, Hatshepsut’s place in history was secured as the only female interred in the Valley of Kings.
Nearby, the Valley of the Queens is only 2 km away by club cart conveyance,
where the shining star of the valley is Nefertari’s tomb.
Officials require a special admission ticket–that only allows 10 visitors at a time to roam through the chambers for only 10 minutes–upon theorizing that reduced traffic likely reduces environmental impact.
Nefertari was the first of Ramses’ II Great Royal Wives (6 in total). In fact, he was so smitten by Nefertari’s beauty, that he built her the grandest tomb on the block, and shared his glory side-by-side at Abu Simbal.
Besides her good looks, Nefertari earned her place at the palace table as the king’s court communicator. She was a writer, a strategist, and a skilled diplomat in support of her husband.
A long tunnel empties into an antechamber…
followed by a second staircase,
that leads to a burial chamber…
supported by elaborately painted columns,
with finely decorated funerary rooms at the wings,
featuring the sacred bull and seven celestial cows, who collectively represent the Goddess Hathor.
Given today’s global issues of gender identity, glass ceiling theory, propaganda, and branding, it might be wise to take a papyrus out of ancient Egypt’s playbook for the benefit of clarity.
If temples had beauty pageants, then Dendera’s Temple of Hathor would surely win. Only an hour’s float downriver from Luxor, Dendera Temple shines like a polished gemstone on the Nile for all of Hathor’s devotees.
Regarded as the “Mistress of the Vagina,” Hathor exemplified ancient Egyptian femininity as the goddess of love, beauty, music, dancing, fertility, and pleasure…and its all on display at her temple.
From a distance, it’s an unassuming temple,
obscured by a surrounding wall of mudbrick rubble with a golden glow.
However, it stands wonderfully intact for a structure built 2000 years ago, albeit atop the remains of another sanctuary that predates its commission by 2250 years.
While Temples of Karnak and Luxor were built to worship Amun-Ra–the alpha-male of all New Kingdom deities, who brought sun, light, and daily creation to the world–their energy is very androcentric.
Whereas, the Temple of Dendera exudes a powerful yet feminine charm,
evidenced by the 18 four-sided capitals of Hathor–with her cow-eared likeness–supporting the Hypostyle Hall.
Unfortunately, all carvings of Hathor were deliberately defaced by Christian iconoclasts who sheltered within its walls.
Their open fires lined the chamber surfaces with centuries of soot–obscuring the bas-relief paintings–
until a delegation of French archaeologists recently restored the artwork to its original colors.
Hathor’s temple was most likely commissioned during the second rule of Ptolemy XII in 54 BC until his death in 51 BC, and overseen by his successor daughter, Queen Cleopatra VII and her son King Caesarion until her suicide in 30 BC. They are both enshrined on the temple’s outer rear wall.
Romans embellished the temple compound by constructing the Gate of Domitian and Trajan in lieu of a traditional Egyptian pylon,
but stayed true to the Greco-Egyptian design by invoking Nekhbet (vulture goddess and protector of Upper Egypt and its rulers) beneath the lintel.
and beyond the temple columns.
Emperor Trajan also completed a Roman Kiosk in the forecourt.
There’s a wealth of illustrations and hieroglyphic stories throughout Hathor’s temple…
However, the real beauty can be found in the artistic renderings of astrological symbols painted across the Hypostyle Hall, where Goddess Nut ordains the passage of time in a celestial barge.
The masterpiece of the temple is surely the circular zodiac chart of the ancient sky that’s located on the ceiling at the entrance to the Chapel of Osiris–
accessed via a processional staircase that leads to the temple’s rooftop.
Amid controversy, the original engraving was blasted from the ceiling in 1821, and stolen away to France, where it currently hangs in the Louvre Museum in Paris.
Alas, a replica hangs in the chapel.
Which begs the question: Was it guilt and reparations that brought the French back to Dendera to supervise the restoration?
Our wake-up call was 4 AM, and the last thing on my mind was a boxed breakfast to go. I also decided to pass on coffee, thinking I couldn’t risk the chance of floating over the Valley of Kings in a wicker basket (invented by the Egyptians 5000 years ago) and needing to puke or pee.
Meanwhile, Leah had prepared for flight with Dramamine as her go-to prophylactic.
This was not our first ballooning adventure. A few years ago, Leah and I got to float over the Okavango Delta at sunrise with a pilot and 4 others (see Botswana by Balloon). But this time around, we’d be floating over the Valley of Kings, and it got my adrenalin pumping.
The desert air was cool, and the winds were calm–the perfect forecast. We arrived by boat to the east bank of the Nile,
and boarded a sprinter van that dropped us at a vast open field where teams of wranglers were already preparing for launch.
We were given our balloon assignment, and climbed aboard with 25 other “ballunatics.” After a safety drill of “hunker down and brace,” we were ready for lift off.
We felt so small standing under a canopy of hot air and rainbow-colored nylon fabric…
rising 60 feet above us–
not unlike the early morning visitors who had come to gaze at the gargantuan relics of Amenhotep III at his nearby necropolis.
In time, we were joined by so many other aeronauts gliding along the thermals,
that it seemed like heavier traffic in the sky…
than on earth.
Our birds eye perspective brought us closer to the Theban Mountains,
with views of Medinet Habu,
the verdant fields of sugarcane,
and a volume of unfinished housing–a deliberate work-in-progress ploy by locals to avoid paying property tax on completed homes.
But mostly, flying high prepared us for the forthcoming sunrise…
that blossomed before our eyes.
A sight to behold!
Forty-five minutes of fly-time flew by, until it was time for our descent…
at which point the wranglers took over.
Just watching them wrestling with the deflated balloon and lines gave me an appetite.
Breakfast never tasted so good, although the requisite champagne that usually accompanies one’s flight certificate was absent.
Perhaps, the authorities reasoned that our afternoon visit to Dendera Temple in Qena would be best experienced sober.
November, 2021 was a cause for celebration in Luxor, as the Ministry of Tourism and Antiquities marked the formal reopening of the Avenue of Sphinxes with a parade attended by Abdel Fattah Al-Sisi, president of Egypt.
The 1.7 mile boulevard connecting the temples between Karnak and Luxor once boasted 1200 sphinxes. They were buried for centuries under several meters of sand, but are now revealed after 70 years of intermittent excavation and restoration.
Initiated by Amenhotep III and completed during the reign of Nectanebo I around 2,400 years ago, the impressive series of unearthed statues can be categorized into two shapes:
the first being a body of a lion with a ram’s head;
and the second and most reoccurring shape portrays a lion’s body supporting a human’s head.
Our daytime excursion to Karnak Temple was followed by an evening tour of Luxor Temple.
Although the entrance to the gate was originally flanked by twin obelisks, the right obelisk was gifted to France by Muhammad Ali Pasha, Ottoman ruler of Egypt in the early 19th century (see Walking Like an Egyptian), and now adorns the Place de la Concorde in Paris.
Several rulers contributed to the Temple of Luxor over the ages.
Although the temple was started by Amenhotep II in 1400 BC, Ramses II appropriated the first pylon with placement of a pair of black granite colossi of his likeness seated on a throne…
that depicted the unification of Upper and Lower Egypt.
Beyond the pylon, Ramses II also chose to enshrine 17 of his sons within a courtyard surrounded by double rows of columns capped with lotus-bud capitals. He fathered a minimum of 111 sons and 67 daughters.
The Courtyard of Ramses II flows into the Colonnade of Amenhotep III, dominated by seven pairs of 52 foot (16m) open-flower papyrus columns, which still support their huge architrave blocks.
The decoration of the Colonnade of Amenhotep III was largely undertaken by Tutankhamun, who is featured beside his Great Royal Wife, Queen Ankhesenamun, daughter of King Akhenaten and Queen Nefertiti.
Beyond the Colonnade, the Great Sun Court of Amenhotep III showcases the remains of a peristyle court with a double row of sixty columns with papyrus bundle capitals on three sides. They represent the best preserved and most elegant columns in the temple.
While Luxor Temple was conceived to celebrate the Theban trinity of Amun-Ra, married to God Mut, and son, God Khonsu, the religious focus of the adjacent chapels evolved over time from polytheism to Coptic Christianity during Roman rule, until the Muslim conquest of Egypt in the 7th century.
Thus, the Fatimid Caliphate inaugurated the Mosque of Abu El Hagag in 1286 atop the temple ruins and rubble, repurposing columns and stones to create a strange amalgam of Islamic civilization and ancient Egyptian civilization.
Ironically, the Opet Festival–originating during the 18th dynasty of the New Kingdom, and celebrated to promote the fertility of Amun-Ra and the Pharaoh–has now become an annual event.
Following a 3400-year old ritual, a royal procession parades from Karnak Temple to Luxor Temple along the Avenue of Sphinxes accompanying a statue of Amun-Ra within a barque of gold that rests on the shoulders of priests.
The news is enough to make Ramses II stand up and take notice.
After 3 days in Cairo, Leah and I were on the move!
We boarded a chartered prop jet with our fellow river cruisers and flew to Luxor,
to greet the Viking Ra–currently tied up alongside the Nile’s east bank. Ra was to be our floating hotel through the following week.
After attending an obligatory safety briefing aboard Ra,
we were soon exploring Luxor and it’s ancient counterpart, Thebes–home to kings and queens from the Middle Kingdom (c. 2000–1700 BC) through the Ptolemaic Kingdom (305–30 BC)–spanning 15 centuries of rule, until Egypt surrendered to the Romans.
Our tour of Luxor began with a visit to the Karnak Temple Complex, encompassing 247 acres, and considered the largest religious structure ever built.
Ram-headed sphinxes (called criosphinx) adorn both sides of the avenue leading to the unfinished, first pylon to honor Amun-Ra, Egypt’s most powerful god and Thebe’s patron deity of the Great Temple of Karnak.
The criosphinxes continue inside the Ethiopian Courtyard (IX Dynasty)–each one cradling an erect statue of Ramses II (c. 1279-1213 BC) between its forelegs.
It flanks the entrance to the temple of Ramses III.
The most impressive feature of the temple of Amun-Ra is the Great Hypostyle Hall, a forest of 134 sandstone columns centered by 12 colossal columns soaring 69 feet,
which supports the remains of a stone roof enclosed by massive walls,
and features intricately carved relief sculptures and hieroglyphs of religious and historical significance…
to honor each of the 30 kings who once ruled the imperial city.
After 3300 years, the site remains substantially intact, yet benefits from painstaking restoration.
After listening to commentary from our onboard Egyptologist, Leah and I strolled the grounds of the ancient temple trying to imagine the enormity of its scope:
while realizing that 3 other sections–the Precinct of Mut, the Precinct of Montu, and the Temple of Amenhotep IV–are also part of Karnak, and still under excavation and reconstruction.
Streaming thru America 