Luxor and the East Bank
Fortunately for me and my lock-inspired fatigue, we have a relatively late start this morning. (8am is a late start on our vacations, most days. yeah, yeah, yeah...) We are fortunate to have three days in the Luxor area, and can therefore focus on one bank of the river at a time. Today it is the East bank, home to the temples of Karnak and Luxor. Though often paired in descriptions, and in fact connected in ancient times, these two sites are very different.
The temple of Luxor is now in the center of the town. In fact, the railway station seems to have been situation with a deliberate aspect several blocks to the entrance. The older hotels surround it, and in fact it is a popular place for an evening stroll, gently washed in amber light from strategically placed spots. A bit too much like a movie set or a carefully Imagineered Disney ride, perhaps, but then again it might be where we got the idea. Despite an unfortunate tilt toward theatricality, the temple of Luxor is a lovely and significant place. The hypostyle hall, with its rows of enormous, yet graceful pillars is somehow uniquely lovely. Perhaps without its ceiling the eye better captures the grace of the columns themselves. Perhaps the contrast of the tan stone to the deeply blue, cloudless sky is what makes such an impression. In any case, one can for a minute ignore the incessant clamoring of Ramses cartouches on every conceivable surface and find peace and grace in this place. The most subdued of McDonald's logos looks on benevolently from across the street. Apparently the Sphinx got all the KFC, just like a cat.
Leading away from the pylon of Luxor is a causeway lined with ram statues. This leads some 3km to the entrance of the temple of Karnak, on the other side of town. The two ends of the causeway remain, but the town has very effectively blocked the remainder. Apparently from time to time construction projects unearth a ram, which is carefully deposited at one of the temples in the dead of night after construction has been safely completed. The government has a yen to reconstruct the causeway, allowing tourists to stroll from one temple to the other. The town is resisting. While I sympathize, I think perhaps they haven't thought of the possibilities inherent in a 3km tourist road. Some sort of cross between the Vegas strip, the San Antonio riverwalk, and Harvard square comes to mind. The Sofitel Ram Allee! Causeway Inn! Come to the Cafe Ramses, sip coffee in the moonlight, and watch the Son et Lumiere stretching across town.
Oh, dear, perhaps they have the right of it.
There is a very obvious precedent for this reluctance to give in to the ancients. Over the last 2000 years, a number of churches and mosques were constructed on top of the temple at Luxor. As the ground level rose, the streets and buildings covered the temple. In the 12th century, a very important if tiny mosque was built on top of the entry court. The mosque el-Hagag is one of the oldest in Luxor and is a lovely piece of Ottoman architecture besides. When the temple was cleared in the late 1880s, many other buildings were destroyed, but the mosque remained. To this day it is in use, perched some 30 feet above the floor of the temple. A side door now opens on nothing, but apparently a bar has been more than sufficient to serve as protection. The lights of the minaret in white and green neon and the white lit dome would seem to detract from the golden elegance of the temple at night, but honestly it just seems right. The perfect representation of Egypt, melding customs across the millennia with calm pragmatism.
Our next stop is the opposite side of the causeway , at the temple of Karnak . Calling this enormous complex a "temple" seems a bit of an understatement. Unlike other temples which can generally be traversed ina few minutes, this one is more a city than a single temple. The comparison is unfair, as many of the others are lacking their original courtyards, but still this temple is on an entirely different scale. Hundreds if not thousands of priests would be required to serve the many temples and shrines.
One of the most amazing feats of engineering in Egypt is here at Karnak, the great obelisk of Hatshepsut. Her temple at Deir el-Bahri tells the story of its quarrying in Aswan, its transport down the Nile strapped to a boat (good thing they didn't have locks!) and its erection at Karnak. These obelisks are huge, the largest in Egypt. What is amazing is not their quarrying or transport, though I certainly would not have wanted to pilot that boat, but rather their placement. They were somehow threaded inside two very small rooms constructed by her father. No model can make that obelisk fit through the small door of that room. Did they take down the temple, place the obelisk, and then rebuild it? Wouldn't that be rather disrespectful? The going theory is that they covered the temples in mud to create a ramp, then plopped the obelisk in the middle. Plausible, but still begs the question "why?"
Karnak holds many lovely items, and perhaps as many mysteries. If Sheshonk was indeed the Pharoah who sacked Jerusalem, why didn't he list it among conquered towns on his pylon? He listed every other hut he burned, including towns known to be in Judea, so where is it? How does biblical history match Egyptian dynastic history? Not very well sometimes, but how to resolve the differences? It is a fascinating place, and thankfully rather Ramses-free.
As the sun goes down, we wander through Luxor town. It's much smaller than Aswan, more a small town than a city. The market and surrounding area is quiet, ending just before you get to the Luxor temple. It's a lovely walk along the Nile, the Corniche softly lit, the lights reflecting in the water. It's just a touch cooler, as well, making the air fresher and the walk more pleasant.
Tonight, distressingly, is our last on the Sun Boat IV. It's become so comfortable and familiar, and we've been so spoiled that it's very hard to leave. Our farewell dinner is simply lovely, and the dessert is magnificent. Three huge pyramids of ice cream and cake, surrounded by chocolate palm trees. After a tour of the dining room for admiration, the chef drizzles flaming brandy over the points of each pyramid in turn. Their caramelized casing melts and runs down the sides, their points dissolving in flames and molten sugar. I find myself forming a very improbable theory as to the location of the casing stones of the pyramid of Khufu. One thing is certain -- flaming pyramid cake tastes wonderful.
