This isn't really in Aswan, but
the only way for tourists to get to it is a little flight from
Aswan's airport. This is the temple at Abu Simbel, a monument to
Ramses, who was something of an egomaniac. Those are four of him in
front, and most of the temple's reliefs are devoted to him
slaughtering and enslaving all comers, Nubians especially. The
mountain is artificial and hollow...the whole temple would have been
underwater if it hadn't been moved. That guy in the black shirt
between the rightmost two Ramseses is a tour guide, and his T-shirt
says "Abdul" on the front and "Follow Abdul Please" on the
back.
The temple of Hathor at Abu Simbel.
It's supposed to be dedicated to Hathor and Ramses's wife, but,
surprise, it's all about Ramses slaughtering and
enslaving.
This is a large chunk of Aswan as seen
from the roof of my hotel, the Nubian Oasis. Elephantine Island is in
the middle of the Nile, a lush place with a Nubian village that's fun
to walk through: the village is small enough to have no need for
vehicles, so the streets are wide enough for a couple of Egyptians to
pass down, which translates into about one and a half of us titanic
North Americans. The houses also have a more celebratory form of
decoration, but once again I missed taking decent pictures. Aswan was
warm, relaxed and the people were kind. I spent way too much time
there, from the perspective of someone who wanted to see lotsa
sights; aside from Philae and Abu Simbel, there's nothing eye-popping
around. Just a good place to relax. I ate an orange up on the roof
and in a little while the peel crunched under my foot: no humidity at
all. That little peak on the hill is a mausoleum, which is a nice
starting point for a walk across the dunes to the decaying monastery
of St Simeon. Dig under the rocks there and you can steal a certain
camel driver's drug stash, which I think is adequate recompense for
his being rather forward with me. The rule appears to be that all
foreigners are whores.
After a few days in my hotel room in
Aswan, Ramadan struck, which meant no meals, liquids, medicine, or
smokes during the day for the devout, but an orgy of gorging before
dawn and after dusk. That made dusk a nice time for a nap, because
the streets would empty out while everyone ran home and stuffed
themselves. Soon enough though, they'd come back out. The guys
extending the hovels into this dumping ground outside my window were
no fools: they only worked at night, so they could eat, drink, and
smoke while doing it. Bastards, hammering away at all hours, taking
valuable nesting space away from the flea-bitten felines and
garbage-eating chickens...hey, I guess those chickens are free-range,
huh?
Most of the sand in Egypt is actually a
deathly gray, but it's heavier than the yellow sand which blows
around and hides it. This is the monastery of St. Simeon, and the
walk to it is a good one for Indiana Jones fantasies. Not many
tourists seem to walk in the desert...can't think why. It's silent
and desolate in a really inspiring way. Deserts in Arizona seem like
fertile pastures in comparison.
Philae's another temple that would have
been lost under the waters of Lake Nasser, the lake formed by the
High Dam at Aswan, had it not been moved from one island to another
with the help of huge infusions of foreign cash. So you get to it via
little motorboats. It's a spectacle. Not to be missed.
Philae. Roman addition in the
background.
More Philae.
Heck, I think it's more Philae, this
time with people for scale, although I recall trying my damndest to
eliminate them.
This is probably a temple at Kalabsha,
another island temple rescued from hydroelectric might. My memory's
fuzzy on this one, but when I look at it I hear a security guard
bragging about just having acquired his second wife and fantasizing
about a further two. Yup, gotta be Kalabsha. Then the guy wanted
baksheesh (palm-greasing money) for having subjected me to his
company. Through all the temples, tombs, and whatnot, guys were
hanging around trying to point something out to you so they'd have an
excuse to ask you for baksheesh. Sadness, pity, annoyance...you could
feel all these plus a triumphant cruelty when you thought of slick
ways to brush them off or put columns between them and yourself. A
lot of the time they have little to offer but things like "Ramses.
Snake. Sun." Thanks professor.