It *is* just a river in Egypt!

We are in the midst of the second of two cruise experiences in Egypt. Currently, we have been herded on a Nile ship (the Crown Emperor) that is like a low-budget, floating, shabby Vegas hotel—- a Vegas hotel that is close to four mosques during Ramadan (I am listening to four independent call to prayers right now, each one started at a slightly different time, so there is a weird echo and discordance to the whole affair). We also happen to be one of the few Americans on this particular ship, which isn’t necessarily bad, but due to the high concentration of Japanese, Taiwanese, and Germans on board, we feel strangely isolated. The upside is that the female taiwanese tourists have no problem with floating in the pool while loudly making fun of the call to prayer (by imitating the warbling ‘Allah Ackbarrrrrrrrrrrrrr’). Inappropriate? Yes. Amusing given the piousness of Muslim men and the overall treatment of women in this part of the world? Yes.

Cruising on the Nile in modern times has absolutely NONE of the romanticized experiences that one would expect. Green and blue Astroturf lines the top deck, a crush of bodies (our boat, one of the largest, is designed to accommodate approximately 250 people) wait expectantly at the dining room doors until the gates are opened, and then, like cattle, rush to get plates and heap tasteless (and questionably prepared?) buffet food on top.

I have taken to quietly moo-ing in line while waiting for the unsatisfying feeding frenzy to commence. Keith and I actually skipped two meals in order to regain an appetite, just to have it satisfied by the weight of the food, and not the taste.

One can look past the Astroturf to see the banks of the Nile streaming slowly past. Fisherman in traditional feluccas cast their nets, laughing children jump into the Nile, white and gray ibises land in marshy areas here and there. There are brave souls in rowboats that try to cross the water-freeway that is the Nile, (like a high stakes, waterlogged Frogger). These risk-takers are discouraged, but not thwarted, by the blaring horns of the cruise ships that chug three abreast down the river. Gone are the quiet days of gliding in small vessels, accompanied by thoughtful and well-read folks who self-selected based on the tremendous expense of visiting a place like Egypt. Now, Egypt is the low-budget travelers dream come true—lots of bland meals, guided excursions, and favorable exchange rates make North Africa the Mexico of Europe.

Perhaps this typical Egyptian-tourist experience would not have been so depressing if we had done the Nile before our Lake Nasser trip. The M.S.Eugenie is a revelation as compared to those “other” cruises, not only in regards to the size of the ship, but specifically because of the isolation experienced cruising the world’s largest artificial lake.





We began in Aswan, (the site of the great dam, constructed to stop the predictable seasonal flooding of the Nile banks) and continued for four days down to our final destination, Abu Simbel, the great temple of Ramses II. Each room had a private deck with chairs, allowing us both privacy and utility, (we spent an entire morning washing clothes out in our tiny sink, and conveniently used the light housing on the deck ceiling to support hangers with drippy shirts and the like).



We passed two boats in four days. It was hot—really hot. Like when you have been cooking a chicken in the oven for an hour, and stick your face in to baste it--hot. But we had an air-conditioned room a foot away, and found it easy to hose off in the shower, run outside to the deck, and let the evaporation cool us. Days of cruising were interspersed with quick (1.5 to 2 hour) excursions to shore, where we clamored into the 30-seater motor boat that dangled from the stern, jumped off onto shore, and saw a large sampling of the various UNESCO salvaged (i.e. saved from the dam-generated flood waters) Nubian temples. We saw scorpions, poisonous snakes, and alligators—none in the wild, but kept in empty water bottles by the local Bedouin in order to extract some baksheesh (cash in the form of a tip) from the tourists, in exchange for a picture with the fear-inducing specimens.

On the third day, we approached Abu Simbel, from the water. As we got closer, everyone scampered around the deck, free cocktails were passed about (non-alcoholic, of course, for this is predominantly a Muslim country), and to really cater to the audience, Carmina Burana (a la “The Omen”) blasted from the loudspeakers as these massive figures came into view...