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A Journey Through Time: From Hurghada to Luxor
"Any trip is a holiday that will forever remain in your memory" — someone
After 30 Years, I’m Back in Hurghada
Returning to Hurghada after three decades felt like stepping into a parallel universe. The sleepy fishing village I remembered had transformed into a bustling resort city. Towering hotels now lined the coast, their neon signs competing with the turquoise glow of the Red Sea. The dusty roads had been replaced by paved streets buzzing with taxis and tour buses. Yet, amid the modernity, the essence remained—the golden deserts, the vibrant coral reefs, and the warmth of the Egyptian sun.
What Has Changed in 30 Years?
The changes were undeniable. Once-quiet beaches now brimmed with sunbathers and water sports. The local market, once a handful of stalls, had exploded into a labyrinth of shops selling everything from spices to smartphone cases. Tourism had become a well-oiled machine, complete with organized excursions and multilingual guides. But with progress came crowds, and the serene isolation I’d cherished was now a relic of the past.
Hunting for the Lowest Tour Price – Sport or Gambling?
Booking a trip to Luxor became an adventure in itself. Haggling with street vendors felt like a high-stakes game. “Special price, just for you!” they’d chirp, only to slash rates further when I walked away. Was this negotiation a sport, testing my patience and wit, or pure gambling, relying on luck to avoid scams? After days of playful sparring, I secured a deal—$50 for a full-day tour. Victory, or so I hoped.
Early Departure from the Hotel
The minibus arrived at 5 AM, its headlights cutting through the hotel’s pre-dawn stillness. Bleary-eyed tourists piled in, clutching water bottles and hats. As we sped into the desert, the rising sun painted the sands in hues of amber, a fleeting moment of tranquility before the day’s intensity.
Silent Guide Mustafa, Who Barely Speaks My Language
Our guide, Mustafa, greeted us with a nod. A man of few words, his English was fragmented but earnest. “Temple… very old… goddess… cow,” he managed, pointing at a brochure of Hathor. His silence was initially unnerving, but his passion for history emerged through animated gestures and dusty guidebooks pulled from his bag.
6. First Stop – Temple of Hathor
The Dendera Temple Complex, dedicated to the cow-headed goddess Hathor, was a mesmerizing introduction to ancient Egypt. Its colossal columns, carved with intricate hieroglyphics, loomed like stone sentinels. Mustafa pointed at celestial ceilings adorned with zodiacs, whispering, “See? Stars… same as past.”
Vivid Impressions from the Temple of Hathor
What struck me most were the colors—vivid blues and golds preserved under centuries of soot. Scenes of pharaohs offering gifts to gods seemed to pulse with life. In the dim crypts, I traced carvings of Hathor’s benevolent gaze, feeling an inexplicable connection to those who’d worshipped here millennia ago.
Crossing the Nile. Wind Blows Off Favorite Baseball Cap
A ferry carried us across the Nile, its waters shimmering under the midday sun. As I leaned over the railing, a gust of wind snatched my favorite cap, sending it spinning into the river. “A gift to the Nile gods!” joked a fellow traveler, as we watched it vanish into the currents.
Luxor Temple. Unbearable Heat
By noon, Luxor Temple felt like a furnace. The sun scorched the sandstone, and the air wavered with heat. We shuffled through colonnades, marveling at towering statues of Ramses II, but the 45°C (113°F) haze made concentration fleeting. Even the shadows offered little respite.
Japanese Man Fainting from Heatstroke
Near the temple’s exit, a commotion erupted—a Japanese tourist had collapsed, his face ashen. Mustafa sprang into action, fanning him with a map and pouring water over his neck. As the man revived, it was a stark reminder of the desert’s ruthlessness. We shared our water bottles, united by a newfound caution.
Last Stop – Valley of the Kings
The day culminated in the Valley of the Kings, where tombs cut into limestone hills whispered tales of pharaohs. Descending into Tutankhamun’s burial chamber, I gazed at murals detailing his journey to the afterlife. The silence underground was profound, a stark contrast to the blazing world above.
We Learn an Arabic Song: “If It’s Free, Give Me More!”
Exhausted but exhilarated, we piled back into the minibus. Mustafa, perhaps sensing our fatigue, taught us a playful Arabic chant: “Idha kan bil-magaan, aateeni kiteer!” (“If it’s free, give me more!”). Laughter filled the vehicle as we butchered the pronunciation, our voices rising with the setting sun.
Reflections on the Road
As Hurghada’s lights reappeared, I pondered the day’s contrasts—ancient and modern, silence and laughter, endurance and awe. Luxor had been a portal to the past, yet the journey itself, with its mishaps and camaraderie, was a reminder that travel’s magic lies not just in destinations, but in the unpredictable moments in between.
That,s all for today.
Stand by
Sincerely yours
