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Travelling the way of the Ancients

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The two Nubian sailors sat at the bow of the small felucca, the sun baking their darkened skin. Jabbering on in Arabic they glanced out over the tattered dock, a small group of tourists approaching, three days on the Nile, typical journey for the seasoned deck hands. The investment long ago in this small felucca had paid for itself in nearly six months. I followed the mass down the make do platform to where the small boat was moored. Small pack shouldered, two small clips dangling in the soft breeze, the sun high overhead warmed the early morning air. Aswan had woken hours earlier, the calls of Ramadan bellowing over the small city at the crack of dawn, it was now 9:00am.

The felucca had a small cabin at the bow of the boat, stretching no further then eight feet by ten feet, the Nubians shared this living space for most of the tourist season I was sure. The remainder of the craft was padded with large cushions wrapped in blankets or sheets. Each of us would eventually pick a soft spot to set our packs and sleeping bags, settling in to enjoy the sun and slow relaxing voyage up the course of the Nile. The few days I had spent in Aswan passed quickly, though it was not an area I\'d have to return to. Once was plenty, the dam held a little of my interests, though no Nile Crocs were seen. I was looking forward to pushing of, this group of fellow travelers seemed interesting enough to occupy a few days, I was set.

The fenced main street of Aswan pushed away as we slowly crept from the pier, strong winds up the Nile weren\'t that apparent this time of year, thus the three day sail. The water, sparkled, cleaner then I had originally supposed it would appear, stories of the Nile\'s filth spread throughout the western world as an Australian bloke and I conferred our findings. A gentle breeze propelled us out into the center of the great river, the far shores concealing Egyptian artifacts from ages past, ruins could be seen slightly off in the distance. I leaned back against my make do pillow and warmed my face in the sun. A mid morning nap needed after a night-spent caravanning around the back alleys of Aswan. My eyes closed and the gentle roll of the small ship rocked me into subconscious. I could spend time with the others at lunchtime.

"You interested in some lunch mate?"

I stirred slightly, straining to look upwards into the bright sun. A large man stood over me; Australian by the accent, he smiled downwards. His silhouette the main striking feature, background light shone almost directly from over head, tropic of Cancer wasn\'t far from here. "Yeah sure, is it ready?" I stretched upwards, reaching as high over my sleep filled head as I could. The night\'s adventures having caught up, rest spurred them from thought.

"Another ten minutes or so. James." He stretched out his large hand, introducing himself. I sat up beside him.

"Todd. Where are you coming from?" I asked, typical traveler question, places been, places going, select similar paths.

"Coming up from Ethiopia, Egypt is my last stop, then heading home to Sydney. How about you?"

"Actually just spending time in Egypt, well and a layover of a couple days in Germany. Came down from Sinai, spent a little while in Dahab hanging out with some travelers and the Bedouins." I responded, eager to share travel stories. Isn\'t that why I was wandering anyway?

"I am eventually going to make my way over there, Red Sea has some incredible diving from what I gathered. Hoping to do Mt Sinai and see the Suez Canal after Luxor of course." He smiled, friendly, traveling alone no doubt, wandering Australians.

"Yeah, I dove out of Dahab for a couple days, just simple stuff though. A lot of life, you\'ll be impressed, although can\'t imagine it compares with the Great Barrier."

"Not much does."

Lunch, more starch then I had ever seen. Potatoes, Rice and Bread made up most of the adequate lunch, traditional Nubian soup added a great deal of flavor as I mixed everything, save the bread, in the shallow bowl. Research had prepared me; the food would taste good, yet be poor in variety. I guess you can\'t store much in a felucca. Small bits of vegetables accentuated the broth I poured over the boiled rice. Having subsided on minute rice for the duration of university, well that and Kraft dinner, I was completely satisfied. Middle East food was nothing to rave about from what I had encountered. Less meat and more potatoes and breads then I was used to; I\'d get by, open to new experiences, at least the beer was accommodating. James and I sat dangling our feet over the bow of the boat, the water passing slowly beneath us. There was plenty of rice, the soup, however, ran thin on our second helping, foreign soups are always good, or so I thought. Spices from the countless markets in Aswan helped remove any bland flavor the potatoes and rice may have lingered.

A couple other small feluccas and the odd barge or riverboat, luxury tours sprawled up and down the Nile between Luxor and Aswan for the majority of the year. Cruise ships from the Mediterranean filtered in from time to time, but none were in sight this day. Memories of the Mississippi flooded by as I starred over at a large riverboat, the "Cleopatra" oddly enough. Similar style to boats of the US, large back wheel, 19th century awnings; I looked on amazed at US influence in the world, Coke in hand. Tourists sat sprawled across three levels of decks, seated in sun chair, scotch or imported coffee in hand awaiting their padded bus tour into Abu Simbel no doubt. I couldn\'t judge, could I? The sheer comfort of the felucca ride, peaceful, quiet, serene, I\'d rather be here, although the sheer lushness of wealth sometimes spoiled my views. It cruised onwards, down towards Aswan. We continued onwards, rocky hills floating by on either riverbank.

James and I sat at the bow of the boat, stretched out, tanning in the sun for the duration of the afternoon. We traded travel stories, downed Stella after Stella, and just relaxed and enjoyed the peace. The Egyptian beer flowed freely as James recounted adventures in East Africa and treks through Ethiopia. Having never been I simply sat and listened. Two American girls joined us after an hour or so, Californians, Kate and Julie. Each of us took their turn, adventures, similarities, comparison, and next destinations, all of us quite drunk as the sun started to fall. The others, about ten, though I can\'t at this point remember, sat on the base of the felucca, some read, others played cards, some slept, there wasn\'t much of a variety, no room to wander on the small vessel. The Nubian captain had said they could bring 24 and sleep comfortably, I was doubtful. We were fairly cramped in living space as it was.

The boat continued to drift deep into the evening, Stella beer drowning any amount of monotonous boredom you\'d find on a small sailing vessel. The gentle breeze did little to increase our velocity, yet it was pleasurable nonetheless. Each of us dangling feet from the

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