The donkeys, dwarfed by the Colossi of Memnon, gave an occasional shake of the head and waited patiently. The cart, a simple affair, was ready in no time. A matress, covered with an old blanket, was thrown on the back and a bolster cushion snatched from 'Dreams of Memnon' the small cafe where we'd met Abdul and Ali. Ali twitched the reins and we were off. Traversing narrow dirt roads, bordered by shoulder-high sugar cane and vivid green fields of wheat. A day in the country, a break from the monuments. A day in twenty-first century, not ancient Egypt. We followed small canals, which ran in straight lines through the fields and off into the distance. Mudbrick houses - were they half-built or falling down? - were surrounded by livestock; tethered cows, sheep imprisoned in palm
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