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Published: November 6th 2007
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Off the boat in Aswan we took a bus ride to the Aswan dam then went to another area where the motor boats are all lined up to take us to the Temple of Philae, dedicated to the goddess Isis. The Temple is on an island, so you have to take a boat there. On the way, a couple young boys on board ply you with goods to buy. The ladies did quite a bit of shopping. The Temple has been relocated from the original island which was flooded by the new Aswan dam. On the way back from visiting the Temple our motor quit working - not a surprise to us from the sounds of it - and the simple solution was to tie our boat to another boat going back to the dock. It was a short ride so not a problem.
In the afternoon we sailed in a felucca - the Nile sail boat - to the botanical garden. Obviously part of the whole tourist industry but the garden was not a showplace. From the garden we hired another motorboat and pushed our way out of the cluster of boats jammed at the dock to sail down
the river to the Nubian village. This was an optional tour George offered to put us on and we all signed up. The Nubians are aboriginal people and their homes were flooded by the new Aswan dam. They were relocated down the river in villages where the government provided land and free electricity. The boats are run by the Nubian boys and we thought this was some special trip. Turned out to be a little like the jungle river cruise at Disney World with this long line of motor boats sailing down the Nile to the Nubian village. Nubian kids in little dugout type boats would paddle furiously to the side of the motorboat and latch on and begin singing “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” to us. One boy would paddle using little hand-held paddles and the other would bail furiously. The sang quite well. Our “captain” looked 12 but was probably about 16 and smoked cigarettes all the way to the village.
Another mad crush of boats at the village and we pushed and floated boats out of the way to get close enough to put out a little gang plank and walk up to the levee. The heavy scent of pot floated down to greet us as we offloaded the boat. Sadly, the Nubian village is just another cog in the Egyptian tourist engine. Much more well-organized and well-built than George would have us believe. Part of our trip included a stop at a local house where we were treated as “guests” (we had paid for the visit of course) and given refreshments, the opportunity to hold the baby crocodile they were raising, and shisha (water pipe) to smoke. Nubians traditionally raised crocodiles which is no longer legal in Egypt. The Nubians have a special exemption to raise one crocodile per household until it is a year old, then supposedly it is released into Lake Nasser. We also heard though they are killed then and used to make other things to sell. Lots of camels in town and people ride camels along the shore. Like much else in Egypt, these animals are not well treated.
At dusk we headed back down the river to Aswan. It was a lovely evening and we all rode on the top of the boat. This was overbalancing the boat quite a bit and it seemed as though it might tip over, but we arrived safely back at the dock, a short walk to our cruise ship. After dinner we walked a few blocks to the local bazaar which was very unlike the one in Cairo. It had wide roads and large shops. It was also very quiet, possibly we were too early. I bought a few spices which Aswan is famous for. One of the party was staying the next night at the Old Cataract Hotel, where Agatha Christie wrote Death on the Nile, and where one of the Indiana Jones movies takes place.
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