Monday, December 15, 2014

ramming through another post.

Ha, ha, ramming...you'll understand later.

The drive from Aswan to Luxor was three hours long, and at no point was I bored. We followed the Nile valley the entire time, and so the road was lined with alternating fields of sugarcane and cabbage, and with little mud-brick villages clinging to the hillsides the whole way. It was so, so green, but the sand dunes and rock bluffs of the desert were always just visible, a slightly ominous reminder to drink more water and maybe don't wander too far, and--oh yeah--existence is precarious. It was striking and full of contrast and beautiful and sun-baked and a way of life entirely foreign. diametrically opposed to, our cushy, clean, climate-controlled Zürich. Written on every building and every person were stories of heat and dust and minimal modern convenience and hard, hard work. On the entire drive, I think I saw ten men wearing Western pants, and the rest wearing robes and some variety of turban or beanie cap, and fewer than five women wearing anything but full robes and head scarves. Donkey carts and riders were ubiquitous, as were people walking along the roads or through fields with giant trays or containers balanced on their heads. We saw cows in trucks and Peugeots with fins and plenty of men with guns and we even drove past one of Joseph's storehouses.* Low, flooded fields were full of people working and white egrets standing in the puddles. Every village had plenty of shisha cafes along the highway, and in the larger towns, tuk-tuks were everywhere.

This street was entirely packed with them, and no other type of vehicle was in sight!

Mud-brick village with low minaret.

Roadside mosque. There was an incredible variety of these along the way.

Terrible photo, but we passed lots of these mud domes in the uncultivated areas.

Soooo much sugarcane. And cabbage, which I sadly wasn't fast enough to photograph. Biggest cabbages ever.

About two hours in, we stopped for snacks at the sketchiest little roadside market, which happened to be attached both to a tiny mosque and to a checkpoint full of relatively bored-looking army men with large guns...but hey, it was shady, and there were kittehs everywhere. Surreally, I was the only woman in sight; there was a camel grazing in the shade across the street; and we sat and watched news highlights set to incredibly dramatic music on a wee TV high above our table. We downed some seriously fantastic sandwiches of green falafel (in Egypt, it's called ta'miya) and of fig jam on these rolls shaped like long, skinny hot dog buns (which we'd seen sold everywhere along the roadside). I fed some bread to a kitteh that had pharaonic eye makeup.

I'm not kidding. It's on both eyes!

We made our way to Luxor, which, compared to the villages we'd passed, was a modern, wealthy city. We checked into the swankiest place ever--the Winter Palace, built in 1886 by the British and where Henry Carter announced the discovery of King Tut's tomb in 1922. The place is ridiculously full of history, as it was the place to stay for wealthy visitors to Luxor, and frequented by royals and nobles from around the world. I felt underdressed the whole time, but the service was excellent and the breakfast buffet absolutely unparalleled. (Yes, we had ful again, both mornings we were there...but also feta and homemade fruit mini-muffins and bite-sized tarts and omelettes and tremendous Egyptian rolls and fresh juices and wee yogurt parfaits and French press coffee. It was spectacular.)

Mmmm...giant purple chandelier.

The floating staircase, with its lovely Art Nouveau railing.

The Victorian tea room.

Part of the view from our tiny balcony, which looked out over an absolutely massive formal garden.

Here's a weird little panorama that only caught bits of it.

But back to the main events: the temples. Holy smokes. At the hotel, we met up with our new guide, Samar, who was extremely petite and lovely and soft-spoken, but incredibly knowledgeable, just as Katryn and Muhammed had been. (I seriously can't believe how much archaeological and architectural and historical and mythological information these guides are able to store in their brains! They are genuinely talented and intelligent people.) From there, it was first stop: Karnak temple, home to the largest hypostyle hall in the world, and one of my dream destinations for many, many years.

Luxor, Karnak, and the Valleys of the Kings and Queens were included in the ancient city of Thebes, which served as the capital of Egypt at several points in time, but primarily during the Eighteenth Dynasty (1543-1292 BC), which included favorite pharaohs such as Hatshepsut, Akhenaten, and good ol' Tutankhamun. Karnak, by itself, the is one of the largest ancient religious complexes in the world, and is comprised of several sets of temples built over roughly 2000 years (!), with the last major addition occurring sometime between 380 and 365 BC. 

Main entrance and first pylon, with ram-headed gods in front. Karnak and Luxor temples are 3 km away from each other, and in ancient times, the road between them was entirely lined with these statues.**

The ram-headed god is Amun, the sun, and the wee little pharaoh in front of him is Rameses II.

Inside the first pylon, in the temple of Rameses III.

Before the hypostyle hall, behind the first pylon. (Temple of Rameses III is to the right.)

Entering the hypostyle hall! Look at those papyrus columns! (Other than the floor, every surface past this point was absolutely covered in hieroglyphics. Everything.)

So massive. Construction on the hall began under Seti I and was completed by his son Rameses II, between about 1313 and 1225 BC.

Those tiny slats up top served as windows when this hall was covered--all this was originally indoors (really nifty video here).

Crosspiece between columns. I had no idea that so much color remained on the columns and walls here. It was stunning.

Here's some more. Can't help it.

Detail on one of the hypostyle columns.

From what I can gather, this is a post-coronation scene in which the king (the guy kneeling in front of the persea tree, the ancient Egyptians' Tree of Life) is receiving various renewals as a sort of blessing from the god seated on the left. Apparently, in this context, the tree is a symbol of protection, although I knew none of that when I photographed it. Really, I just liked its detail.

Obelisks of Hatshepsut (left) and Thutmose I (sometime around 1500 BC).

Wall o' cartouches.

Detail of Rameses II holding his enemies by the hair in one hand and preparing to smite them with a staff in the other. On the right, a god hands him a sword to finish the job.

Looking back towards hypostyle hall from outside the temple of Amun. (Simple layout of the site here.)

We had a little extra time to explore, so we went where there were no people, and found this: the hall of Thutmose III.

Which has tons and tons of incredible, vibrant color.

And stars on the ceiling.

Really...so much color here. It was just amazing.

Black granite doorway from Hatshepsut's Karnak constructions, here reused by Thutmose III.

Leaving Karnak...one last look back at the hypostyle hall. Hard to believe we were really there.

As it was rather late and the sun was going down, I was a bit skeptical that we were still planning on going to visit Luxor temple. Samar reassured us and said that this was her favorite time of day there, and then we saw why. Oh. My. Goodness.

On the way in, the Luxor end of the ram-headed highway. The piece here and the piece at Karnak are the only fully restored bits, but additional stretches in between are underway.

To the right of the main entrance, a small Roman shrine with a headless statue of Serapis (probably built by Hadrian in the 2nd century AD...probably...).

And then, the main entrance, with the first pylon, obelisk, and several enormous pharaoh statues. Wow.

Monumental statue of Rameses II (that's his wife there next to his leg) in front of the first pylon.

On the side of the statue, a representation of the binding together of Upper and Lower Egypt.

And at the base, a row of several different types of captured enemies. These are Nubians.

Walking through the first pylon is jaw-dropping.

It leads to the huge Rameses II courtyard, lined on three sides with columns and massive pharaoh statues...

...many of which are headless, as conquering armies would come through and decapitate the statues as a symbol of their dominance. They left the heads, though, and set them next to the bodies to display their absolute condescension as conquerors.

On the rear of the first pylon, to the right as you enter, is the barque shrine of Rameses II (the symbolic resting place for the sacred boats of the gods).  

Looking back towards the first pylon, the barque shrine is on the left and the 19th-century mosque of Abu Haggag on the right--built atop the temple ruins to indicate a sort of continuity between the ancient Egyptian religion and modern Islam, and, in turn, built over the remnants of an earlier Coptic church on the site. Amazing stuff--so many layers of history here!

Leaving the Rameses II courtyard, you pass between two colossal statues...

...past a very sweet statue of King Tut and his wife...

...through a papyrus colonnade...

...and into the spectacular courtyard of Amenhotep III, where even as late as 1989, excavators found a cache of 26 extremely well-preserved, Eighteenth-Dynasty statues of various pharaohs and gods.

The small hypostyle hall at the end is full of these papyrus columns with original lotus decoration at the bottom (...so color remaining from around 1390 BC!).

Through the hypostyle hall (and past a small, Roman stone altar wedged between columns) are the remains of a Roman chapel built onto the original temple, with frescoes painted onto the plaster placed over the hieroglyphics, probably from the 4th century AD.

Through that little door in the Roman chapel apse is a series of additional rooms, several of which still have bits of color in the inscriptions.

This is known as the Birth Room because the hieroglyphics on the walls explain the divine conception and birth of Amenhotep III (...thus confirming his divinity as pharaoh).

Adding another layer of complexity to the site is a small shrine rebuilt by Alexander the Great, who accepted the surrender of Egypt in 332 BC. Shortly thereafter he was crowned pharaoh, a move designed to demonstrate to the people the legitimacy of his leadership. Here's a carving of the man himself, as pharaoh, on the side of his shrine at Luxor.

Interesting note: in the above photo of Alexander the Great, notice that the figure is carved into the stone, as opposed to the photo here, where the carving is done in relief (it projects out from the stone). Clearly, earlier artisans were much more skilled in that they were able to employ the latter, far more difficult, technique. (This is a scene from a pharaoh making offerings to the god Amun, and I can only assume that those shapes in the center are ancient cupcakes.)

We heard a lot about the "Feast of the Beautiful Opet" during our tours of Karnak and Luxor. It was one of the largest and most important festivals in ancient Thebes, occurred during flood season, and was intended to bring renewal and fertility. It's far more involved than this, but essentially, it involved both a statue of the god Amun and the pharaoh himself (or, rarely, herself), dressed in their finest finery, being paraded through the streets from Karnak to Luxor and back, in symbolic barques carried by priests and/or rowed down the Nile. 

On the wall in one of the small chambers past the hypostyle court (and in a few other places at Luxor) is this scene depicting the Opet priests carrying a barque. I thought it was pretty neat, considering how many times it had come up during our tours.

Um, I feel as though that may have been an extensive enough treatment of Luxor and Karnak to suit my purposes, but if it wasn't enough for yours, dear reader, please let me know, and I'll be happy to give you a slideshow sometime. I was floored by Karnak and how large and grand it was, but I found that the condition and loveliness of Luxor made it my favorite of the two. (Yes, ok, and probably the after-sundown, spot-lit romance of our visit there didn't hurt.) Both temples far surpassed my expectations, though, even though I've read about them for years, and it was an exceptional day by any standard.

Dinner after Luxor and Karnak was at Sofra, which was a little more tourist-oriented than we expected, but was located in the fascinating, bustling streets around the train station. It had really lovely antique decor, and we got to eat upstairs in a balcony area enclosed by large canvas sheets, which I'm assuming they take down in the summertime to create just a gorgeous, shady space. In the winter, however, they served both to protect us from the mildly chilly breeze, and to still allow a bit of an outdoor-dining experience. It was a friendly, colorful setting, and while their menu was vast and full of classic Egyptian fare and fantastic-sounding, I wasn't terribly hungry (tragedy strikes!). Sigh. So we split some bosara (herbed fava dip), an order of ta'miya, daoud basha (meatballs with rice and pine nuts in a terrific tomato sauce), and some shakshoka (eggs with tomatoes/peppers/onions).*** Naturally, we had fresh juices with our meal--lemon for Mike, and pomegranate for me. I'm a fan, people. A big one.

Saw this beautiful little mosque on the way to dinner. Absolutely enchanting.

Next up: the Valleys of the Kings and Queens; Hatshepsut's temple; and I may even be able to wrap all of this up with our final night in Cairo. We'll see about that, though. Stay with me: we're almost through it.






*Supposedly. I guess you have to take most of these things with a teensy weensy grain of salt, since unless someone was a pharaoh and had the resources to carve his or her name and likeness all over everything, the historical evidence to support similar claims might be a bit iffy. Sigh. The pitfalls of having been a history major: generally, in order to believe the data I'm fed, I need research and sources and back-up sources--primary, preferably--and multiple paths leading to reasonably the same conclusion, and it's exhausting. Sometimes I'd just really like to believe that things are what they're said to be.

**Get it now? Ramming? Yeah...it's terrible, but that's the kind of humor I appreciate every time. (And also, I'm really, really tired of writing, and so everything stupid is funny, at this point!)

***I've made shakshoka at home before, but all the variations I've seen and cooked have had a sauce. This one was more like a frittata, but that was ok, as we put the fantastic sauce from the meatballs to good use here. Yummmmm.



















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