ASWAN,EGYPT
We took an overnight train from Cario to Aswan. Taking an overnight train from Cairo to Aswan in a berth cabin is an enchanting way to journey deep into the heart of Egypt. As the hustle and bustle of Cairo fades into the distance, the rhythmic clatter of the train became our lullaby for the night.
Upon boarding, we were welcomed into our snug berth cabin—a compact but cozy retreat for the journey. Our cabin accommodated two passengers with fold-down beds. A small table, reading light, and power outlet. There’s a hint of old-world charm in the design, reminiscent of an era when train travel was the height of sophistication. The cabin felt a bit snug, with our luggage claiming most of the floor space, but it added to the adventure. At first, the bottom berth doubled as a cozy couch for two. Not long after we settled in, we were served a meal—simple and reminiscent of airplane fare, yet satisfying enough for the journey. Once the trays were cleared, the purser worked his magic, transforming the couch into a bed. With everything set, we tucked ourselves in and drifted off, lulled by the train's steady rhythm as it carried us across Egypt, bound for the wonders of Aswan.
Arriving in Aswan felt like stepping into a slower, sun-drenched rhythm of life. We made our way to the Obelisk Hotel, undoubtedly the most delightful place we stayed during our time in Egypt. Perched elegantly on the edge of the Nile, the hotel offered sweeping views of the river’s timeless beauty. From our vantage point, we could watch an endless parade of boats—graceful feluccas with their billowing sails, bustling motorboats, and majestic cruise ships gliding by, all painting a mesmerizing scene against the golden backdrop of Aswan’s hills.
After a much-needed refreshment and a moment to soak in the view, we dropped our luggage in our room—a serene retreat that felt like an oasis after our overnight train journey. Without missing a beat, we set off again, boarding a small boat that skimmed across the Nile’s shimmering waters. The gentle breeze carried with it the faint scent of river reeds as we made our way to Philae Temple, a masterpiece of ancient architecture dedicated to the goddess Isis.
The island grew larger with every passing moment, and the details of the temple came into sharper focus—the massive stone pillars crowned with lotus capitals, the weathered hieroglyphs etched into sandstone, and the regal gateways standing sentinel at the water's edge. It was easy to imagine the ancient pilgrims who once made this same journey by boat, their hearts filled with reverence and awe as they approached the sacred sanctuary of Isis.
As we approached the entrance of Philae Temple, the grandeur of the ancient walls immediately commanded our attention. Towering stone gateways, weathered yet resilient, stood as silent guardians to this sacred space. The walls were a tapestry of intricate carvings and hieroglyphs, each telling fragments of stories—tales of gods and pharaohs, rituals, and offerings etched deeply into the sandstone. Massive figures of Isis, Osiris, and Horus loomed above us, their forms both regal and timeless. Every surface seemed alive with detail: delicate feathers of a god’s headdress, the curve of a lotus flower, and hieroglyphic inscriptions that felt almost like whispers from the past.
Philea Temple
In several places on the temple walls, the figures of ancient Egyptian gods and pharaohs have been deliberately scratched out by early Christians who repurposed Philae as a place of worship. Believing these carvings to represent pagan idols, they sought to erase their imagery while still preserving the temple’s structure for their own sacred gatherings.
The sheer scale of the carvings, their precision, and the clarity of their artistry despite centuries of exposure to the elements left us in awe. It was impossible not to run our fingers lightly over the cool, ancient stone, tracing the outlines of symbols that had been chiseled with such purpose. The temple’s entrance felt less like a doorway and more like a portal—an invitation to step into a world where myth and history blurred into one.
The walls of Philae Temple are not just stone—they are storytellers, etched with tales of gods, kings, and devotion that have endured for millennia. The carvings depict scenes of Isis, the temple's central goddess, cradling her son Horus, embodying maternal love and divine protection. Elsewhere, Osiris, her husband, is portrayed in regal stillness, symbolizing resurrection and eternal life. Grand images of Pharaoh Ptolemy XII stand alongside these deities, shown making offerings and performing sacred rituals, emphasizing the divine right of kingship and their role as intermediaries between gods and humanity.
In other panels, Horus, the falcon-headed god of kingship and the sky, is seen vanquishing the chaotic god Seth, a timeless representation of good triumphing over evil. Each carving, every hieroglyph, feels deliberate—every detail a fragment of a larger narrative tapestry that celebrates power, piety, and the divine connection between the mortal and the eternal. Standing amidst these stories, one feels less like an observer and more like a guest invited to witness a world where gods walked among men
Athena Temple
As we approached Trajan’s Kiosk, its graceful silhouette stood proudly against the azure sky, framed by the shimmering waters of the Nile. With its tall, open columns topped with delicately carved capitals, the structure felt both regal and inviting, like an ancient pavilion frozen in time. Though unfinished, its beauty lies in its simplicity—an open-air space once believed to have been used for ceremonial purposes, possibly welcoming Pharaohs or even Roman emperors arriving by boat. Standing beneath its towering pillars, we couldn’t help but be reminded of the Temple of Athena in Greece. The resemblance was striking—the same sense of balance and harmony, the same interplay between stone and sky.
DINNER IN A NUBIAN VILLAGE
The Nubians hold a unique and deeply significant place in Egypt’s cultural mosaic. Descendants of one of Africa's oldest civilizations, they have called the banks of the Nile home for thousands of years, their history intertwined with that of the pharaohs and the kingdoms of Kush. Known for their resilience, artistry, and strong sense of community, the Nubians have preserved their distinct language, colorful architecture, and vibrant traditions despite the challenges posed by displacement during the construction of the Aswan High Dam.
That evening, we boarded a boat and set out across the tranquil waters of the Nile River, our destination—a Nubian village nestled along the riverbank. The golden light of sunset bathed the landscape in warm hues as we approached, and the rhythmic sound of drums and laughter floated across the water, hinting at the vibrant culture awaiting us.
The Nubian village, as it turned out, was perched on an island in the heart of the Nile, a hidden gem cradled by the river’s gentle currents. By the time we stepped off the boat, night begun to fall aided by the warm glow of lanterns and scattered string lights guiding our way. We wandered up through narrow, unmarked alleys and unpolished earthen streets, the air rich with the faint aroma of spices lingering in the breeze. Eventually, we arrived at Aziza House Restaurant, a rustic home tucked discreetly into a quiet alleyway. It wasn’t on any bustling main street—because it wasn’t just a restaurant; it was also the owner’s family home, radiating warmth and authenticity. The coincidence wasn’t lost on us either—our restaurant shared its name with our beloved tour guide, Aziza, as if fate itself had guided us here. It felt less like dining out and more like being welcomed into someone’s personal sanctuary, a place where the walls whispered stories and every dish was served with a side of genuine hospitality.
We were warmly welcomed by an elderly Nubian woman, the heart and soul of the restaurant, who greeted us with a radiant smile and an air of quiet grace. She guided us up a set of worn concrete stairs to a covered patio adorned with archway openings that framed the night sky. The space felt both intimate and timeless, infused with the comforting aroma of spices and simmering stews. With every gesture, her hospitality spoke louder than words as she ushered us to a table set with care.
Soon, we were presented with an authentic Nubian feast—bowls of richly spiced stews, fragrant rice piled high, and warm, freshly baked bread, all lovingly prepared by her skilled hands. It wasn’t just a meal; it was a labor of love, a taste of heritage, and an invitation to savor not only the food but the stories it carried
During dinner, we discovered that our gracious host was not only a talented cook but also a skilled henna artist. With a proud smile, she brought out her well-worn design books, filled with intricate patterns and delicate floral motifs, each page a testament to her artistry. The women in our group were immediately enchanted, eagerly volunteering to have their arms adorned with her beautiful designs.
