Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
'
Walking
?' Turbo laughed. 'Why walk when I have a car? I'll go on ahead, warn you
about police checkpoints, book you into guesthouses. I'll carry the supplies. I even have a
cool box for soft drinks. Feel, there, under your seat . . .'
I reached down, and produced an ice cold can of soda, sparkling with frost.
'It doesn't feel . . . right,' I admitted. 'It isn't in the spirit of the expedition.'
'These government officials don't care about that! And it won't only be me, Lev.
There'll be police escorts, when the police can be bothered. I'll have to taxi a soldier or
two. Look, don't sweat it, because you don't have a choice. And, besides, how is it any
different from using a troop of poor camels to carry your gear?'
I was stumped for an answer. I supposed it wasn't.
'I'll never be more than a few miles away,' Turbo said. 'That is, unless you want me to
roll alongside you, as you walk?'
'I think I'll manage.'
'Then it's settled!' Turbo beamed, and brought the car to a halt.
We had reached the Sudanese border, directly opposite the shore where Wadi Halfa
sat. As I climbed out, into the implacable sun, I muttered, 'It all seems rather ridiculous,
Turbo.'
Already, he was swinging the car around to go back the way we had come. 'Welcome to
Egypt,' he said drily, and disappeared into the north.
It was to take a week to reach the northernmost point of the lake and return to Aswan. On
the first day, I passed the famed temples of Abu Simbel. Devoid of a single tourist, they
looked all the more glorious, the great stone faces of ancient pharaohs gazing out over
water and sand. Over three thousand years ago, the temples had been hewn from a moun-
tainside by Pharaoh Ramesses II as a lasting monument to his Queen Nefertari - but, like
everything in Egypt, they had been victims of the will of the government and the damming
of the river. When the Aswan High Dam was built, submerging the desert to create the
great lake - and driving tens of thousands of Nubians out of their homeland - the temples
had been painstakingly moved to where they now stood, watching me tramp silently by.
Occasionally, I could see the tracks of cars out in the desert, the only sign that the
shoreline wasn't entirely uninhabited - but, as I navigated the cliffs, beaches and bays
of the lake, I began to see a profusion of other life that was entirely unexpected. Fifty
years ago, when this land was plundered to make the great lake, all kinds of life had been
wiped out - but, across the generations, it had slowly returned. The Nubians might never
come back to this part of their homeland, but trees and bushes had sprung from the desert
beaches, small forests had grown up, and at night I could hear the scuttling of rattlesnakes
and vipers, the rustling of rats and foxes. When I woke the first morning, to the glistening
