Getting to Abu Simbel takes effort.
The small Nubian town is situated in the southern portion of Egypt, where the country really starts to feel like Africa. As one of the driest inhabited places on earth, most Nubians don’t even bother to put a roof over their clay homes.
Unfortunately, it’s difficult for tourists to get there. Due to security concerns, all foreigners are encouraged to travel from Aswan to Abu Simbel by police convoy. There is at least one convoy per day going into and out of the town.
The unfortunate part of taking the convoy is that it leaves too early (3 a.m.), it is expensive, and everybody is shepherded through the same Abu Simbel temples during a two-hour window.
Public transportation is available, but it is not reliable. Also, only four foreigners are allowed to ride each bus, in an effort to make the vehicles less of a target for terrorists.
My husband and I decided to combine the two options. We took the police convoy to Abu Simbel, stayed the night at a Nubian lodge, then returned to Aswan by public transportation the following day.
I think we were right on the money.
Seeing the Great Temple of Ramses II for the first time was exactly as we expected — astounding, breathtaking, but also very loud, busy and crowded.
So we waited. We strolled back to our Nubian lodge, sipped hibiscus tea, took cool showers. After the convoys rolled out of town, we returned to the temples for a second round.
This time, it was quiet. Mysterious. Magical.
Walking into each temple felt like traveling through time.
At the Temple of Hathor and Nefertari, I felt as if I had been summoned to the site by the pharoah himself. I could only hear my own footsteps, my heartbeat and the wind sliding over the stone crevices.
No crowds also meant I could take an illegal photo of the carvings inside the temple. (It was so beautiful in there, I just couldn’t help myself!)
As the sun made way for a swollen moon, a small crowd trickled in to watch the nightly sound and light show.
It was a great show. We’ve heard that the other sites put on cheesy presentations — like in Giza, where the Sphinx narrates a story while disco lights bounce off the pyramids — but this was tasteful and restrained.
Then again, the “sound” part of the “sound and light show” was in Japanese, so it could have been cheesy as hell. (I really wish somebody would have told us that translator headphones were available.)
Still, the sight of Abu Simbel at night — stately, regal, overwhelming — made everything worthwhile.
At closing time, a guard ushered us toward the path.
“Shhh.” he said as he tiptoed away. “Ramses is sleeping.”