The Great Felucca Jam

In Lyn’s diary she comments on how ill she felt that morning. She assumed she had a case of what I had suffered the day before. She probably did, but in retrospect it is obvious that she was also beginning to suffer from the dreadful morning sickness she endured for the rest of the trip.

After a morning of relaxation we took a tour on a felucca to the islands and the Agha Khan’s Mausoleum. Lyn enjoyed it all – even the chaos at the end. She chatted with two middle-aged ladies who were on holiday from working in Saudi Arabia. They regaled us with tales of Saudi restrictions on women.

The next day went from idyll to farce. A wonderful felucca trip on the Nile was thrown into disarray when I left Lyn’s bag, with camera and spectacles, at the Agha Khan Mausoleum. Our poor felucca captain did much extra rowing. I was punished for my sins by being forced by necessity to heavily tip and then embrace the local who recovered the bag.

Mausoleum of the Aga Khan

Then we had to cross the river to our hotel in time to get to the railway station. But we got caught in a “felucca jam”. Two feluccas collided when squeezing between two rocks. Several more drifted into the tangled mess. Darkness was falling. Chaos reigned. After eventually escaping, we were met at the riverbank by very agitated travel agents, we fetched our luggage and then enjoyed being fanged through the streets of Aswan in a taxi. Finally, we were shoved aboard our train with seconds to spare. We took a breath and relaxed – and then the locals next door began to party through the night.

 

Our train ticket - souvenir of a memorable day...