Sunset on the Nile The Middle East is the birthplace of the major Abrahamic religions, and it is no surprise that symbols important in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam abound. Our Nile riverboat featured a hamsa or khamsah: a hand with the fingers spread apart to ward off evil; with a star and crescent, representing Islam, off the thumb; and crowned by the word “Allah” in Arabic.
You could be nowhere else…
The songs of Imams on the hot, heavily scented air, are calling you to prayer. The hawkers and beggars lining the streets are noisily entreating you into the bustling markets. The tourist boats rafted on the river are enjoining you to travel back to colonial times …
A Nile riverboat, chugging upstream from Luxor to Aswan in Egypt, was my home for four nights. As I sat on the upper deck with a late afternoon G&T, watching the sun go down over the palm trees and settlements along the banks, I felt transported into another era. I only needed a pith helmet or a long cigarette holder to take my place as an extra in an Agatha Christie story. There is something vaguely disorienting about being in a place that is at once so foreign, and – thanks to movies and books – so familiar.
After a morning spent exploring Karnak Temple (see: In Worship of Ancient Gods), I had just enough time to wander some of the market streets in Luxor before our boat set sail. I’ve said it before: I love markets. They give the visitor a glimpse into the real, everyday-world of a place.
Photographically, markets are always difficult in terms of their lack of light and space, but that is part of the challenge and the fun! What always surprises me is people’s willingness to have a cheerful exchange with someone who doesn’t speak their language, and to have their pictures made for no reward other than a smile and a shukraan lak.
The Nile River has a mythology all its own. Nicknamed “the father of African rivers,” it is held to be responsible for the development of Egyptian civilisation. Herodotus (c. 484 – 425/413 BCE), who is called the father of history, wrote that “Egypt was the gift of the Nile”. Every year the river would flood, overflowing its banks and depositing new layers of nutrient-rich silt. This made the lands either side of the river very fertile, allowing the Ancient Egyptians to become rich from their agriculture. They paid tribute to Hapi, the God of the annual floods, and their calendar followed the river’s three seasons: Akhet (June-September), the flood season, Peret (October-February), the growing season, and Shemu (March-May), the harvest season.
Join me on a 30 million-year-old waterway, where time loses meaning.
Fruit Seller In spite of the heat, the crowded spaces, and the noise, most of what I see in Luxor is fresh and clean.
“The Best Bread” There is nothing like freshly baked loaves, hot out of an oven! It smelled as good as it tasted.
Live Birds Stuffed pigeon is a delicacy in Egypt; the birds are specially bred for market.
Woman in Black The vendors are smiling and welcoming – even though they know I’m not likely to buy anything.
Market Corner From fruit to fresh fish: all manner of foods are on display on the streets.
Fish Sales Of course, chatting and bargaining is a big part of the social heart of any market.
Persimmons
Man in the Laneway
Fabric Store Shopkeepers It is dark in the narrow streets and crowded shops – but nothing could dim the light of these two delightful young men. (iPhone6)
Portrait of an Egyptian Shopkeeper
Women’s Clothing All the sales-people seem to be men – even the attendant at this tightly packed women’s clothing store! Note the colourful bras hanging on display.
Women in Black Abayas There are plenty of women shopping, however, and they leave the market with loads piled on their heads.
Bridge over the Nile As our riverboat pulls out, we get a nice view of Luxor Bridge and its decorated pylons. (iPhone6)
On the Nile Simple brick housing complexes and palm trees slide past as we make our way south, up-river.
Riverboats on the Nile The river is full of ships – some adding greatly to the haze and pollution in the air. We are all heading the 53 kilometres (about 33 miles) up-river to Esna. There we will all have to wait – possibly for hours – for our turn through the locks. It is still shoulder season, and tour operators say they haven’t fully recovered from the aftermath of the Arab Spring. This leads me to wonder how busy and polluted this area must be in a good high season!
Twilight on the Nile The afternoon draws to a close and the riverboats continue.
Upper Deck of a Riverboat Our boat is time-worn and comfortably shabby around the edges, but sunset bathes the upper deck, disguising the badly-laid artificial grass that passes for carpet.
Sunset on the Palms As our boat slips into night, we are called down to dinner, where we are served by liveried staff. Once again, I feel as if I’m living in a dream or an old movie.
Being on the water has that soporific effect – especially on a timeless river like the Nile.
Lucky, really, as it was well after dark when we reached the Esna Locks and we did wait several hours before making our way through.
[…] started my day at Edfu, after sailing up from Luxor the day before (see: Luxor Bazaar and the Mighty Nile). We’d spent the day chugging up-river, watching the banks with their rich farming lands and […]ReplyCancel
Transplanted Beauties A paper kite butterfly (Idea leuconoe), native of Southeast Asia, sits on a lantana (Verbenaceae), native to tropical regions of the Americas and Africa. Neither are indigenous to Herefordshire – but they are quite at home in the Wye Valley Butterfly Zoo.
One of the many things that this year has highlighted is how mobile we have become. I have immediate family on three continents, and I’m used to seeing them regularly. Covid-19 border-closures and travel-bans put an end to my plans this year!
For the most part, I’ve coped, and I have it a lot easier than many people. But with all the recent talk out of the US about Thanksgiving and family feasts, and with Christmas around the corner, I’ve been feeling more lonely and isolated.
So, it was with real joy that I found an old, forgotten file of photos from a day out in Herefordshire, England, with family I haven’t been able to see in person for far too long.
I made a number of journeys to Hereford, in the West Midlands of England, during the years that my daughter lived there (see: Hereford). This particular trip was with my husband, since departed, to spend time with my daughter, her husband and my granddaughter, who was at that time just over a year old. In the intervening years, my granddaughter has gained a brother, and has grown up beyond recognition: small people change so quickly!
Naturally, day trips with a toddler need to be close by and child-friendly. An afternoon surrounded by colourful butterflies from around the world at the Wye Valley Butterfly Zoo, some problem-solving at the the adjoining “aMazing Hedge Puzzle”, and ice creams along the River Wye, fit the bill beautifully. These attractions were conceived of and built by brothers Lindsay and Edward Heyes who still manage the complex. In the UK, a “zoo” is defined as any establishment where animals of any wild species – including insects – are exhibited to the public. The Zoo Licensing Act 1981 requires that if animals are to be kept in enclosures, their environment must allow them to behave in as normal a manner as possible.
Consequently, most of the butterflies at the zoo are free-flying in a warm and humid space, lush with greenery.
Pastorale – Symonds Yat West This is how I picture England: old brick and stone manor houses, and bucolic sheep in the fields. (iPhone5)
Reading the Labels There is easy-to access information all around the different enclosure areas.
Caterpillars Every stage of the life-cycle is illustrated.
Butterfly at Rest Unfortunately, if I made notes at the time, I have long since lost them!
Blue Morpho Peleides I spent a lot of time hunting the internet before realising that these are the same species: the ventral wing surface – the underside – of the adult butterfly has beautiful eyespots, but none of that gorgeous blue seen on the upper.
“Catch me if you Can!”
In the Lantana
Blue and Black
Wonder and a Handful of Rocks The butterflies are quick enough to be at no risk from a curious toddler.
Emerald Swallowtail – Papilio Palinurus These are native to Southeast Asia, but popular in butterfly houses around the world.
Dad and Daughter Trays of food attract butterflies to accessible observation spots.
Rice-Paper Butterfly The paper kite butterflies (Idea leuconoe) are never still.
Stones Our toddler was as fascinated by the rocks on the pathways as she was by the butterflies.
Wonder Watching young children examine the world is always a wonderful experience.
Small Red, Black and White Butterfly I never did succeed in identifying this pretty little thing.
Malachite Butterfly – Siproeta Stelenes The pretty malachite, named for the bright green mineral malachite, is one of the most common butterfly species in Central and northern South America.
Eye-to-Eye
One of the Heyes Brothers Also operated by brothers Lindsay and Edward Heyes, the aMazing Hedge Puzzle is a short walk away. I don’t know which of the brothers this is, but he proudly shows us his maze lapel pin as he welcomes us.
The Jubilee Maze The brothers planted over a kilometre of hedges in 1977 to form this traditional hedge maze with a charming temple at the centre.
Walking along the Wye For a toddler, a walk along the the straighter paths beside the river separating England from Wales is just as engrossing as a maze.
In February 2020, Storm Dennis wreaked chaos across the Wye Valley. The river burst its banks at Symonds Yat and the Wye Valley Butterfly Zoo (amongst other places) was inundated with as much as two metres of water. Coronavirus-lockdown and restrictions hampered the necessary repairs to the zoo; the centre is unlikely to reopen before next year (BBC News).
Nothing stays the same …
But, even if we have to stay home, we can keep smiling.
Smoking Ganja on the Ganges Marijuana has been a part of the culture in India for thousands of years. It is not uncommon to see sadhus fixing a chillum (a conical clay pipe) full of cannabis or hash and tobacco.
“Respect all religions. Practice your own.”
So said a Swami visiting Australia many years ago in interview when asked if he wished to attract people to his Hindu faith. Proselytisation is an alien concept in Indian religions such as Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism and Sikhism.
Sectarianism violence has played – and still plays – a central role in the politics of the Indian subcontinent, as it does in the rest of the world. But, my experience on the ground has always been of people for whom religious expression is an integral part of their daily lives, and who are happy to share their rituals with me – and even give me blessings – without any expectation that I believe as they do.
This was certainly the case ten years ago when I was in the most holy Hindu city of Haridwar in Uttarakhand, North India, with photographers Gavin Gough and Matt Brandon to experience the Kumbh Mela.
A large proportion of the more than 10 million people who arrived in the ancient city of Haridwar to take part in the gathering were sadhus – those wandering ascetics seen all across India and the neighbouring countries. These men fascinate me: although the colour of their robes and the design of their tilaka (forehead markings) are meant to show which sect they belong to, I never saw two who looked the same! Indeed, researching the literature only reinforced my confusion about their many different traditions, customs, practices, and beliefs. According to one site (Facts and Details), there are around five million sadhus in the country, belonging to several thousand schools or sects.
On more than one occasion on that long-ago trip, I was offered a share of pipe by one of the sadhus. In most Indian states, possession of marijuana or hashish is a criminal act, and secular people caught indulging can be subject to harsh penalties. But sadhus – many of whom sit in a smoke haze all day – seem to be exempt.
Even more commonly (and possibly just as high-risk for a foreigner!), I was invited to share food that women were making at their camp sites. I’m always moved by how generous people can be with strangers – even when they seem to have so little themselves. I acceded to some of these offers and the food was always wonderful. Fortunately, I suffered no ill effects.
Come with me to the portable campsite in Haridwar and meet a few of the colourful Kumbh Mela pilgrims.
Corral The Bairaagi Campsite outside central Haridwar has an interesting crowd management system.
Sadhu with Japamala Garlands of prayer beads – usually 108 – are commonly used to keep count while reciting prayers or mantras.
“Namaste!” So many of the visiting holy men are quick to greet me.
Smiling Sadhus This was the eve of the holiest day of the kumbh mela: everyone was in a good mood.
Tin Cup The famous Naga sadhus, who are totally naked except for the ash they smear their bodies, were in a remote area of the camp, and I didn’t go looking for them. But, even in the central areas, there were some unique forms of dress.
Rapture This joyful sadhu with his beads, bells, and bone stick, was my favourite; …
Dancing Sadhu … he certainly lived up to the exhortation to dance like nobody is watching.
Reading Prayers Religious study, and philosophical discussion and debate, are a large part of the purpose behind the gathering.
Young Man at the Mela
Guru on a Stage Every colourful tent houses its own sect, and every sect has its own gurus, acolytes, and devotees.
Mixing Tilaka Outside the tents, groups of men are clustered, …
Applying Tilaka … helping each other get ready for the day.
Mixing Colours Tilaka is generally made by mixing freshly ground sandalwood, vermilion, turmeric, or ash with lime or water. The actual composition is prescribed by one’s purpose and religious sect.
Applying Tilaka Tilaka is generally applied with the ring finger to the forehead …
Sadhu Getting Painted … and on the arms, chest, neck, and back: all while reciting prayers or mantras.
Under a Sacred Fig Bodhi trees (ficus religiosa) are found all over Southeast Asia. Sacred in Hinduism and Buddhism, they provide local medicines – and shelter from the heat.
Lighting a Chillum
Concentration
Hindu Man
Many Hands Like an army, a religious festival marches on its stomach. But, making food for the masses is no chore when friends work together.
Cooking Panipuri In one popular street food, semolina pockets are stuffed with cooked potato, onion, and chutney. This version was cooked over a fire fuelled by dried dung.
Watching the Fire The women keep careful watch over the cooking food.
Hands making Food The balls come out of the fire too hot to handle!
Panipuri and Chilli
Bags of Herbs The women have brought their ingredients with them.
Cooked Tomatoes Freshly cooked tomatoes are peeled, before the herbs and spices are added to make a tangy sauce. The end result was wonderfully tasty!
Sadhu in a Niche There is a charismatic holy man in every nook and cranny –
Woman in Purple – and smiles are all around.
The mood over the whole festival grounds was euphoric.
Of course, part of that could have been the cannabis smoke wafting through the air.
[…] (Allahabad), Trimbak (Nashik), and Ujjain. It is a major pilgrimage festival in Hinduism (e.g.: Sadhus, Smoke and Street Food) that includes rituals, religious discussions, devotional singing, and traditional ceremonies. One […]ReplyCancel
Vieux Bassin The multicoloured slate-clad buildings overlooking Honfleur’s old harbour date back to the 15th- and 16th-centuries.
I love the old cobbled cities of Europe, and the historical stories they tell.
I spent some of my school years living in the French-speaking parts of Eastern Canada where the historical root and ties were to France. When I was studying the history of the early European explorers and settlers in Canada, their names were engraved in the streets and monuments all around me. Perhaps this is why, when we were reading about the Seven Years’ War between the British and the French for dominance over their North American territories, I was always on the the side of the French – even though the historical consequences of the pivotal Battle of Quebec in 1759 are known to every Canadian school child.
Half a lifetime later and half a world away, in the parklands along the Seine in Paris (see: Monday Morning in Paris), I was ridiculously excited to come across busts of the best known of those early French colonialists: Jacques Cartier, who gave “Canada” its name, and Samuel de Champlain, the “Father of New France”, who founded some of the earliest European colonies on the North American continent.
Our history books made note of how many trips these men made from their native France, but they didn’t really give one an idea of how long the voyages took, or how dangerous they were in the vessels of the day. Fast-forward a few years, and I was standing in St Malo, Brittany, from whence mariner Jacques Cartier set off on his three exploratory expeditions to North America (see: Saint Malo Brittany). I had taken an hour and a half to motor in on the fast ferry from Jersey in the Channel Islands; Cartier’s first voyage, in 1534, took twenty days of laborious sailing due West across the Atlantic Ocean to what is now Quebec.
Then, a few years ago, I was on a small ocean vessel that was docking in Le Havre for a day: looking at the excursions available to me, I decided on a half-day trip to the medieval town of Honfleur. Located near the mouth of the Seine River, this charming seaside city was once a pivotal maritime port. At least some of Samuel de Champlain’s trips across the Atlantic Ocean to Canada (He made between 21 and 29 in total!) departed from here: his 1608 trip to found a settlement at Quebec City, and some of his other voyages, are commemorated in a plaque inscribed in 1899 and posted at the memorial arch in his honour in the Honfleur’s Old Town.
Although Honfleur is both a river-port and a sea-port, in the 19th century, Le Havre overtook it as a commercial enterprise. Honfleur, however, wins the tourism stakes: Le Havre was devastated by World War II bombing, and has been called one of the France’s ugliest cities. By contrast, Honfleur with its picturesque 17th-century harbour ringed by 15th- and 16th-century buildings has long attracted artists – including impressionists like Claude Monet – yachting travellers, and tourists alike.
Join me for a walk around La Vielle Ville (The Old City).
Honfleur Crossroads The skies are chancy when our bus drops us off, but the spring flowers more than make up for overcast weather.
Poppy in a Garden Bed I love a French spring! The flowers and new growth are magic (see: Les Couleurs de Printemps).
La Vieille Ville Our first glimpse of the Old Town across the Old Harbour is a tantalising jumble of historical periods.
Quai Lepaulmier Wash House Public wash houses were common in Europe before the invention of washing machines. The Honfleur Tourism website lists three: this one was inaugurated in 1867.
Le Lavoir Saint-Léonard The Saint-Léonard wash house is close by; fed by a nearby spring, it was restored in 1807. The gothic-style Église Saint-Léonard sits behind.
Foliage in the Flower Town Honfleur calls itself a “Ville Fleurie” or Flower Town, and the gardens are lovely. I think this is a local dogwood tree.
Église Saint-Léonard A front view of St. Leonard’s Church shows off its flamboyant late-fifteenth century façade and its large octagonal dome-topped tower, dating to 1760. The first church on this site was consecrated in 1186, but destroyed during the Hundred Years War (1337 – 1453).
Jeanne d’Arc –Église Saint-Léonard In France, you are never far from representations of Joan of Arc – one of the country’s nine secondary patron saints, and still a semi-legendary figure almost five centuries after her death.
Jardin du Tripot This modern urban park was designed and developed reusing old materials reclaimed from the old tanneries that once occupied the site. This allows it to seamlessly merge into the historic heart of the Old Town.
Enfant sous un Parapluie French artist Annick Leroy was commissioned to produce works for the space. This fountain depicts a naked girl under an umbrella.
Geese Unfortunately, the water wasn’t running when I was in the garden, so the geese weren’t spitting their waters back into the Claire River below.
Reflections of Old and New
Calvados Country This is apple country: calvados (apple brandy aged in oak barrels) and classic cider are everywhere.
Cour de Roncheville Stone walls, cobbled streets, and courtyards: the whole town is a living museum.
Timber-Framed Buildings Some of the building have been reclaimed and converted into actual museums, like this 16th century prison, which now houses Le Musée d’Ethnographie et d’Art Populaire Normand. The museum recreates domestic and economic life in old Normandy.
Vieux Bassin Back in the open, we again have views of the houses standing higgledy-piggledy along the Old Harbour.
Carrousel à Honfleur Every seaside town has a merry go round. This two-tiered carrousel sits on the Old Harbour …
Merry go Round … and is enjoyed by young and old.
La Lieutenance The 18th century lieutenancy building at the entrance to the old harbour was the home of the Governor, and later the commerce tribunal. It now a houses restaurant.
Memorial to Samuel de Champlain Behind the lieutenancy, a bust of Samuel de Champlain and a plaque in his honour are posted next to the eponymous memorial arch.
Saint Catherine’s Catholic Church The beautiful Saint Catherine’s is France’s largest wooden church. It was built in the 15th century by ships’ carpenters, and is almost entirely covered in wooden shingles.
Local Guide Our walking guide points out some of the building’s finer details.
Saint Catherine’s Bell Tower The church bell is in a separate building across the plaza; it too is covered in chestnut shingles.
Candles Catholicism is the official religion in France, and 80% of the population are nominally Roman Catholic. Saint Catherine’s is still a consecrated building and home to an active parish.
Shuttered Window Back on the narrow streets, everyday life is nestled into the old buildings.
“Honfleur, la Cité des Peintres” One of the earliest the French impressionists, Eugène Boudin was born in Honfleur. The city has long attracted artists.
The Lieutenancy It is all quiet around the Vieux Bassin as we head back towards the outer docks.
Hung out to Dry This is still a working dock; …
Nets and Ropes … and the fishermen keep a close eye on their nets.
Fishing Boats Colourful boats sit in the East Harbour as we return to our own vessel.
I have a confession to make: before we returned to our ship, we indulged in some crêpes à la Normande with apples and Calvados…
But, even without the crêpes and the Canadian connection, Honfleur was a delightful place to explore.
Black Mama Wur Wur Youngster Papua New Guinea is home to an incredible diversity of tribal groups – each with their own customs, stories, dances, and costumes. Many of these are on display at the annual Mount Hagen Cultural Show.
The annual Mount Hagen Sing Sing brings out a mind-boggling array of unique tribal dance troupes.
Papua New Guinea has to be one of the most culturally diverse countries in the world! Although there are just over 7 million people (July 2020 est.) living on the eastern half of the island of New Guinea and the scattering of territorial islands across the Coral Sea and the South Pacific Ocean, these people represent over 7000 different cultural groups and speak 839 discrete indigenous languages. That’s about 12% of the world’s total!
It’s as if every small locality is its own cultural pocket with its own distinct form of dance, music, body paint, costume, weaponry, and storytelling. Around 100 of these distinctive tribal groups travel into Mount Hagen, high in the Wahgi Valley in central mainland Papua New Guinea, for the annual Sing Sing – a festival to share culture, dance and music.
When the Mount Hagen Cultural Show was first started in the early 1960s, it was very much a local affair, intended to preserve and share traditions and calm inter-tribal animosity. Today, the festival is pitched more at domestic and international tourist audiences, and there are prizes for the best performers. Entry ticket prices are high enough to shut out most locals, so they watch the performers as they dance through the streets to enter the grounds, or line up outside the fair grounds, with their noses pressed to the chain wire fencing.
I was in Mount Hagen with photographer Karl Grobl from Jim Cline Photo Tours. My fellow photo-tour participants and I were enjoying virtually unlimited access to groups as they prepared themselves and danced their way around and into the grounds (see: Western Highlands Women).
I would have like to have been able to communicate better and understand more about the actual stories behind the face paint and costumes. But, English is the third or fourth language for anyone who speaks it in the region, and my Tok Pisin, or “New Guinea Pidgin” is almost non-existent.
So, we’ll have to satisfy ourselves with a few portraits. Do join me!
Couple with a Rainbow Umbrella Outside the festival arena, vendors are seated on the ground with their wares on plastic. This man holds an areca nut in one hand, while asking me for a cigarette with the other. Tobacco is often mixed with areca for the betel chew that is ubiquitous across the country.
Blue and White All around the us, people are getting ready for their performances. The variations in the face-paint and costume styles are amazing. I’ve shared pictures of these women before (see: Women of the Western Highlands); I love their serious faces. The nets of moss and hair provide the base for the elaborate headdresses of feathers that will soon be painstakingly constructed.
Man and Child Local people watch with interest as the performers get ready to file into the grounds. Corrugated iron is a regular feature in the buildings.
Penis Gourds Penis sheaths, or koteka, were once commonly worn by men to cover their penises. Made from gourds, woven materials, or a combination of both, the versions for sale to tourists are often less roomy.
Old Uncle in a Hat This old gentleman was selling traditional weapons …
The Pipe Seller … while his neighbour was demonstrating his whistling pipes.
A Western Highland Dance Troupe The sound of kundu drums and singing lets me know where the street leading to the show-grounds is.
Elimbari Culture Group One by one, the groups make their way through the streets towards the entry gate …
Skirts Swirling … with their grass and fibre skirts swirling …
Simbu Play Group “Tail Feathers” … and their tail pieces swishing, as the kundu drums keep up a rhythm.
Men In Brown Feathers Not all of the groups are sign-posted, and not all of the signposts are legible; …
Young Woman in Brown Feathers … my guess based on the style of costume and face paint is that these are coastal or island people.
Young Woman in Feathers and Shells I loved this young woman: her expression was as tender as the soft feathers in her hair.
Mother and Infant A sing sing is a family affair: children are part of the action from their earliest days.
Koglat Mama Every troupe has their own kundu (drum) rhythms as they dance their way towards the entry.
Women in Black and Green
Black Mama Wur Wur Woman
Child in an Islander Group Many of the youngsters are solemn as they sing and dance with their elders.
Papuan Grass Skirts Papua New Guinea includes numerous islands and miles of coastline; …
Hats and Skirts … dance groups from these areas often incorporate large constructions as hats or props (see: Heal our Spirits).
Elaborate Islander Headdresses
Big Eyes
Islander Headdresses These hats have their own stories to tell!
Face Painting The preparation takes hours! A Western Highland man puts the finishing touches on a woman’s face paint before they enter the grounds (see: Women of the Western Highlands).
It wasn’t even noon yet; the temperature kept rising and the groups kept coming…
[…] grounds nice and early, which allows me to chat with performers while they get ready (see also: Tribal Expressions and Women of the Western […]ReplyCancel
- Performing the Ganga Aarti from Dasaswamedh Ghat, Varanasi
- Buddha Head from Shwedagon Pagoda, Myanmar
- Harry Clarke Window from Dingle, Ireland
- Novice Monk Shwe Yan Pyay Monastery, Myanmar
Packets of 10 for $AU50.
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Nothing stays the same … 
[…] started my day at Edfu, after sailing up from Luxor the day before (see: Luxor Bazaar and the Mighty Nile). We’d spent the day chugging up-river, watching the banks with their rich farming lands and […]