Sunday morning magic: the unfinished obelisk and Philae Temple
The thing I love most about traveling is when you have those days where everything just flows perfectly. Today was one of those days.
I woke up early, watching the sun rise over the Nile from my hotel balcony. There's something about morning light here in Aswan that feels different - softer somehow, with a golden quality that makes everything look like it's been gently filtered. The river was calm, with only a few early felucca boats gliding silently across the water.
After a quick breakfast (and necessary coffee), I headed out at 7:30 to visit the Unfinished Obelisk. I'd read that it gets busy later in the day, so arriving early seemed wise. When I got there at 7:50, I was actually the first visitor - the ticket office had just opened, and the site attendant smiled as if surprised to see anyone so early.
The unfinished obelisk: an ancient engineering mystery
Walking into the quarry site, I was immediately struck by the sheer scale of what I was seeing. The unfinished obelisk lies exactly as ancient workers abandoned it, partially carved out of the bedrock. If completed, it would have been 42 meters tall and weighed approximately 1,200 tons - the largest known ancient Egyptian obelisk ever.
What makes this site so fascinating is that it offers a rare glimpse into ancient construction techniques. You can clearly see the marks where workers pounded the granite with dolerite balls to separate the obelisk from the surrounding rock. I spent about 20 minutes just walking around it, trying to comprehend the ambition behind such a project.
The site attendant, noticing my interest, came over and explained that the project was abandoned when cracks appeared in the granite. Imagine the disappointment after all that work! He pointed out details I would have missed - the outline marks where they planned the cuts, and even some ancient graffiti from workers.
"They were just like us," he said with a smile. "Always leaving their mark."
I found myself thinking about the people who worked here over 3,500 years ago. What were their lives like? Did they go home at night complaining about their difficult boss or the impossible deadline? Some things probably never change.
Boat journey to Philae Temple
After the obelisk, I made my way to the dock where boats depart for Philae Temple. This temple was actually relocated piece by piece in the 1970s from its original location to save it from being submerged after the construction of the Aswan High Dam. Now it sits on Agilkia Island, surrounded by the waters of Lake Nasser.
The boat ride itself was lovely - about 15 minutes across calm water with views of desert hills and small islands. My boat captain introduced himself as Hassan and pointed out various landmarks as we crossed.
And then, suddenly, there it was - Philae Temple appearing around a bend, its columns and pylons reflected in the water. The approach by boat makes it feel like you're discovering something secret and sacred.
What struck me immediately about Philae was how different it feels from the temples in Luxor. While those are imposing in their massive scale, Philae has a more intimate, almost delicate quality. It's dedicated primarily to the goddess Isis, and there's something distinctly feminine about its proportions and setting.
I spent nearly three hours exploring every corner of the temple complex. The reliefs here are exceptionally well-preserved - many still show traces of their original colors. I was particularly fascinated by the Mammisi (birth house), with its carvings depicting the divine birth of Horus.
At one point, I found a quiet spot in the hypostyle hall where I could just sit and absorb the atmosphere. The sunlight filtering through the columns created shifting patterns on the stone floor. A small group of French tourists passed by, their guide speaking in hushed tones, and then I was alone again with just the sound of water lapping against the island.
Conversations by the Nile
After returning to the mainland, I was hungry and found a small restaurant overlooking the Nile. I ordered koshary (becoming something of an addiction during my time in Egypt) and a cold hibiscus tea. The owner, seeing me alone with my notebook, came over to chat.
His name was Amir, and he was curious about where I was from and what brought me to Aswan. When I mentioned Norway, his face lit up.
"I had Norwegian customers last year! Very nice people. They told me about the midnight sun. Is this true?"
We ended up talking for nearly an hour about everything from the differences in climate between our countries to how tourism has changed in Aswan over the years. Amir explained that Aswan has always been more peaceful than other Egyptian destinations - "Even in ancient times, this was where people came to relax," he said.
He recommended that I visit the Nubian village tomorrow, saying it would show me a different side of Egyptian culture. "The Nubians have their own traditions, their own language even. Very colorful houses - good for photos," he added with a wink.
It's now just past 1:00 PM, and I'm back at my hotel for a short break during the hottest part of the day. The temperature has risen to about 23°C - pleasant by December standards, but the sun feels intense. I'm planning to head back out later when it cools down a bit, maybe take a walk along the Corniche and find a spot to watch the sunset.
With 390 days still ahead in my journey, I'm trying to find the right balance between seeing everything and actually experiencing places. Today felt like a good mix - I saw significant sites but also had time for unexpected conversations and quiet moments of reflection.
Tomorrow: the Nubian village and perhaps the botanical gardens on Kitchener's Island. But for now, I'm content to sit on my balcony, watching feluccas with their white sails drift along the timeless Nile, thinking about how places like this put our brief human lives into perspective.