We leave Beni Hassan and head towards Tel Al Amarna. There are so many sights to see. Two men are strippng the bark off the lower part of a palm tree; one is roped to it for safety. Two boys in a canoe are fishing. One rows, the other has a bamboo pole that he plunges into the water in the hope of spearing a fish. We haven't had lunch and it's about 2 pm, so we stop in a village and Rami goes to buy bananas and oranges for all of us. The children on the road below come running over to smile and wave and pose for photos. Rami comes back with bunches of little bananas, 15cm long. He hands us two each and then two mandarines. I have just eaten the two rolls I brought from breakfast, so now I have my second course.
Another village. A market. Always donkeys, donkeys, donkeys. The blue carriaged train to Luxor passes us. Always water around too. Either we have been beside the Nile, or beside one of the large canals that service the towns, or the ditches that take water to the fields. It appears that you can plant crops in desert sand, provided you have adequate water. Yet for 83 million people, only 5 per cent of the land is tilled!
Eventually we get to the Nile ferry. It's basically (as James would say) a big flat platform that can take about six small vehicles. Think, ancient, rusty, cranking and grinding. Our policemen are still with us; they drive on board, but trusty Emad, our bus driver, must wait for us. It's only about five minutes to cross, and we walk off and climb into two minibuses that have been arranged. Children surround us, asking for money and pens. I have NEVER been in such a noisy vehicle. It sounded as if all the parts of the engine, the doors and windows, were disconnected and jolting around separately.
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