Below deck: Why smaller boats rule for cruising down the world's longest river
It's mid-afternoon on the Nile and I'm watching the scenery glide by from the top deck of the Agatha, warm breeze tugging at my shirt. Every couple of kilometres we pass a village of flat-roofed mud brick houses shaded by date palms. Between each village is a luscious green sandwich of wheat and lucerne fields set against toasted sandstone hills. Ox carts plod and creak in a nimbus of dust. It feels as old as the Book of Psalms.
The story of Egypt is the story of the Nile. It is this river that has made life and civilisation possible here. Until the building of the dams at Aswan, the river flooded every year, delivering a rich cargo of fertile silt to the farms along its banks. Extending from the river, a filigree of canals and capillaries irrigate fields of wheat, cotton, rice, barley, grapes, and fruit trees. Where the irrigated fields end, a wilderness of sand and rock begins.
The Nile River cruise between Luxor and Aswan is a slow and languid voyage past the ribbon of greenery that rescues Egypt from the parched sands of the Sahara. Most travellers sail aboard the big vessels, which can carry between 40 and 150 passengers and travel in a convoy of five or six, tying up side-by-side along the riverbank at night.
Then there are boats like the Agatha, traditional dahabiyas with a single row of cabins that accommodate 10 to 20 passengers on the bottom deck while an expansive upper deck offers couches and tables beneath a shady awning. If the wind is strong, the crew hoist the sails but most of the time our dahabiya is towed by a tug at about the speed of a paddling duck.
One evening we tie up beside a village. A walk takes us through fields of date palms and mango trees and up into stone-covered hills, dry and lifeless in contrast to the oasis at their feet. On another evening, we berth alongside quarries that provided the sandstone for the great temple at Karnak. A couple of times we swim in the river. It's cold, and the current is too strong to swim against it, but we launch ourselves upstream of the Agatha and drift until we can grab the side ladder.
Loading
The upstream journey along the Nile from Luxor doesn't take you through the Egypt of grand temples and monuments, although the Temple of Khnum at Esna is a showstopper. One of the last temples built in Ancient Egypt, its columns are encircled by hieroglyphs of birds, snakes, human figures and mysterious symbols painted in pastel colours.
Sunrise paints the river scarlet. One morning, I'm on the top deck just as one of the crew wearing a gallabiyah, the long, loose, unisex Egyptian robe, appears with the morning coffee. We're tied up at a marshy island in the middle of the river. It's so quiet I can hear donkeys braying on the far bank, 200 metres away. Fisherman row past and herons stalk among the reeds while tiny kingfishers hover overhead, watching for a telltale swirl in the water. Except for the morning call to prayer echoing from an unseen village, it's a morning that Moses might have seen.

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles

Sydney Morning Herald
20 hours ago
- Sydney Morning Herald
Below deck: Why smaller boats rule for cruising down the world's longest river
This story is part of the July 6 edition of Sunday Life. See all 13 stories. It's mid-afternoon on the Nile and I'm watching the scenery glide by from the top deck of the Agatha, warm breeze tugging at my shirt. Every couple of kilometres we pass a village of flat-roofed mud brick houses shaded by date palms. Between each village is a luscious green sandwich of wheat and lucerne fields set against toasted sandstone hills. Ox carts plod and creak in a nimbus of dust. It feels as old as the Book of Psalms. The story of Egypt is the story of the Nile. It is this river that has made life and civilisation possible here. Until the building of the dams at Aswan, the river flooded every year, delivering a rich cargo of fertile silt to the farms along its banks. Extending from the river, a filigree of canals and capillaries irrigate fields of wheat, cotton, rice, barley, grapes, and fruit trees. Where the irrigated fields end, a wilderness of sand and rock begins. The Nile River cruise between Luxor and Aswan is a slow and languid voyage past the ribbon of greenery that rescues Egypt from the parched sands of the Sahara. Most travellers sail aboard the big vessels, which can carry between 40 and 150 passengers and travel in a convoy of five or six, tying up side-by-side along the riverbank at night. Then there are boats like the Agatha, traditional dahabiyas with a single row of cabins that accommodate 10 to 20 passengers on the bottom deck while an expansive upper deck offers couches and tables beneath a shady awning. If the wind is strong, the crew hoist the sails but most of the time our dahabiya is towed by a tug at about the speed of a paddling duck. One evening we tie up beside a village. A walk takes us through fields of date palms and mango trees and up into stone-covered hills, dry and lifeless in contrast to the oasis at their feet. On another evening, we berth alongside quarries that provided the sandstone for the great temple at Karnak. A couple of times we swim in the river. It's cold, and the current is too strong to swim against it, but we launch ourselves upstream of the Agatha and drift until we can grab the side ladder. Loading The upstream journey along the Nile from Luxor doesn't take you through the Egypt of grand temples and monuments, although the Temple of Khnum at Esna is a showstopper. One of the last temples built in Ancient Egypt, its columns are encircled by hieroglyphs of birds, snakes, human figures and mysterious symbols painted in pastel colours. Sunrise paints the river scarlet. One morning, I'm on the top deck just as one of the crew wearing a gallabiyah, the long, loose, unisex Egyptian robe, appears with the morning coffee. We're tied up at a marshy island in the middle of the river. It's so quiet I can hear donkeys braying on the far bank, 200 metres away. Fisherman row past and herons stalk among the reeds while tiny kingfishers hover overhead, watching for a telltale swirl in the water. Except for the morning call to prayer echoing from an unseen village, it's a morning that Moses might have seen.

Sydney Morning Herald
20 hours ago
- Sydney Morning Herald
Create your own Euro summer in the home with these accessories
This story is part of the July 6 edition of Sunday Life. See all 13 stories. Whether a Euro adventure awaits or it's simply a case of wanderlust, take inspiration from where we'd rather be – seeking sun, sand and chic stripes. Where to buy: Basil Bangs 'Beppi' deckchair, $389; Quay 'Text Me' sunglasses, $124; Kinnon by Romy passport holder, $189; Terrecotte Lotti 'Maremma' dinner plate, $55. Where to buy: KEY PIECE Missoni Home 'Dune' outdoor cushion, $595; Seafolly cover-up, $170; Alex and Trahanas ' Sardina' cocktail forks, $195 (set of four). Where to buy: Olive et Oriel Sundays at Il San Pietro framed canvas print by Teigan Geercke, from $70; Mor 'Italian Pear' candle, $50; Sally Caroline 'Lunetta' stool, $2840 (for two); Venroy 'Que Linda' cap, $60.

The Age
20 hours ago
- The Age
Create your own Euro summer in the home with these accessories
This story is part of the July 6 edition of Sunday Life. See all 13 stories. Whether a Euro adventure awaits or it's simply a case of wanderlust, take inspiration from where we'd rather be – seeking sun, sand and chic stripes. Where to buy: Basil Bangs 'Beppi' deckchair, $389; Quay 'Text Me' sunglasses, $124; Kinnon by Romy passport holder, $189; Terrecotte Lotti 'Maremma' dinner plate, $55. Where to buy: KEY PIECE Missoni Home 'Dune' outdoor cushion, $595; Seafolly cover-up, $170; Alex and Trahanas ' Sardina' cocktail forks, $195 (set of four). Where to buy: Olive et Oriel Sundays at Il San Pietro framed canvas print by Teigan Geercke, from $70; Mor 'Italian Pear' candle, $50; Sally Caroline 'Lunetta' stool, $2840 (for two); Venroy 'Que Linda' cap, $60.