Sailing A Felucca Down the Nile

Lounging on cushions, Z high in the mast above, I watch a kingfisher flutter into a desperate hover, plunge deep into the Nile and emerge with a silvery fish.

And I think: “I like this life of ours. I like it a lot.”

Three days and nights on our own felucca and the Nile: pure zen!

As the river shades from blue to purple ahead of a dazzling sunset, egrets flutter home to roost in the tall rushes.

Rural life in this narrow strip of green that fringes the desert is calm, gentle, timeless…

Buffalo and donkeys graze on the riverbank. Fishermen sit patient with hook and line in a boat with a tiny sail.

Children leap from high banks, while their mothers wade into the river from the beach, abaya, shawl, scarf and all…

A baby crocodile paddles below reflecting rushes – the bulrushes of Moses? In Sinai we walked in his footsteps, and now we sail on the river that rocked his cradle.

Sailing is never silent. You have the wash of the Nile around the rudder, the whistle and pop of wind in the sails as you tack, the chop, when the river opens out, of baby waves against the hull, the feel, for a moment, of an inland sea until it flattens to millpond smooth.

But sailing comes close to silent. None of the chugging tugs that tow the dahabbiyas. None of the grimy smoke, bilge churn and engine hum of the cruise boats. And so you can watch the birds, and hear the birds.

And see some sights, of course.

At the quarries of Gebel Silsila, where billions of tons of sandstone were carved for ancient temples, shrines and tombs are carved into the rock, with windows where a wandering soul can look out across the Nile.

There are islands to adventure on. Prehistoric rock art to track down.

And between times, you can just hang out.

At the end of the day, cooled and rocked by the Nile, comes one of the best sleeps ever, under stars almost as bright as the light in the Sinai Desert.