(I need to change my WordPress settings and plan because I can’t upload pics anymore as I’ve used up the available space. My pics are on FB and here are my thoughts and feelings.)

Philae Temple

This morning took us by boat to the Temple of Philae, dedicated to Isis. The temple sits on an island, surrounded by the shifting light of the river, and arriving feels a bit ceremonial. Especially long before the crowds and the heat. The temple stood quiet and cool, its carved pillars casting soft shade across the water.

Philae is feminine, graceful, filled with gentle carvings of motherhood, magic, grief, and power. It feels like a temple built to hold emotion, not just worship.

There are the reliefs of Isis putting the parts of her husband Osiris back together and of her holding the infant Horus felt especially tender – a reminder that even in this monumental, mythic landscape, motherhood and family sat at the centre of so much devotion

This temple was also moved piece by piece in the 1960s to save it from flooding when the Aswan High Dam was built. A miracle of engineering preserving a miracle of devotion.

I’m still fragile after a rough night, running on nothing but determination and cans of Sprite, but the calmness of Philae gave me a momentary reprieve.

The High Aswan Dam

From there, we headed to the High Aswan Dam — a structure far less romantic than ancient stone, but just as important to Egypt’s story. Built in the 1960s with significant Soviet support, the dam was designed to control the Nile’s yearly floods, provide hydroelectric power, and secure reliable water for agriculture. Before the dam, the Nile’s flood cycle could be both a blessing and a disaster: too little water meant famine; too much meant entire villages underwater.

Lake Nasser, the massive reservoir created behind the dam, stretches all the way into Sudan. Its benefits have been shared — and debated — ever since. While it stabilised water access and boosted energy production for Egypt, it also caused ecological and cultural loss, including the displacement of Nubian communities and ongoing political tensions over water rights with Sudan and further south along the Nile. Standing there, looking out over the vast stillness of the lake, you can feel both the achievement and the cost.

The Unfinished Obelisk

Our final stop was the Unfinished Obelisk of Aswan – a gigantic monument still lying in the granite bed it was carved from, abandoned when a fatal crack split its side. It was intended for Hatshepsut, Egypt’s powerhouse queen who truly radiated Big Dick Energy centuries before the concept existed. This obelisk would have been the largest ever attempted. Her stepson Thutmose III, perhaps intimidated or simply more realistic, later ordered obelisks of far more modest proportions.

Aswan’s granite quarries were the source of many ancient obelisks. Workers carved them directly from the bedrock using handheld dolerite (harder than granite) balls – basically ancient hammer stones -to pound out the shape. Once freed, these multi-ton monoliths were dragged to the Nile, loaded onto specially built barges, and floated all the way to temples like Karnak in Luxor. The engineering alone is mind-bending.

Even feeling weak and hollow, I couldn’t help but be impressed. Today was less about physical stamina and more about witnessing the sheer audacity – of gods, queens, engineers, and a civilisation determined to carve its story into time itself.

Sailing to Esna

By the time we returned to the boat to set sail toward Esna, I was still not at my best – a little wobbly, a little hollow, but finally starting to feel the first hints of hunger. A promising sign. Josh went down to lunch and came back triumphantly with toast, which tasted like the food of the gods after the night I’d had. So naturally, I sent him back on a second mission for potatoes… and, at his enthusiastic insistence, a serving of the self-saucing chocolate pudding he declared “the best he’s ever eaten.”

He wasn’t wrong. It was warm and rich and exactly the kind of comfort food you want when you’re still recovering. Now we wait and see if my tummy agrees – a gamble worthy of an Egyptian pharaoh rolling the dice with destiny.

I slept the entire afternoon away – the kind of deep, dreamless sleep that only travel exhaustion (and a slightly rebellious stomach) can deliver. When I finally surfaced, it was time for our Goodbye Dinner, the traditional farewell on the second-last night of a Nile cruise.

The dining room glowed with candlelight, and the crew delivered the warmest speeches and thank-yous, the kind that make you realise how quickly you can become attached to people you’ve only known for a handful of days. I dressed up, determined to rally, and managed to eat a bit more than I had all day.

Still, after the toasts and the laughter, I bowed out early. A final long sleep felt like the best souvenir I could take into tomorrow – and with the Temple of Esna waiting for us at first light, I’m hoping both my energy and my sense of wonder will be fully restored.