At Mit Rahina

slkdfjslkjkfj Baedeker map — From a map in a 1914 guide to Egypt and the Sudan published by Karl Baedeker
(Wikimedia Commons public domain image)

I found out just last night that — contrary to what I had heard before — there are still some spaces available on the “Exotic Egypt” tour that Hany Tawfik and I will be leading from 9 May through 16 May 2019.

I hope that some of you will consider coming along. This country is inexhaustibly interesting.

***

I’m trying to catch up with my account of what we’ve been doing.

On Thursday, 3 January 2019, we drove down to the impoverished little village of Mit Rahina, which sits on the site of ancient Memphis, the capital of the mighty pharaohs of the Egyptian Old Kingdom. The drive down, along one of the local irrigation canals, is an interesting and occasionally appalling one. (The poverty is stunning.) Like so much else in Egypt, Mit Rahina offers a real opportunity to reflect on the transience of human glory. But it’s also fascinating, with its statues of Ptah and other deities and its famous colossal image of Ramses II.

fjladlkajsk Ramses II — The colossal statue of Pharaoh Ramses II that lies just inside the gated entrance to the archaeological remains of ancient Memphis (Wikimedia Commons public domain)

Ramses was, it seems, a major egomaniac. He would probably be pleased to know that people still stare in awe at his images.

***

While I’m thinking about the ephemeral character of all things mortal, I guess that I might as well post the great poem “Ozymandias,” by Percy Bysse Shelley (1792-1822), yet again. It’s plainly apropos. I cited it to our tour group when we were looking at the Colossi of Memnon down near Luxor, but I don’t believe that I’ve quoted it on my blog during this particular trip. Here it is:

I met a traveller from an antique land,

Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,

Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,

And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;

And on the pedestal, these words appear:

My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;

Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

Posted from Cairo, Egypt