From Karnak to Kom Ombo

Some days begin quietly while others begin with the sun setting fire to the sky as you float above ancient lands in a hot air balloon. Yesterday began exactly like that.

Leaving before first light, bundled into a van in the still-dark hush of Luxor. The stars still shimmering above us as we boarded the boat across the Nile to reach the launch site. Once in the balloon... all of a sudden, we rose. Suspended in a woven basket, drifting into sunrise. Below us: a golden sea of history. Temples. Tombs. Palm groves. Above us: silence, stillness, awe.

I stood with the sun on my face, the wind soft and kind, my heart echoing with reverence. Floating over Luxor at sunrise felt like prayer without words. A moment I will carry for the rest of my life.

That was all before the breakfast box filled with sweet and savoury delights.

Back on the ground, our feet found sacred soil as we entered the Valley of the Kings—a resting place for royals and a gateway to the divine. Over 60 tombs carved into the golden cliffs, each a portal to mystery, reverence, and devotion. Instead of following the crowds to Tutankhamen’s tomb, we followed intuition down quieter paths. We visited the resting places of Seti I, Siptah, and the grand tomb of Ramses V and VI, all vibrantly alive with colour and ancient symbols.

To witness these sacred spaces was to feel time collapse into presence. I traced my eyes along the stone (with reverence, not touch), imagining the hands that carved these truths thousands of years ago.

And then... to temples.

Karnak Temple greeted us like an ancient guardian. Towering columns, echoing corridors, and energy that vibrated beneath our feet. We were told the foundation stones lay seven metres deep, anchoring the site to the earth.

I stepped on a granite slab said to clear negative energy and felt a quiet shiver rise up my spine. A reset. A return.

Here, everything meant something.
Left feet forward on statues symbolised stability and movement guided by the heart. Egyptian blue shimmered, a pigment so sacred and vivid that modern science still can't fully replicate it. The kings were painted in red-brown tones—earthy, strong, divine.

From there, we continued to Luxor Temple, the "Place of Palaces," once part of a city with 100 gates. Its facade was built by Ramses II, and the original temple by Amenhotep III, grandfather of Tutankhamen. The presence of Nefertiti lingers in the air here, a powerful matriarch whose energy still hums between the sandstone walls. Her story feels like perfume: subtle, feminine, unforgettable.

Our sacred journey also led us to the awe-inspiring Temple of Hatshepsut (pronounced "Hat-cheap-suit"), a marvel carved directly into the cliffs of Deir el-Bahari. This grand mortuary temple honours one of the most powerful female pharaohs of Egypt. As we approached, the terraces appeared to rise in quiet majesty from the earth, echoing her strength and visionary rule.

Hatshepsut defied tradition, ruling as king in a patriarchal world and her temple reflects that boldness. The symmetry, the reliefs, the scale—all of it spoke of a woman who led with both authority and grace. Standing before it, I felt the weight and wonder of her legacy, a reminder of what it means to rise beyond limitation. 

Later that day, we checked into our floating home for the next few nights: the Sun Times Nile Cruise. Lunch flowed into golden hour, and the Nile mirrored the sky. That night, we dined under the stars—lulled by the rhythm of the river, held by the fullness of the day.

This morning, the sacredness deepened as we arrived at Edfu Temple, one of the best preserved temples in Egypt. Horus, the falcon-headed god, stands guard here—protector and guide. The temple had been shielded by sand for centuries, preserving every sacred inch. Inside, I learned of Neptari, the double-crowned bird goddess, her energy rising like flame—symbolising the unity of upper and lower Egypt, the wild and the wise.

Our guide shared something that still sits with me: when the waters of the Nile are low, it is said we must pray—perhaps because we have forgotten our divine connection. When the waters rise too high, we must pay—a reminder that nature demands balance, and we are part of that.

At Kom Ombo, we met duality made divine. Sobek, crocodile-headed god of strength and fertility. Haroeris, the falcon of light. Sermet, lioness goddess of war. Fierce. Feminine. Relentless in her protection. And then there was Tut (Tutankhamun). Not just the boy king, but a symbol of wisdom echoing through time.

The night ended in celebration: a Galabeya party aboard the cruise. Dressed in Egyptian fashion, we danced, laughed, and surrendered to joy.

Wild joy. Wild spirit. Wild wellness.

To walk through Egypt is to remember that the sacred is not lost—it’s simply waiting to be felt. In every stone, every sunrise, every story told in symbols, I am learning to lead with the heart.

Left foot forward. Always.

As I set my alarm with the wind whistling and a few water buffalos grunting, another ancient wonder awaits. An early morning flight to Abu Simbel is calling and with every fibre of my being, and I am so ready to answer.