Were the ancient Egyptians to revisit Thebes these days, writes Nagwa Abdel-Hamid, who knows what they would make of their descendants (and others) surveying the centuries-old necropolis in colourful hot-air balloons? Last week, in the warm winter of Luxor, photographer Mohamed Wassim and I set out to the west bank of the Nile at 5.20 in the morning, too early for anyone to want to get out of bed. Yet we were too excited to pass up the opportunity, so excited we were positively eager to wake up. A microbus took us from the hotel to the shore, where we crossed the water from east to west in a small boat, and there, gathered around 15 rubber marvels at a conveniently central spot, we joined some 200 people, technicians and workmen as well as passengers and Balloonists -- as the balloon operators, pilot types who take their jobs more seriously than you would expect, are called -- united in the drive to compete with the birds and see the ancient world from above. The moment we leapt into our balloon came all too abruptly, and before we realised what was going on, our Balloonist Bahaaeddin Ahmed was reciting the safety instructions (my personal impression of the experience, for the record, is that it is safer than flying, driving or even, as in the case of Cairo, pedestrian transportation). A few minutes before departure Ahmed set off a small helium-filled balloon to determine air currents and wind direction, as he explained, which helps him choose the best itinerary; it rose in seconds, quickly disappearing into the skies above. And then, the fires roared, propelling us up over 1,000 feet into the air, and we were surrounded by a foggy dark dispelled gradually by the first light. A magnificent scene: the sun rearing timidly from the east bank, warming our trembling bodies as drifts of birds started their day, with the mountain-flanked desert glittering gold and red in the distance. We rose and rose, then we dipped past the Mortuary Temple of Hatshepsut rising out of Deir Al-Bahari like a jewel, flying even lower past the 19 metres tall Colossi of Memnon, all that remains of the temple erected to the memory of the Pharaoh Amenhotep III, so low I thought we might bump into one of them. A balloon journey costs approximately LE250 per person for Egyptian nationals, $100 for foreigners (though, since seven balloon-operating companies compete for passengers off season, at such times you could probably bargain for much lower prices). The most remarkable thing about it, perhaps, is the unexpected -- and eminently unpredictable -- itinerary. Not even the Balloonist knows when the balloon will come to a stop, for it moves depending on the winds (and said Balloonist's skill in navigating them); in one case, at least, the balloon could not be landed until it reached Naj' Hammadi, over 73km away from Luxor, and the passengers had to be brought back by car. Perhaps the wind will carry it west to the mountains, or directly above the golden strip of the Nile, which divides Luxor into two halves. In the west stand the Temples of the Queens, including the grave of Queen Nefertari, the wife of Ramses II, as well as the Valley of the Kings, which hold the remains of Tutankhamun, Ramses III, Tuthmosis III and Horemhep. Not that flying over any of these ruins makes up for a land visit, yet only from so high above can you see the old city in its entirety. The adrenaline rush comes not from being so high up in the air, but from the sight of such wonders, encouraging you to explore every last corner of the necropolis and find out about it. Closer to the banks of the river, you are accompanied by the birds while you watch the villages slowly waking up, the peasants setting out to endlessly green or yellow fields of cane, barley and corn -- a silence broken only by the fizzing and wheezing of the fire, the clicks of a camera shutter and the occasional burst of flash. Even at the highest altitude permitted by the Aviation Ministry of 2,000 feet, I felt no fear throughout the journey, during which communication with the observation towers never stopped. Likewise the conversation among the Balloonists: they never stopped exchanging commentary and advice. According to the sales manager of one of the balloon companies, Alaa Mohamed Ahmed, "It was the British millionaire Richard Branson, the owner of Virgin Airlines, who was the first to fly a balloon in Luxor in the early 1980s, in collaboration with an Egyptian company. Since 1997, the business has been 100 per cent Egyptian-owned." Ahmed, the youngest Balloonist in Luxor, started flying when he was only 16, having obtained the relevant licence from the Aviation Ministry. "I worked to establish a training school for Balloonists," he says, "and so far we have had seven graduates. Our aim is to expand the school to qualify as many highly skilled Egyptian Balloonists as possible. The Balloonist starts on a small balloon, with a basket big enough for three people, gradually moving onto six, eight and 12-passenger balloons until he achieves the necessary skill to operate a 32-passenger balloon, the biggest in the world -- made especially for Egypt." Balloon flying is so smooth and pleasurable you do not want it to end, yet gliding over the sugar cane fields, it was equally pleasurable to watch Ahmed directing us to an empty spot where the land crew awaited us, quickly pulling on the ropes Ahmed had let loose, having emptied the balloon of most of the hot air inside it to make the landing as smooth as the takeoff.
