continued.../5
We left Amenenhet III behind us; the dust cloud raised by our coach obscured our departing gaze. After a short time we found ourselves back in lush countryside with vibrant green fields full of crops. The sudden abundance of life giving water, clearly defines the fine line between the green fields of the living and the unrelenting desert of the dead.
Crossing over a small bridge, I sensed we were near to the completely ruined pyramid of Princess Neferuptah. She was Amenemhet III's favourite daughter, and she died young, when her doting father was still Pharoah. She was buried at Hawara in the king's burial chamber, until her own pyramid was ready to receive her body. The police would not allow us to stop here!! That was a pity. We continued on to Illahun.
Illahun offered us a completely different proposition. There we had to negotiate narrow village streets, not once but twice. We were joined by six armed guards to our rear, six upfront and one armed policeman on the coach. As you can imagine we created something of a fuss, but most of it in good part. The village streets were more like alleys and became narrower and narrower; they were also densely populated which made our progress very slow. The children waved, shouted and jumped about next to the coach windows. You can't help but notice how the kids are so fresh faced in contrast to the older folk, who looked so haggard and care worn. It must be a tough life in these parts. Eventually and not before time, we were in the open, only to be halted by a road surfacing machine. The freshly laid tarmac on the road ahead was still steaming. Does this pose us a dilemma? I thought, of course not, not to our Tourist Police - they ploughed ahead, and our coach followed in there wake. I had visions of us getting stuck firmly in the steaming surface, my worries were for nothing, and we made it through. The road workers watched us, their thoughts clearly visible "Mad Engleesh!" My thoughts exactly.
"Yes! Yes! I see it!" I shouted, with a certain amount of relief, as the pyramid loomed ahead. I was put firmly in my place by "one who shall remain nameless" saying, "It looks like the other one." "What nonsense!" I retorted, "It's at least thirty years older." Strangely, no one found that remotely amusing. As we approached yet another ticket office we could see an even bigger military presence. As we pulled up we were looked upon with suspicion, until I jumped out of the coach. "Ah.. . .Hogan!"
The tickets were again LE30.00. The short drive between the ticket office and the Pyramid of Senwosret II, attracted a further four armed guards. So just for the record, that's six in front, six bringing up the rear, four on the coach, plus our own guard. At this rate the coach would be overloaded.
Illahun, as at Hawara, has neither hieroglyphs nor statues and similarly very little worth photographing. When we arrived on the site we were taken to the entrance shaft of the pyramid on the south side. It lies open and was obviously a hazard to the unwary. We walked around the site viewing the Queen's pyramid. Her name is not certain; Queen Atemu . . . the rest of her name is lost. The rock-cut, royal mastabas that lay north of the pyramid also have open shafts, as with the other sites we had visited. We managed to see the shaft where Guy Brunton and Flinders Petrie discovered the wonderful jewellery of Princess Sit-Hathor-Iunet. The plundered tomb was examined in 1913; the finds included her red granite sarcophagus and canopic jars. This seemed to be all that had survived until they came across a plastered recess which contained a further five boxes. In these boxes were the necklaces, bracelets, scarab rings, anklets, mirrors, razors and cosmetic jars. The treasure also included a Royal Diadem of gold with a Uraeus, two pectorals, one of her father Senwosret II, the other of her nephew, Amenemhet III.
I told the group again, "Not only have you seen with your own eyes the treasures of the Middle Kingdom in the Museum. You have visited the sites within which they were discovered." I hoped that when they finally arrived home in England they would read the fantastic stories of the hardships endured by the great Egyptologists of the last century.
I hope this short trip gave the group an idea of what the likes of Flinders Petrie had to contend with. Speaking of contending with, we still had to negotiate our return through the village. This time they would be waiting for us. At Illahun we were badgered a little for baksheesh but nothing we couldn't handle. The journey back through the village was as animated as we had expected, but all in good humour from the locals. Thus we ended a tremendous, albeit long day. After Maidum we never saw a visitor or tourist, and for that matter Maidum was populated with just one bus and a few passengers; just exactly in some ways like the old days.
Finally I must praise the Tourist Police who took excellent care of us.
I advise against this trip for any other than the serious Egyptologist - it's tiring and arduous, a lot different to 1979.
Alan M Fildes
March 2005 |
