AGATHA MADE ME DO IT

All the elements of a fine mystery were there. An exotic setting. A daring Nile River cruise. And a small group of strangers embarking on an itinerary thick with intrigue. by JAMES ROSS

I

touched down in Cairo on a splendid February afternoon to the city’s pandemoniac tangle of traffic and made my way, ever so carefully, to the pre-arranged hotel. It was fortuitous that I had arrived early, as the timing gave me the chance to sit in the plush lobby with a gin and tonic and size up my fellow travelers.

A small group of strangers

Of note, there was the requisite physician, in this case, a veterinary surgeon from Ohio, who had seen more than his fair share of mongrels. A loquacious businesswoman from Vancouver and a wealthy widow with a southern drawl arrived separately, but soon found a commonality in their singularity.

When a much-too-happy couple from Australia waltzed in, I made a note to steer clear, as my particular modus tends toward the somewhat subdued. Next, arrived an English military man with a lovely young woman who, I came to learn, was his third wife. What had happened to the first two, we may never know. Finally, a Parisian tour guide strolled to the registration counter, flush from the effort of the airport transit and yet somehow still remarkably poised.

A deeply obsessed scholar

As we gathered at the appointed hour in a private dining room, we were introduced to Ms. Fayez, a pleasant-faced Egyptologist who was not unjustly preoccupied with death. This fact became apparent during her initial lecture regarding Cairo’s pyramids, hieroglyphics, and necropolis—a literal City of the Dead and the eternal resting place of caliphs, sultans, scholars, mystics, and late modern day Cairenes. Apparently, the burial grounds are fraught with controversy over a construction project nearby. Locals are justifiably mortified.

The following day, as the Australians cooed, we learned the true depth of Ms. Fayez’s Egypt obsession during an astounding tour of Cairo’s legendary tombs. Both the widow and the veterinarian pursued the scholar with follow-up questions, which, in the good doctor’s case, seemed to come more from a desire to

The Shrine to Queen Hatshepsut know the scholar better, than the pursuit of further fact. But who am I to judge.

Giza’s Sphinx was appropriately astounding. There was a tense moment in which our elegant Georgian widow seemed stumped by the Oedipus riddle, but her naivety was revealed to be a ruse. Relieved that none of us would be eaten, we carried on. In the cool comfort of Cairo’s distinctive, pink Egyptian Museum, I imagined many a mysterious plot being carried out amongst the thousands of ancient artifacts.

Further south, in Luxor, more and larger artifacts were on open display, as was a multitude of fellow travelers. As we ambled past the temples at Karnak, through the Valley of the Kings, and to the shrine to Queen Hatshepsut, I and the Parisian guide, now glistening a bit in the heat of the day, pondered the fate of royals.

A notorious river cruise

Finally, we boarded a sturdy ship for our 4-day cruise up the Nile to Aswan. Standing at the railing as the boat slipped into the current, I breathed in the cool air and marveled at the surreal scene before me. The lateensailed feluccas cutting lines in the glassy water, as opportunistic egrets worked the shore for newts and tadpoles.

My curiosity peaked the next morning as our group wandered through the Aswan temple ruins. What must life have been like in ancient Egypt? Would I have visited the temples? If so, might I have sat in the front or the back? Searing afternoons were spent on the ship’s deck clinking cocktail glasses, sharing impressions of Egypt thus far, and meting out delicately embellished stories of life back home.

Out on the water, wrinkled men fished from small skiffs and eager hawkers paddled past flogging colorful gallabiyahs and embroidered kaftans. On shore, young shepherds herded beasts along well-worn paths. As dusk settled, haunting calls to prayer lingered in the air.

An unexpected confession

At night, on deck, beneath the stars, I confessed my love for Agatha Christie’s work to the English officer and his wife, both of whom seem mildly amused. A few minutes later we re-encountered, and their amusement turned to outright chortles when I greeted them with “An evening most agreeable, n’est-ce pas? And yet, mes amis,

one of you has a deadly secret.” Nearby, the French guide perked his ears and I gave him a mischievous look.

On the third day, we came ashore at a bend in the river and meandered through an expansive bazaar not far from the famously symmetrical Temple of Kom Ombo. My eyes surveyed the wide array of swords, baskets, amulets, silk kaftans, jewelry, spices, mesmerized tourists, and eagle-eyed locals. In Christie’s novels, Egyptian pounds might have been exchanged for a jewel-encrusted dagger, a dainty revolver, or vial of something nefarious. On an Agatha inspired whim, I asked a snake charmer for a photo. After I tipped him for the kindness, he and the frightful-looking reptile generously obliged. Scouring the scene for clues

At the edge of the Nubian Desert, I (not surprisingly) opted for a visit to the Sofitel Legend Old Cataract Aswan hotel, where Agatha Christie penned her magnificent book Death on the Nile. Perched on a cliff overlooking the storied river, I tried to imagine how she must have moved through the world, scooping up characters and evaluating every scene for means, motives, and opportunities. A drop of poison. A faulty engine. A loose rock. Sweet revenge.

Later, standing on the balcony to her well-preserved suite, I recalled Detective Poirot’s words while taking in the same view. “It enchants me. The black rocks of Elephantine, and the sun, and the little boats on the river. Yes, it is good to be alive.” And it was good to be alive. Especially after a daring flight south to Abu Simbel, where the temples of Ramesses II and Queen Nefertari appear to have been carved into the side of a mountain. Apparently, the buildings had to be moved to their current location to facilitate the filling of the Aswan High Dam reservoir. Almost certainly a watershed moment.

Alas, I had plenty of motive to stay and further delve into the many mysteries of Egypt, but real life beckoned. There is a new film I am determined to see, starring one Sir Kenneth Branagh. Early critical reviews are saying it it kills.

To plot an intriguing adventure of your own, contact your trusted Ensemble Travel advisor.

The Nile, Luxor

Coming to theaters February 2022

A new adaptation of Death on the Nile featuring an all-star cast, with Kenneth Branagh as Hercule Poirot.

Set against sweeping desert vistas and the majestic Giza pyramids, this tale of unbridled passion and incapacitating jealousy features a cosmopolitan group of impeccably dressed travelers, and enough wicked twists and turns to leave audiences guessing until the final, shocking denouement.©20th Century Studios