January 2nd, 1891.
I leave to-night for Kenneh as I could not get all the things collected any sooner. However, at last everything seems to be right. I have left full directions for Powney to come on after me next week. Floyer has been a “friend at court” throughout. He had another son born on New Year’s Eve, and is as proud as a peacock in consequence. Cairo has been very gay. I have dined and lunched out every day since I came, except once. Luckily I have escaped with only one ball. It rains here every day—yesterday in torrents; Cairo is a sea of liquid mud; it is impossible to get about anywhere. Athlumney will be my companion as far as Kenneh. He goes on to Wadi Halfa where his regiment is quartered. We went to the Pyramids together on Wednesday, right down inside. Thank goodness it is all over. I hope never to go there again. Those rascals calling themselves guides completely ruin all ones pleasure and interest. They are more like howling wolves than human beings, and money is their god, and who is to blame but the English tourist? The sun is struggling to get out to-day, but it is still very cold. I hope you are well. This is the last you will hear of me for some time.
Friday, January 2nd, 1891.
Left Cairo at 7 P.M. after great trouble with baggage, &c. These Egyptians are just like children, consequently we had to be at the station long before the train starts. We are a party of four, Lord Athlumney and Spong, both Bimbashis (majors) in the Egyptian army, and a doctor, by name Fowler. We had a good meal in the train and then turned in to sleep as best we could. My carriage is next door, with only one other in it, a Frenchman, so we each had a whole seat to sleep on. I did not get much sleep owing to the loud snoring of my companion; besides which, the Upper Egypt trains are not of the smooth-running kind. Moreover, they stop at every station and start afresh with a jerk, which I hoped would awake my noisy Frenchman, but in this I was disappointed.
January 3rd, 1891.
Arrived at Assiout at about 7.30 A.M., in time to see a most lovely sunrise over the desert. Here began again the difficulty about baggage. The depôt where it was stored (I had sent my heavy baggage on two days before) was nearly a mile from where the steamer leaves, so it had all to be put upon camels and brought down to the river. This seems a bad arrangement considering the train itself goes right down to the wharf. But the mind of the Egyptian official moves very slowly, and it apparently does not occur to him to have the luggage depôt at the point of departure of the boats. There are only about a dozen passengers on board, so we each have a good big cabin to ourselves, which is a great comfort. We are a mixed company at meals—English, French, Italian, Greek, Egyptian, Turks, and a party of Americans joined us in the afternoon. They feed us fairly well, considering—plenty of eggs and fruit; the former are worth seventy-five for a shilling in the native markets, where one can buy a whole sugar cane for a farthing. They say we shall reach Kenneh to-morrow night late. Our boat stops at intervals of about two hours to land the mails and take in passengers. We whiled away the evening with a rubber of whist, and retired to bed most sleepy after our journey of last night.
January 4th, 1891.
Still going up the river. Lovely weather; the thermometer stands at seventy-five during the day but drops to forty-five soon after sunset, so rugs and overcoats are not to be despised. They have got the railway extension[1] from Aniont to Girgeh nearly finished. This will make a good day difference in the Nile journey. Such an odd man came on board this morning, a huge Frenchman[2] dressed in the following garb. On his head an enormous helmet extending right round over his shoulders, a magnificent suit of brand new kharku, the whole finished off with a pair of long brown boots right up a foot over his knees; these were ornamented with spurs. He also wore a big overcoat, and was followed by two dogs. In his hands, which were carefully gloved, he carried a long thing like an alpenstock. I suppose the latter was to keep his dogs in order. This magnificent specimen of the French race has just disembarked again. Athlumney says he looked like one of Augustus Harris’s brigands.
A telegram has just been handed to me to say that rooms for the night have been secured for me at Kenneh. This is luck, as I expected to spend the night in the open somewhere outside the town. Arrived at Kenneh landing-place at 10.30 P.M., and had the greatest difficulty in getting the baggage ashore in the dark. At last, after fighting our way through a howling mob of men and donkeys, we managed to make a goodly heap on the river bank. Our difficulties were here by no means at an end, as there was nothing on wheels to remove our things to the town, about a mile off. However, after a while two camels were forthcoming, of which we made the most by fairly smothering them with baggage. I thought they would never carry it all, but the drivers said it was nothing of a load. I was informed on landing that a hotel had just been started at Kenneh; so we determined to give it a trial. The place is kept by a most villainous-looking Greek; but really he did his best to provide for his late and unexpected guests. I really believe we are the first. Clean sheets were forthcoming, and by the help of our own rugs we managed to make a very decent shakedown. There are no windows in the house, or rather no window-frames, so the space is filled up with a kind of open Venetian blind-arrangement of wood, which lets in plenty of fresh air.
Kenneh,