No Visa for Me

Perhaps it's good in one way that there are still some countries out there that haven't sold out to the tourism god. Even brutal dictatorships such as North Korea and Myanmar can sniff a dollar out there, but the Sudan? Uh, uh. Not to say obtaining a visa is impossible, but if one holds an enemy passport, permission must be granted from the Ministry of Interior in Khartoum, and for this one needs an advocate inside the country who cares. Even a famous author such as Paul Theroux had to wait for weeks in Egypt, and he was not allowed to enter by land. Euro passport holders have a much easier time. All I have to offer is a letter of invitation from Khartoum and lots of charm, but that's not good enough. So, I offer a salute to the consulate pictured above.

It's not that big a deal since I've seen the merging of the two Nile Rivers before while flying into Khartoum in 1973. I hear the Sudanese people are among the most hospitable and unspoiled in all of Africa, and for this I regret not getting in. But things (like not getting a visa) always happen for a reason. The Sudanese probably did me a favor because it's now 50 degrees (that's over 120F) in Aswan, and it's not like there is a ton of shade in the Sudanese desert.

This description from the Victorian traveler, Lady Duff Gordon, sums it up: "The silence of noon, with the white heat glowing on the river which flowed like liquid tin, and the silent Nubian rough boats floating down without a ripple, was magnificent and really awful."

As much as I like Aswan, it's back on the overnight train to Cairo to catch a flight to Ethiopia. Time to keep moving south...