Egypt to Sudan
by Ferry

People were already spreading themselves across the upper deck when I decided I wasn't going to sleep in my assigned place downstairs.

I had a proper numbered seat below deck. Red benches, luggage racks, little round windows, people sitting everywhere and bags pushed wherever there was space.

But outside was Lake Nasser.

So I took my things upstairs.

This was my way from Egypt into Sudan: the passenger boat from Aswan to Wadi Halfa.

I could have crossed the border by road. I chose the boat.

And once we left Aswan, I understood why.

First I had to get on the boat

The morning had already started with a small problem.

I had applied for my Sudanese visa at the consulate in Aswan and had been told I could collect it on Wednesday — the same day the ferry was leaving.

Except Wednesday arrived and the consulate was closed.

At around nine in the morning I was standing outside trying to explain the situation to the guard. The boat was leaving that afternoon. Somewhere inside the closed building was my passport.

I kept talking to him.

Eventually he went inside.

At about 9:45 I had my passport back with the Sudanese visa in it.

Now I could go.

I still had a little time, so instead of going directly to the port I made a quick return to Philae. I had last visited it during my 2008 trip to Egypt.

By 11:38 I was at Aswan port.

Then came tickets, police, immigration papers, departure formalities and waiting while cargo was loaded.

At 12:10 I boarded.

We didn't actually move until around 15:30.

This wasn't a Nile cruise

The boat was functional.

That is probably the easiest way to describe it.

It carried passengers, luggage and cargo. Inside were long red seats with numbers painted onto them. Bags and suitcases went onto wooden racks above people's heads. Men talked across the rows. People came and went through the doors.

No polished cruise cabins. No buffet tables.

Even the kitchen looked industrial.

One of my photographs shows a crew member working beside enormous metal pots while the inside of the stove behind him glows completely red. Everything is stainless steel, scratched surfaces and equipment designed to keep feeding a boat full of people.

I had paid for my place downstairs, but it wasn't where I wanted to spend the journey.

I went back up.

Out onto Lake Nasser

After Aswan, the water became incredibly still.

At around 16:30 I remember looking across a section where the surface seemed almost completely flat. Desert on one side. Water everywhere else.

Technically, what I was crossing was the huge reservoir created behind the Aswan High Dam. In Egypt it is Lake Nasser; across the border in Sudan the same body of water continues as Lake Nubia.

That explains the strange landscape in the photographs. This isn't a narrow river journey with villages continuously passing along the banks. At times it feels like being on an inland sea surrounded by desert.

About an hour after leaving, I filled in the Sudanese immigration paper aboard the ferry and handed over my passport.

Then the weather changed.

At around 17:30 a sandstorm came through and everybody had to move inside.

That didn't last forever. Eventually we came back out.

Sunset was around 18:40.

The warm light hit the side of the boat, the white clothes of the passengers and the desert hills. The wake ran along the hull.

Then the light disappeared.

I slept on deck under the stars

This is the part of the trip I remember most.

I didn't go downstairs to sleep.

I stayed outside.

Other passengers were already making beds directly on the deck. Mats came out. People lay down between the boat equipment and the lifeboats. Shoes were placed beside them.

Nobody needed to explain the system.

Find a space. Put something underneath you. Sleep.

A lot of the Sudanese men wore long white robes — jalabiyas — and several had their heads wrapped in white cloth. By morning the deck was full of white bundles stretched out on mats, with lifeboats hanging above us and shoes scattered around.

I slept there too.

Above us were the stars.

There was almost no light around the lake and very little development visible from the boat. Once the ferry lights were behind me, the sky was huge.

This wasn't the most comfortable bed of my travels. It was one of the best places I have slept.

One photograph from the crossing is simply our feet.

A Sudanese passenger in sandals on one side. Another barefoot on the other. My black travelling boots in the middle.

Below all three of us, the blue-green water of the lake was turning white in the wake.

It says almost everything about that boat.

We didn't need cabins to meet each other. Everyone was sharing the same deck.

Inside the bridge

At some point I also got to see the bridge.

It looked as practical as the rest of the ship.

There was an enormous green control panel covered in analogue meters, switches, red buttons and mechanical controls. A normal mobile phone had been placed on top of all this machinery.

Outside those windows was nothing but water and desert.

The boat kept pushing south.

Abu Simbel at sunrise

I woke before sunrise.

At around 04:25 people were still sleeping across the deck.

Some had barely moved.

The light slowly started coming back over the lake.

Then, at around 05:24, Abu Simbel appeared in the distance.

Very far away.

I wasn't arriving there by road with a parking area and a ticket office in front of me. I was standing on the deck of a passenger ferry heading for Sudan and looking towards one of Egypt's great ancient sites from the water.

The location makes more sense when you know what happened here.

The temples of Abu Simbel had to be dismantled and reconstructed on higher ground during the international campaign to save the Nubian monuments from the waters created by the Aswan High Dam. Today the temples sit above the reservoir that our ferry was crossing.

I had visited temples in Egypt before.

Seeing Abu Simbel like this was completely different.

A distant shape in the morning light.

Then the ferry continued south.

At about 05:48 came breakfast: tea and cookies.

Simple.

Perfect.

Sudan appeared

At around 09:20 I got my first view of Wadi Halfa.

Desert.

Low land.

The end of the boat journey.

The calm part of the day was about to finish.

We reached the port shortly afterwards, but arriving in Sudan wasn't simply a matter of walking down a gangway and leaving.

There were papers.

Then more papers.

I recovered my passport and checked the Sudanese entry stamp. At around 10:00 I finally stepped off the ferry.

Customs followed.

Baggage checks followed.

And then came Wadi Halfa.

From complete calm to complete chaos

After spending the night under the stars and watching the sun come up over almost empty water, the arrival felt chaotic.

People were moving everywhere. Bags and cargo were coming off the boat. Drivers were looking for passengers. Officials wanted documents. Everyone seemed to know where they were going except me.

I eventually got onto the back of a pickup truck.

That was my transport into town.

Ten minutes later I was in central Wadi Halfa.

And there was still more bureaucracy waiting for me.

Foreigners had to register, so I went to the registration office and started another round of forms. What looked like one small procedure took me until shortly after midday.

Only after finishing that could I start doing normal things again.

I bought a Sudanese SIM card.

Then I went to eat.

My first proper meal in Sudan was a bowl of foul — cooked fava beans, one of those simple dishes I would find again and again as I travelled through the country.

After that, I found a room.

The first hotel cost me around €1.25 for the night.

I later changed to another place.

It cost about €2.

Welcome to Sudan.

One night between two countries

The whole crossing had taken less than a day.

Aswan in the afternoon.

Sandstorm before sunset.

Dinner somewhere on the lake.

Sleeping outside under the stars.

People stretched across the deck.

Abu Simbel in the first light.

Tea and cookies.

Then Sudan.

The difference between the two ends of the journey is what remains strongest in my memory.

For most of the night there had been almost nothing to do. Sit by the railing. Talk. Watch the water. Look at the stars. Find a space on the deck and sleep.

Then the ferry touched Wadi Halfa and everything started moving again.

Passports. Customs. Bags. Pickup trucks. Registration. SIM card. Food. Hotel.

By lunchtime I was no longer a passenger crossing the water.

I was travelling through Sudan.

Continue through my best travel experiences — or see the UNESCO sites in Sudan.