I am dodging objects flying in through my window. The first bundle whizzes by my head, a second one thuds against the ceiling.
I'm aboard the S.S. Orchestra, one of a flotilla of cruise ships lined up to go through the Esna locks on the Nile, and I'm looking down from my state room at an extraordinary scene.
Like filings drawn to a magnet, swarms of small boats have begun to crowd to the edges of our ship, and the late afternoon air is noisy with the splash of oars and the sound of vendors bellowing.
The men hold up gold and scarlet embroidered cotton caftans, counterpanes and tablecloths imprinted with pyramids and camels. They bundle them into plastic bags and chuck the parcels through windows or hurl them up to the passengers edging the railings of the top deck of the ship.
Considering the deck looms 90 feet or more above the vendors' heads, the accuracy of their aim is amazing, not a single bundle misses its target. Fierce bargaining ensues, theatrical shrugging of shoulders and much gesticulation as bags fly up and down.
Up to this time, our journey down the Nile has been tranquil. We have cruised by scenes that are timeless: a man in flowing robes sits astride his donkey as he rides along an embankment, women wash clothes on stone steps by the water and boys lark around in the river.
But the Nile is also crowded by hundreds of cruise ships. People laze by deckside pools or lean on the rails to wave as we pass by. I take refuge from the gruelling afternoon heat and sip iced coffee in the air-conditioned lounge.
The blazing sun necessitates early morning tours or late afternoon trips. We step back thousands of years into history and mythology as we gaze at towering temples dedicated to the Sun God Ra, to Isis, her brother Orisis and her son, the hawk-headed Horus.
Lofty pillars pierce the sky, their carved embellishments and hieroglyphs having endured centuries of sandy windstorms and blistering heat.
In the Valley of the Kings, I step gingerly down into the tomb of King Tut Ankh Amun. The teenaged Pharaoh's small shrunken remains lie to one side of the cave, while his decorated burial chamber is displayed on the other side.
It is strangely moving to see the boyking naked as it were, stripped of all the grand trappings of his elaborate golden sarcophagi, his mummy mask and glittering jewellery as exhibited in shows around the globe.
The Valley of the Kings is a vast necropolis that contains about 63 tombs, dating from approximately 1539 to 1075 BCE.
No Nile cruise would be complete without sailing on a felucca. A sultry breeze fans my face as we make our way to a Nubian village.
Nubian families displaced from their original homeland by the construction of the Aswan High Dam have been re-settled in a cluster of flat-roofed, concrete houses painted in indigos and yellows. Our hosts graciously serve us tea and home-made bread.
We are beckoned over to a concrete tub containing one-week-old baby crocs. One of them is held up for us to stroke which I do with some trepidation. We're assured they will be returned to their mothers the following day. The tour wraps up with a visit to a neighbourhood school where I learn to write my name in Egyptian.
Back on the S.S. Orchestra, a Galabeya party and a cabaret performance by a troupe of Nubian dancers brings our cruise to a splendid finale.
For more information, contact: OTI Travel Services, 3220 Broadway West, Vancouver, at 604-738-3433 or 18008170544 (toll free). You can also email info@ oti.travel or visit http: //www.oti.travel/ CruisingtheNile.html.
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