Secret of the Nile

Travel Devoid of tourist hordes and a must-see reputation, Sudan doesn't usually come to mind as a top travel destination, but the grandeur of Meroe is well worth the trip.

The pyramid city of Meroe covers a remote mountainside on the banks of the Nile. In 1834, an Italian treasure hunter blew the tops off the pyramids in search of riches, leaving behind the decapitated remains.Show less

"The road is tough," Aiyman, my 30-year-old driver, said with a grin, as we hammered over another bump on a dirt track on the southern edge of the Saharan desert. I'm not sure what he was grinning at, except possibly the ridiculousness of our situation - off-road in a tiny Hyundai that was designed for the minuscule parking spaces and smooth roads of Seoul, we were in Sudan and miles from anywhere. My guide had convinced me he could easily get me to my destinations. The plastic eagle's head stuck proudly on the bonnet should have served as a warning: this was obviously a man who overestimated his car.

My journey that week had started a couple of hundred kilometres south in Sudan's capital, Khartoum. For the past few years I've been fascinated by the country's history. If it wasn't for political problems, Sudan, like its northern neighbour, would probably be one of the world's tourist magnets. Sudan's stretch of the Nile is teeming with monuments from ancient Egypt; in fact, it has more pyramids than its northern neighbour. For much of its history, Sudan was controlled by the pharaohs to ensure that a steady supply of slaves and elephants flowed up the Nile. Later, the local "black pharaohs" dominated their former masters. After being thrown out by invaders, they retreated south and continued to build distinctive pyramids for several more centuries.

The sights, when you do find them, are some of Africa's hidden gems - untouched by the throngs of tourists and unrelenting salesmen that can make Egypt's famous remains such hard work. The greatest of these sights was the reason for my trip: Meroe, a pyramid city that covers a remote mountainside on the banks of the Nile. Dozens of steeply walled pyramids gather in clusters across the rocky desert. Given its vastness, we have a sketchy knowledge of Meroe's history because its script hasn't been fully deciphered, but its scars bear testament to its violent past. In 1834, the pyramids were the victim of an Italian treasure hunter who systematically blew their tops off in search of riches, leaving the decapitated remains in the Saharan sands.

Luckily, the Pharaonic ruins are all located in the north of this massive country, within a couple of days' journey from the capital. The country's two-and-a-half million square kilometres provide Khartoum and the north with enough insulation from ravaged Darfur in the west and the unstable south. A rare incursion occurred this year, when rebels reached Khartoum's twin city of Omdurman, on the opposite side of the Nile. The rebels were quickly dispersed by the army.

Episodes like this ensure Sudan will conjure thoughts of perpetual war and poverty in most people's imaginations. But Sudan can offer a lot more than a colourful history to any traveller who is willing to tough out the odd basic hotel room or simple meal. The transport system is sound, with a good network of buses, taxis and planes. The land, the world's 10th largest, is gifted with what is possibly its most diverse population. Tribes of different colours, religions and ethnicities mingle in Khartoum's bustling semi-paved streets. Don't expect the glitzy souqs of North Africa and the Levant - stacked with gold plates and fine carpets. Sudan's shops have their own flavour, much of their wares brought up from the African south. Woods carved into countless masks with pained expressions and statues of distorted bodies provide tourists with excellent mementoes.

The streets of Khartoum consist of a grid of dishevelled concrete buildings, perfumed with the mild stench of open sewers. Hunting through these colourful streets, watched by a thousand shades of black and brown faces, I planned my trip. I could tie a trip to Meroe in with a visit to the nearby temple at Naqa, a unique monument chiselled with lively depictions of its former rulers. But first, I had to endure Sudanese officialdom - a two-day-long quest for permits, visas and letters. With patience, I found the end of the paper trail and began my northward journey. A three-hour bus trip took me to Shendi, where I hired my overconfident guide and his underpowered car. As it turned out, he did not even know the way to the ancient Egyptian ruins that I was searching for, and we had to pick up a local Beja tribesman, Rahamdullah, to guide us over the relentlessly undulating track.

As we made for the temple at Naqa, the tracks in the sand deepened so much that the car's undercarriage began to skid on the raised centre. I knew then our first destination was unreachable. With disbelief, I watched Aiyman push on, punishing his car. Eventually, we grinded to a halt like a derailed train. When Aiyman opened the bonnet, the engine's water and the liquid coolant fizzled from underneath their screw-tops, boiling. It took us nearly two hours to heave the car back out of the sand trap and back to more solid ground. I couldn't help but take a picture. Rahamdullah complained as he scurried to the front of the car to scoop the sand out from underneath the bumper and then quickly back to the rear to lead the push. Short and plump, with hands like worn shovels, his constitution defied his years.

Disappointed, we abandoned our first destination. But thankfully, after an hour's rest in the desert our little car proved its mettle and shuddered back to life. The real reason for our trip, Meroe, was still reachable as it was much closer to the asphalt road. The sun was getting low in the sky so I worried if we would get there before dark. Aiyman wasn't too concerned; he just pounded down the motorway blasting Egyptian music at a volume that made the speakers screech. In the distance, at last, I got the first glimpse of the pyramids; they poked out of the jagged desert like gigantic broken tombstones.

Dishevelled but impressive, the many remains caught the shadows of the dying sun and cast a long impression across the pink sand. I wondered at the past glories of this ancient civilisation. Most men would be unable to eke out a living from this harsh environment, but this civilisation built monuments that have stood for aeons and now look like they have melted into the arid ground. I climbed to the top of a hill to rest and enjoy the view, as a solitary local strolled past on his camel. It was an unforgettable experience, a million miles from the hassles of Egypt. There were no sellers tugging on my shirt sleeves, no guards looking for some baksheesh, no tourists pretending to smile for the cameras, there weren't even any footprints in the sand. Sudan may be battered and bruised, but it has an untouched beauty and it's unlike anywhere else.