Emerging from the heat shimmer, these two enormous statues in Luxor appear completely otherwordly – like giants in a wheat field

I was 22 and after finishing a degree in Arabic had moved to Cairo to try to learn how to actually speak the language. I was thrilled by the chaotic wildness of the city that is called Umm al-Dunya, the Mother of the World. Millions of people crowd into Cairo night and day. It was dusty and noisy and polluted and I loved it. I also wanted to explore the country, so that first summer I headed south to the temples and tombs of Luxor.

It was an overnight ride of 13 hours on a bus stuffed full of farmers going home after selling their wares in the fleshpots. I fell asleep, soothed by the driver’s Qur’anic verses, and woke up in paradise.