Friday

We are really looking forward to heading south and down the Nile. We drive in air-conditioned cars through impeccable countryside, with neat strips of cotton, maize, wheat, peppers, tomatoes and sesame seeds, past the Nile which, in a bizarre way, looks not unlike the Thames in Sonning. We overtake trotting, well-fed donkeys pulling laden carts with tyred wheels, and gleaming horses pulling highly polished carriages. There are no mountains of garbage, muck and polystyrene cans, and although it is very hot the air smells sweet and the belly of the mother Nile is pregnant with ripe fertility. We check into the Winter Garden Hotel, which in fact is two hotels - the old colonial building, slavishly maintained to the standards of yesteryear, and the new Winter Garden, a cheerful, bubbling, efficient, all-purpose hotel, with friendly staff, a bartender who does not use a measure and a coffee shop that serves middle-of-the-road local and international food 24 hours through 24 happy hours a day.