Dear Diary, February 24, 1922; I am settling into life on the Dahabiyya, which has been mostly uneventful. Well, except for the minor collision with the bridge. Three bridge officials leaped on board,and there was much discussion between them and the master, and Professor Burton. Finally, after many cups of coffee and endless cigarettes, the matter seemed to be settled, and the officials departed.
We rested last night under a lovely grove of palms, and dined by the light of the moon. In the morning, we watched the women of the village carrying their huge jars to the river to fill. There is a light breeze, and we are making steady progress up the Nile.
The other travelers on board the Dahabiyya are a varied lot, some seem to be archaeologists of some stature, whereas others seem of a very uncertain background. I begin to study the strange hieroglyphic symbol, of which I meant to ask the Professor's opinion. But suddenly there is a knock on my cabin door, and I hide it away in my satchel before answering.
Dear Diary, February 24, 2009: Oh, how I long to go on an exciting journey such as hers! Deep inside, this yearning is so compelling that I can't even describe it, I can't find the words. I go to my sketchbook, and try to capture them on the page. Yet all I can manage are some strange symbols, and hieroglyphs, which I'm not sure even I can translate. It is the language of the heart. I can't stop to decipher it. First I must get it on to the page.
Egypt & The Nile with Juliana Coles March 11-22, 2009