Back to the Past
- Tom Roberts
- Jan 1
- 3 min read
I had always planned to go to Egypt…someday, I said. But the expense, the pandemic, and other things in my life delayed it until this past November. The trip turned out not to be a typical travel tour for me but more of a spiritual experience I never expected. But years of research for my historical novel did not prepare me for what I felt on arrival.
Landing in Egypt felt less like arriving in a new country and more like crossing a threshold. From the moment my feet touched the ground, I sensed that this was a place where time, memory, and spirit quietly overlap.
In Cairo, our tour began with visits to some of the outlying ancient sites such as early pyramids at Saqqara and Abu Sir. Then the magic and mystery really hit me when I visited the Grand Egyptian Museum (the grand opening was five days earlier), a place so vast and modern it feels like a mystic connection between ancient and future worlds. Sunlight pours through glass walls as colossal statues greeted me at the entrance. Inside, I wandered past exquisitely detailed reliefs, everyday things frozen in time, and—most extraordinary—the full collection of Tutankhamun’s treasures, gleaming with gold and lapis as if they were crafted yesterday. I felt pure awe at how much ingenuity, artistry, and belief shaped this civilization. The exquisite quality as well as the volume of the artifacts on display just stunned me.
From Cairo, my journey continued as I flew south to Luxor, where history seems to lie in layers beneath your feet. On the west bank, the Valley of the Kings stretches between the rough, limestone hills. Stepping into the tombs of ancient kings was like slipping into the afterlife the pharaohs imagined: walls alive with color, gods guiding souls, yellow stars painted across blue ceilings meant to last forever. Each tomb gave me a sense of an intimate, almost secret, spot despite the grandeur of the kings who were laid to rest there. Even the vendors hawking their wares at the market seemed to have stepped out of time.
Soon the pace relaxes aboard the tour’s Nile River cruise. Life and the riverscape drifts by in a gentle rhythm—palm trees lining the banks, fishermen casting nets, children waving from shore, even some kayakers. The days are spent gliding between temples, evenings on deck as the sky turns pink and purple, the river and hills reflecting it all like polished stone. The Nile feels less like a river and more like a living timeline, carrying stories from ancient dynasties straight into the present.
On the final day of the tour, we had a 4:00 am private tour of the interior of the Great Pyramid of Giza. The city, quiet at that time of night, fades away as our bus leaves the palm groves of the greenbelt of the river, the desert opening up to reveal the Great Pyramid of Giza rising from the sand. No photo prepares you for its scale. Standing at its base, you crane your neck upward, trying to grasp how humans moved stones this massive with such precision. The air is dry, the floodlights sharp, and there’s a quiet reverence seeping from the last remaining Wonder of the Ancient World. It’s humbling—simple, solid, eternal.
Though no artifacts or wall paintings fill the interior chambers, I could not help sensing I was in a sacred place where the spirit of an ancient people spoke to me.
By the time my journey came to a close, Egypt had shifted something inside me. It wasn’t just the grandeur of its monuments or the depth of its history—it was the quiet spiritual resonance that lingered everywhere. Egypt didn’t demand belief; it invited reflection. And in that invitation, I left feeling more connected—to the past, to humanity, and to something timeless beneath it all.
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