Egypt with Seniors: “Ah, how wonderful to see you again!” calls out our client Mara, who has meanwhile become a friend, as she throws her arms around my neck. I warmly return the embrace.
It is 8 a.m., and we are standing in the lobby of a hotel where Mara and her friends arrived the previous night to begin a two-week journey through Egypt.
“Aren’t you exhausted?” I ask, referring to the extreme delay of their flight, which meant the group only reached the hotel around 3 a.m. And today, the itinerary already continues at a brisk pace toward Minya.
But Mara beams with energy and shakes her head. She says she slept well and is very excited about the journey. As a small gift, she presses a box of German chocolates into my hands.
Gradually, the other travelers gather in the lobby—people I have only known through our email correspondence so far. That correspondence was clearly taken seriously, as Walburga, a friend of Mara, proudly remarks: “I packed everything on the checklist—even eye drops.”
Soon a cheerful round of questions and answers begins: What is the best way to exchange money? How much tipping is customary? And also: How did you, Dorothee, end up living and working in Egypt for so many years as a German? We answer as best we can.
Siegfried, another traveler, eventually notes that it is by no means self-evident for them to be here in Egypt, as their average age is 80+. Naturally, each person had to decide individually whether they still felt capable of such a tour.
Each of the six travelers has their own story. All have traveled extensively; some have been to Egypt before, others not. I find myself genuinely and pleasantly surprised by the dynamic presence of everyone in the group. Many much younger people I have met did not radiate the same energy and positivity.
We could have continued chatting much longer, but now the tour guide appears, the minibus is waiting outside, and it is time for the next step into our shared adventure.
“Aren’t you taking your suitcase?” Siegfried calls after his wife Mathilde, who has already headed straight to the bus. Perhaps she sensed that her loving husband would ensure her suitcase would follow anyway.
We wave from the window—“See you again in ten days!”—and the bus disappears around the corner as my husband and I return to our daily routine.
Of course, we follow the group’s route from afar, but luckily we hear nothing at first—a sign that everything is going smoothly.
Then comes the moment when they check in on our safari boat, the Dabuka Blue, in many ways the heart of the trip.
When Mara visited last year with her grandchildren and we quickly became friends, I had told her about our beautiful boat, the magic of Lake Nasser, and the little bubbles of happiness that rise in my stomach whenever I think about it.
Inspired by that, Mara gathered her friends—among other reasons—to travel together across Lake Nasser. Egypt with Seniors – here we go.
My phone rings. One of our staff members accompanying the tour hands it to Mara, who excitedly announces that they are now on the boat.
“It’s exactly as beautiful as you said,” she exclaims. “We are being completely spoiled, the food is fantastic, and the boat is so lovingly furnished that you simply feel at home.”
“Have a wonderful journey, dear ones,” I reply, feeling deeply happy. A few days later, I receive the following guestbook entry, which—admittedly—almost brings me to tears.
“Dear Dorothee and dear Tarek,
we—Siegfried and Mathilde—have traveled to many countries over the years, beginning in Egypt with Mara and Siegfried. Now we have grown old (87 and 86). After a long interruption (the COVID epidemic and illnesses), we believed we might never travel again.
Then came your offer of this age-appropriate Egypt journey, and our hearts were ignited. We gathered courage and embarked on this wonderful trip, which revived—and even surpassed—many beautiful memories.
We met special people and, on a boat like something from One Thousand and One Nights, immersed ourselves in the world of ancient Egyptians.
It was a gift of fate at the threshold of our evening of life. Our deepest thanks to you both.
Siegfried and Mathilde.”
In moments like these, one feels that, as a tour operator, something has truly been done right.
Soon the circle closes again. A few more days in Cairo await, including a shared dinner to reflect on the journey so far.
This time, we all embrace—now feeling like friends. Even while studying the menu, questions and comments about the experiences so far keep flowing.
Yes, Abu Simbel was of course a highlight, and only casually does someone mention that Mathilde had fallen there.
“Oh,” she says, rubbing her visibly swollen hand and waving it off, “it’s not so bad—it will heal.”
I recall my time as a teacher, when even a small scratch could cause great distress among children. Older people seem far more resilient.
The conversation quickly turns back to “more important” matters. Tarek’s expertise as a Sudan specialist is in demand—after all, Abu Simbel is not far away, and some travelers had visited Sudan with Tarek 25 years
earlier. Expert discussions are welcomed.
Wolfgang appears to be the practical one in the group. He has a smartphone with internet access that can serve as a communication bridge if needed. He organizes payment for the dinner bill and later ensures the costs are divided fairly.
Walking from the hotel to the restaurant, he sets such a brisk pace that I must hurry to keep up.
“Where do these people get so much energy?” I wonder again. Perhaps it is simply a matter of attitude.
Soon it is time to say goodbye again. After dinner, we meet the group sitting in front of an empty bottle of red wine, visibly content.
“We just congratulated ourselves,” Mara says. “We had hoped for it, but none of us could be sure we would manage this tour with joy and ease—but we did.”
This achievement will surely become one of the cherished memories they take home.
“What will you do when you return?” I ask.
Mathilde and Siegfried surprise me once more: “We will visit our children and grandchildren—by car. We take turns driving every hour; it still works quite well.”
We say our heartfelt farewells. I tell Mara how unfortunate it is that we never had time for a private conversation.
“But we shared so many beautiful moments anyway,” she replies. “That is something we can be grateful for,” and she embraces me tightly.
For the last time, we leave the restaurant. Tarek and I head home, while the group looks forward to one final night at the hotel. Siegfried cheerfully waves his walking stick at us, and we laughingly point out that he is heading in the wrong direction.
But no worries—he won’t get lost. His travel companions are already waiting for him.