Travel: Activity breaks - death on the Nile

The Telegraph (Drusilla Beyfus)

My thought was to explore the painted tombs of ancient Egypt, travelling to my destination in a manner that made one exceptionally glad the afterlife was on hold. I had long hankered after the sight of the paintings, an exquisitely coded language that invited exploration, and then a bonus was the aspect of revealed riches that had for so long thwarted attempts at discovery, a history that appealed to the Treasure Island side of my tastes.

Underneath, I hoped for a revelation of the ancient's approach to mortality and the eternal life, as I can't help but believe that the modern take on last rites suffers from a lack of spirituality. . . .

First glimpse of my objective was at the Valley of the Kings, probably the most popular location for tomb-watching in Egypt. We arrived by tour bus at the towering sandstone cliff face of the Theban Hills, pitted with trap-like apertures that hinted at their history of secrecy.

Each entrance is marked by a modest board with the name of the ruler and a number. Had the interred been a prisoner, the style would have been appropriate. Another un­expected experience was getting inside the tombs in question.

I had imagined creeping down perilous steps in the darkness, flashing a small handheld torch to show the way, but in the majority of the sites I visited it was impossible to imagine being an amateur archaeologist bent on unearthing discoveries - convenient access had been laid on and torchlight (like photography) as a rule was prohibited on the grounds of protecting the paintings.

Descending flights of steps into the gloaming of one of the major tombs, that of Ramses IV (1140-1123bc), you are engulfed by phantasmagorical murals from floor to ceiling. They show myriad subjects; likenesses of the departed ruler, and a visual menu of what he considered necessary to ensure a safe passage in the afterworld - a form of protection against a bad trip.

It goes without saying that bigwig deities such as Horus are seen diplomatically to outshine depictions of the once living. To say the paintings fulfilled expectations is only half of it. I won't forget the solar barques bearing crocodiles and other strange cargo, or a ceiling adorned with a pair of sky goddesses stretched out against a sky of a blue so deep and resonant that it seems to have wholly escaped the palette of subsequent artists.

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