Hawara

Listen first. Out here, at the edge of the Faiyum, the wind moves sand across hard desert ground with a dry, steady hiss. Behind you, the fields are green. In front of you rises a low, dark, crumbling mound. It does not look like the pyramids on postcards. It looks almost like a hill of packed earth. But this is a royal tomb, nearly four thousand years old, and it was once one of the most talked-about buildings in the ancient world.

This is the pyramid of Amenemhat the Third, a pharaoh of Egypt's Twelfth Dynasty. That dynasty belongs to the Middle Kingdom, a period of strong kings and large building projects, roughly in the early second millennium before the common era. Amenemhat the Third had a long reign. He also had two pyramids. His first was at Dahshur, near Cairo, and it ran into structural trouble. So he built again, here at Hawara, close to the region he clearly cared about.

Why the Faiyum? This basin is a large depression in the desert, fed by a branch of the Nile called the Bahr Yusuf. Kings of the Twelfth Dynasty invested heavily here. They worked on water control and farming land around the great lake. The crocodile god Sobek was honoured across the region. So when you stand at Hawara, you stand at the doorway between the Nile Valley and a fertile basin that these kings helped to shape.

Now look closely at the pyramid itself. The core is mud brick, not solid stone. Originally, a smooth casing of fine white limestone covered the whole surface. In later centuries, people stripped that casing away and reused the stone. Without its outer skin, the mud brick has weathered for thousands of years. That is why the shape looks so soft and slumped today. What you see is the skeleton of the monument, not its face.

Here is the first surprise. The builders knew tomb robbers would come. So they designed the inside like a puzzle. The entrance was placed on the south side, which was unusual for the time. Passages turned corners, ran into dead ends, and were blocked with heavy stone. Some routes were hidden in the ceiling. The idea was simple — confuse anyone who tried to reach the king. In the end, robbers still got in, long before modern explorers arrived.

The burial chamber at the heart of the pyramid is remarkable. It was carved from a single enormous block of hard quartzite, a dense, glittering stone, and then lowered into place. Its roof was protected by massive slabs above it. Engineers today still admire the work. Sadly, you cannot visit it. The water table in this area has risen, and the lower passages are now flooded with groundwater. The chamber sits in darkness, under water, beneath your feet.

The English archaeologist Flinders Petrie explored Hawara in the late 1880s. He worked through the flooded tunnels with great difficulty, often wading and crawling. He eventually confirmed that the pyramid belonged to Amenemhat the Third. Petrie was a careful recorder, and his work here helped to set new standards for excavation in Egypt. Much of what we know about this site begins with his notes and drawings.

Now turn your attention south of the pyramid. That flat, scattered ground once held a vast temple complex. Greek and Roman writers called it the Labyrinth. The Greek historian Herodotus visited Egypt in the fifth century before the common era. He wrote that this building was more impressive than the pyramids themselves. He described thousands of rooms, some above ground and some below, and courts connected by winding passages. Later writers, including the geographer Strabo, also described it.

Here is the second surprise. Almost nothing of that Labyrinth stands today. Over many centuries, its stone was quarried away for lime and for new buildings. What remains are fragments, foundations, and broken blocks in the sand. Scholars still debate how the building was laid out and exactly what it was for. Most see it as the king's mortuary temple, a place for rituals that kept his memory alive. Standing here, you are looking at the ghost of something ancient visitors could hardly describe.

Hawara did not stop being important after the pharaohs. Centuries later, during the Roman period, people used the area around the pyramid as a cemetery. And this is where Petrie made his most famous find. In those Roman-era graves, he uncovered mummies with painted portraits placed over their faces. These are the Faiyum mummy portraits — realistic images of real people, painted on wooden panels, many in hot wax mixed with colour.

Those faces are unforgettable. Large dark eyes. Curled hair. Gold earrings and necklaces. Young men, older women, children. They mix Egyptian burial custom with Greek and Roman painting styles, and they look strangely modern. Today, portraits from Hawara and other Faiyum sites are held in museums around the world. Here at the site itself, you will not see them on display. But this ground is where many of those faces were found.

Take a moment to notice your surroundings. The pyramid sits right at the line where desert meets cultivated land. On one side, there is pale sand and broken pottery. On the other, there are palms, canals, and the sounds of farm life — a donkey, a motorbike, a call to prayer drifting from a nearby village. That contrast is the whole story of the Faiyum. Water makes life here, and the desert keeps the dead.

The site is quiet compared with Giza or Saqqara. You may have it almost to yourself. Walk slowly, and watch where you step. The ground is uneven, and fragments of brick, stone, and pottery lie everywhere. These pieces belong to the site, so leave them where they are. The light is softest early and late in the day, when the mud brick turns warm brown and the shadows show the pyramid's worn edges.

Before you leave, look once more at that dark mound. Picture it as it was — sharp white limestone, a vast temple at its foot, priests moving through its courts. Then look at what is here now. Wind, sand, and a slumped hill of brick, with a stone chamber hidden under water inside it. As you walk back toward the green fields, listen again for that dry hiss of sand. It has been moving across this place for a very long time.