Avenue of Sphinxes

Feel the ground first. Under your feet lies a long, straight path of sandstone slabs, warm even in the morning, worn smooth in places and rough in others. On either side, low stone figures sit in a patient line, one after another, as far as your eye can follow. Some still have faces. Some are only shapes now, softened by wind and sand. The sounds of modern Luxor drift in around them: car horns, a call to prayer, the clop of a horse carriage on a nearby street.

This is the Avenue of Sphinxes. It is a processional road that once joined two of the greatest temple complexes in ancient Egypt. At one end stands Luxor Temple, close to the Nile. At the other end lies Karnak, the vast sacred city of the god Amun. The road between them runs for close to three kilometres. For centuries, most of it was hidden under fields, houses and streets. Today, after decades of digging, you can walk much of it again.

So what exactly is a sphinx? In Egyptian art, a sphinx is a creature with the body of a lion and the head of something else. Most often the head is human, and usually it is the face of a king. The lion body speaks of strength. The royal face links that strength to the pharaoh himself. Lined up in pairs along a road, these figures acted as guardians. They marked the route as sacred ground, a path meant for the gods.

And the gods did travel this road. Every year, during the season of the Nile flood, Thebes held a great celebration called the Opet Festival. Thebes is the ancient name for the city we now call Luxor. During Opet, priests carried the statues of three gods out of Karnak. These were Amun, his wife Mut, and their son Khonsu. Each statue rode in a small sacred boat, lifted on the shoulders of priests, on the way to Luxor Temple.

Imagine the scene. Drums and clapping. Singers and dancers. Crowds pressing in to glimpse the shrines as they passed. Temple walls in Luxor show parts of this festival, with musicians, acrobats and offerings of food. For ordinary people, who could not enter the inner temples, this was a rare moment. The gods came out into the open air. The festival renewed the bond between Amun and the king, and with it, the order of the whole land.

Here is something many visitors do not expect. The sphinxes you see near Luxor Temple are not as old as the temple itself. Most of the human-headed figures along this southern stretch date to the reign of Nectanebo the First, in the fourth century before Christ. He was one of the last native Egyptian kings, ruling near the very end of the pharaonic age. Earlier rulers had built processional routes here, but Nectanebo gave the avenue much of the form we see today.

Look closely as you walk, and you will notice the sphinxes change. Near Luxor Temple, most of them have human heads. Closer to Karnak, many have the heads of rams instead. This is not a mistake or a mix of styles. The ram was a sacred animal of Amun, the great god of Karnak. As the road approached his home, the guardians took on his form. In a quiet way, the statues told travellers whose territory they were entering.

The number of figures is a second surprise. Scholars estimate that more than a thousand sphinxes once lined the full length of the road. Many are now lost. Over the centuries, stone was taken for new buildings, or statues were broken and buried. What remains is a long rhythm of bases, bodies and fragments. Some sphinxes are nearly complete. Others are only a pedestal. Together, they still give a clear sense of the original scale.

After the age of the pharaohs, the city slowly grew over the road. Sand and river mud built up. Farms, homes and streets covered the old paving. Serious excavation began in the mid-twentieth century, and work continued in stages for decades. In the early 2000s, a large project set out to uncover the full route. It was not simple. Houses and other buildings stood on top of the avenue, and clearing them caused real debate among residents.

In late 2021, Egypt reopened the full avenue with a grand televised ceremony at night. There was music, lights, and a modern parade that echoed the old Opet procession. Performers in costume walked the route between the temples, and boats appeared on the Nile. For many Egyptians, it was a proud moment. For the city, it marked a change. A road that had been buried for centuries became once again a single, open path through Luxor.

As you walk, notice how the avenue sits below the level of the modern city. In many places, today's streets and buildings stand on higher ground. You can see the difference clearly at the edges. That height gap is the layer of history that built up after antiquity. It shows how deeply the ancient road had been covered. You are walking on the surface the priests walked, while modern Luxor carries on above you.

The light here changes the stone through the day. In the early morning, the sandstone looks pale and soft, almost golden. At midday the sun is hard and flat, and shade is scarce. Late in the afternoon, long shadows stretch from each sphinx across the path, and the faces seem sharper. In the evening, near Luxor Temple, lamps light the figures from below. The same row of statues can feel calm, harsh or theatrical, depending on the hour.

Take a moment to pause beside one sphinx. Look at the paws resting forward on the base. Look at the line of the back, the curve where body meets head. A craftsman shaped this with simple tools, more than two thousand years ago. Then step back and look down the line. One figure is a sculpture. Hundreds together become a road, a ritual, an idea about how gods and kings moved through the world.

When you leave, the noise of the city will rise again around you. Cars, voices, the river breeze from the Nile. But the line of guardians stays where it has always been, pointing from one temple to the other. If you walk on toward Luxor Temple or Karnak, notice the direction you are going. You are following the same path the gods once took, on their yearly journey through the heart of Thebes.