Karnak Temple Complex

Start with your feet. The ground here is packed earth and worn sandstone, warm even in the early morning, and fine dust rises with every step. Ahead of you, a double row of stone rams rests in the light. Each one is crouched, with curled horns, and many hold a small figure of a king tucked between their front legs. Behind them stands a wall of stone so wide it seems to block the sky. You are at the entrance to Karnak, on the east bank of the Nile in Luxor.

The ancient Egyptians called this place Ipet-isut. That name is usually translated as "the most select of places." In those days the city here was Thebes, for long periods the religious heart of Egypt. Karnak was the home of Amun, a god whose name means "the hidden one." Over time he was joined with the sun god Ra, and he became Amun-Ra, king of the gods. This complex was his house on earth, and the priests treated it exactly like a house. Every day they woke him, washed him, dressed him, and fed him.

Here is the first thing many visitors miss. Karnak was not built by one king, or by one dynasty. Building, rebuilding, and adding went on for roughly two thousand years, from the Middle Kingdom into the age of the Ptolemies, the Greek-speaking rulers who came after Alexander the Great. Pharaoh after pharaoh added a gateway, a hall, or a shrine. Each one wanted his name on the house of the god. So when you walk deeper into the complex, you are also walking backwards through time.

Look up at the great gateway in front of you. This type of massive gate is called a pylon. To the Egyptians, its two towers echoed the hieroglyph for the horizon, the place where the sun rises between two hills. This first pylon is the youngest of the main gates, and it was never finished. The surface is still rough and undecorated. Walk through it and look at the inner face on your right side. There you can still see the remains of a mud-brick ramp. Builders may have used ramps like this one to raise the stone blocks.

Now you enter the great forecourt, open to the sky. On your right is a small temple built by Ramesses the Third. Its entrance is guarded by tall statues of the king himself. On your left is a shrine for sacred boats. This matters, because the gods of Karnak travelled by boat. During festivals, priests carried the statue of Amun in a gilded boat on their shoulders. Crowds lined the route, hoping for a glimpse or a sign from the god.

And then... the Hypostyle Hall. A hypostyle hall is simply a hall with a roof held up by columns. But this one is different in scale. It holds 134 columns, packed so closely that it feels like walking through a stone forest. The twelve central columns are the tallest, rising more than twenty metres. Their tops open out like papyrus flowers in bloom. The shorter columns on either side end in closed buds. The whole hall was a picture in stone of the marsh where creation began.

The hall is mostly the work of two kings, Seti the First and his son, Ramesses the Second. Look closely at the carvings, and you may notice two different styles. Some reliefs are raised, standing out from the surface. Others are sunk into the stone, cut deep. Sunk relief holds sharp shadows in strong sunlight, and it is also harder to erase. Kings knew that their successors sometimes recarved older names. A deep cut was a kind of insurance.

Now look high up, near the tops of the columns and on the stone beams overhead. In places the original paint survives — blues, reds, and yellows, faded but still clear after thousands of years. Above the central aisle, high on the walls, you may spot stone window grilles. These let in thin bars of light while keeping the hall dim. Imagine the roof complete and the room in deep shade, with incense smoke drifting through those narrow shafts of sun.

Lower down, on some columns, you may find something more recent. Travellers in the nineteenth century often carved their names and dates into ancient monuments. A few of those signatures are still visible here. They are a second layer of history, scratched by visitors who also stood where you stand now and felt the need to leave a mark.

Keep walking east, and you reach the obelisks. One of them belonged to Hatshepsut, one of the few women to rule Egypt as pharaoh. It is a single piece of pink granite, cut in quarries far to the south at Aswan and brought here on the river. It is among the tallest ancient obelisks still standing in Egypt. Later, another ruler built walls around the base of her obelisks, hiding the lower parts from view. Historians still debate the reasons. One surprising result is that the hidden stone stayed protected from weather.

Further east is a hall built by Thutmose the Third, the pharaoh who followed Hatshepsut. In one of its rooms, the walls carry carvings of plants and animals. Scholars often call it the botanical garden. The king is thought to have brought back these images from his military campaigns in foreign lands. You can find unfamiliar flowers, unusual birds, and strange leaves. It is a kind of ancient field notebook, carved in stone instead of written on paper.

To the south of the main temple lies the sacred lake. Its rectangular stone banks still hold water. Priests are believed to have purified themselves here before their duties inside the temple. Near the lake sits a large stone scarab beetle on a tall base. For the Egyptians, the scarab was a symbol of the rising sun and of rebirth. Today, locals say that if you walk around the scarab several times, you will have good luck. Sometimes the number is seven, sometimes it is a wish for marriage. This is a modern tradition, not an ancient one... but you will see many people doing it.

Karnak was never alone. A long avenue of sphinxes once linked it to Luxor Temple, about three kilometres to the south. In recent years this route was excavated and opened again for walking. Each year, during the Opet Festival, the statue of Amun travelled from here to Luxor Temple. Crowds, music, and offerings followed it. This ancient city was built around journeys like that one, between temples and across the river.

Before you leave, stand still for a moment. Listen to the sounds around you — footsteps on the stone, the voices of guides in a dozen languages, birds high up on the columns. Notice the shadows moving across the carvings as the sun climbs. The priests are gone, and so is the roof. But the stone remains, and people still come here to look up. As you walk back through the great gate, turn around once and see how small the doorway makes you feel.