WHERE ANCIENT AND MODERN MINGLE

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXIII, Issue 22540, 3 October 1936, Page 1 (Supplement)

WHERE ANCIENT AND MODERN MINGLE

"XOOK I Land! We're entering the Canal!" There is a sudden turning of chairs on their swivels, a rush up the companionways, and, as if by magic, the saloon is empty, deserted. Never before have the table-stewards found their time of waiting at breakfast so short. Their opinion of the Suez Canal goes up considerably. On deck, eager passengers crowd to the taffrails. The Suez Canal! That passage so famed in story! " But," exclaim astonished voices, " how narrow it is!" And indeed it seems that an, enterprising acrobat could jump from either side of the ship to the bank of the Canal. As far as the eye can see is sand, ridge after monotonous ridge of desert stretching away, to the towering vastnesses of the Attaka mountains. Yet it would seem that not even the silence of the desert can quell the human tongue. Only a few yards from the ship are some haff-dozen brightrobed Arabs, mounted on tiny donkeys in sedate single file, the rider of the last of these engaged in a heated argument with one of his kind who travels afoot—apparently the attacker, for his shrill vituperations float on the still, morning air to the ears of the amused listeners on the ship. His words are indistinct, bis meaning is abundantly clear. Clear, too, to the Arab on the little donkey, who suddenly ducks as a missile is aimed at his head, applies a birch to his steed,

Traversing the Suez Canal

By SHANDON DALE

and promptly leaves his acquaintance far behind. A town comes into view—square, sandstone buildings with oblong windows and flat roofs. A tiny, austerelooking town on the edge of limitless desert is Port Tewfik, with its tigerguarded obelisk commemorating men of the Indian Army who fell in the Great War. The history of the Canal itself is one of frustrated ambition throughout a period of nearly four thousand years. In the thirteenth century B.C. the mind of that most progressive of early kings of Egypt, Pharaoh 11., conceived the notion of constructing a waterway from the Nile to the Red Sea. For years he toiled, sacrificing the lives of uncounted slaves to his will, but died before the futility of tlie plan forced itself upon him. Long History Not for seven hundred years was such a scheme again attempted, at which time Pharaoh Neko embarked upon a similar project with * somewhat better success, in that, although he did not see the fruition of his labours, the work was not permitted to lapse, and was finally completed in 487 B.C. by the Persian monarch, Darius 1. Through the long history of the Christian ,era it was the desire of the enterprising to find some route that would serve to shorten the distance between the toiropean continent and India. Diaz, *)a Gama, Columbus, Drake—the long honour-roll stretches its length through tho years. Yet it was for an engineer, Ferdinand do Lesseps, to see that route and carve the way. Traffic regulation at Hyde Park Corner is a mere bagatelle to its counterpart in tho Canal. At intervals

along its tortuous eighty-eight miles, nre stations equipped with necessary and efficient telephonic communication. Prior to entering the Canal each ship is notified as to the time at which its entry is to take place, and the point to which it is to proceed. Series of Lakes The Canal is really a series of lakes and deepened marshes joined by narrow cuts which do not permit of vessels passing. In the lakes, however, there is abundant room, and hero it may be necessary to wait for an hour or more for the passage of smaller craft, or of vessels going in the opposite direction. The Little and Great Bitter Lakes were once huge, dry depressions, which took half a year to till with water before construction could continue. Lucky the passengers whose ship is permitted to go straight through the Canal in daylight. The journey takes twelve hours, and not once in that time does interest wane. The outposts of Geneffe, Kabaret, Deversoir Serapeum and Toussom claim attention. Here is a camel train led by one startlingly white camel; hers tiie tomb of Sheik Enedek, a shrine that is the object of veneration to innumerable pilgrims. All so old, so steeped in the history of the distant past! Yet what is this? These barbedwire entanglements are no relic of a past era. They and the trenches in the foreground mark the spot where, in 1914, the Turks made their determined, but unsuccessful, attack on the Canal. A monument erected to commemorate its defence commands the entrance to Lake Timsah, originally named because of a preponderance of crocodiles, but no»r disappointingly (to the traveller safe on an ocean liner!) devoid of these armour-plated marauders. The Canal, like all man-made contrivances, is in perpetual need of repair. This task is in the hands of the Sue/, Canal Company, who have their works and traffic department at lsmailia, a town of 25,000 inhabitants. Where Caravans Rested When Jacob and his sons undertook their long journey to Egypt, they made a halt at EI Kantara (the Bridge), some miles beyond lsmailia. It is here that caravans of old, crossing the* trackless desert from Palestine and Syria, stopped for respite from the I arduous journey. Twcnty-threo centuries ago El Kantara was destroyed by tho Persians, but was later reconstructed, and is now a modern station on the Palestine railway. Lastly comes Port Said itself, that fusion point of East and West. No sooner does the foot of tho unsuspecting traveller touch the shore than be is set upon by hordes of natives; vendors of cheap jewelry, guides, vociferous drivers of ramshackle carriages, hawkers of ambrosial Turkish delight and of dates. Beware tho dates! They are woody and tasteless, and no amount of optimistic preservation will serve to rouse them from their lethargy. The natives at Port Said are utterly different in their attitude from the charming Singalese or tho soft-voiced Maltese. Once a group of six or eight has attached itself to a visito?, there is no shaking them off. If the police choose to interfere, one's sigli of relief is short; for at the next corner the same half-dozen again appear, in no wise abashed, and their lungs all the better for the respite. The town has 100,000 inhabitants, a quarter of whom are Europeans. The easiest way to escape from the voice of what appear to be the whole seventy-five thousand accosting one in the streets is to climb into one of the precarious open carriages and drive about the town. This is undoubtedly the best way to see the native quarters, the mosques and temples, the lovely tropical gardens and the imposing statue of Do Lesseps himself.