Ankh
Carried by gods and kings, the looped cross signified life itself and the breath given to the living and the dead.
The meaning behind the monuments — the gods and symbols carved into every wall, and the crafts still made by hand today.
Six emblems you will meet again and again across Egypt's temples and tombs — and what they meant to the people who carved them.
Carried by gods and kings, the looped cross signified life itself and the breath given to the living and the dead.
The wedjat eye, restored after Horus lost it to Set, became Egypt's great emblem of healing, protection and royal power.
The dung beetle rolling its ball mirrored the sun god pushing the sun across the sky — a daily emblem of renewal and rebirth.
The jackal-headed god of embalming and the necropolis, who weighed the heart of the deceased against the feather of truth.
The sky god whose right eye was the sun and left the moon; every living pharaoh ruled as the earthly embodiment of Horus.
The blue lotus closing at night and opening at dawn became a symbol of creation, the sun's daily rebirth and Upper Egypt itself.
Egypt's heritage is not only in its museums. In workshops from Cairo to Aswan, artisans keep alive crafts that reach back centuries — colour, pattern and sound passed from one generation to the next.
The hand-appliquéd textiles of Cairo's Street of the Tentmakers, stitched in geometric and pharaonic motifs.
Luxor's artisans turn and polish translucent Egyptian alabaster into vessels and lamps, as their forebears did for the tombs.
The bright, geometric beadwork and basketry of the Nubian south, carrying colour and pattern down the generations.
The lute-like oud and the goblet-shaped tabla drum, the twin voices of Egyptian music from village wedding to concert hall.
Tell us your dates and what draws you — we design a private itinerary end to end.