I went on for another block or two, till my breathing slowed to normal speed. Still no sign of the river. The sun was no help; it was high overhead. I’d have to ask someone for directions. Luxor was a good-sized town, I could go on wandering in circles for hours, and I was in a hurry. Finally I saw what appeared to be a gas station, or rather two gas pumps and a shack roofed with rusty tin. A few men wearing T-shirts and jeans were lounging against the pumps.

I sidled up to them. ‘Corniche de Nil?’ I said hopefully.

I got a pointing finger and a spate of Arabic, including what sounded like an improper suggestion. I said ‘Thank you,’ and turned down the street the finger had indicated. I had to ask twice more before I saw an open space and a gleam of water ahead.

I had found the river and the corniche and, a short distance away, a familiar tumble of pylons and columns – Karnak. But I was still a long way from my destination; I was tired and thirsty and I didn’t have a piastre in my pocket.

I accosted the first tourists I met – a middle-aged couple strung with cameras, binoculars, and the other unmistakeable stigma of the breed. He was wearing walking shorts and a shirt printed with sphinxes and palm trees; she was reading from her Baedeker.

There is no better way of getting money from people than by appealing to their prejudices. Tourists in Third World countries expect to be mugged, though from what I had heard that was more likely to happen in New York and Washington than in Cairo, not to mention Luxor. My appearance certainly substantiated the pathetic story I told.

They wanted me to go to the police. I applied the handkerchief the kindly lady had given me to my eyes. ‘No, no, I can’t face it! I’ve got to get back to the hotel right away, my husband will be worried sick, I was supposed to meet him an hour ago, he warned me not to go off alone . . . There was a man . . .’

I got into the cab with ten pounds and the guy’s business card. I had every intention of paying him back, and I would have too, if I hadn’t lost the card.

The driver let me out some distance from the house. After I had paid him I was broke again; I suspected he had overcharged me, but I didn’t feel like arguing with him. The river glittered in the sunlight and the sky was a pale clear blue. I walked slowly, trying to figure out my next move.