Time stands still at the gateway of Luxor, Humanity's oldest prayer site. On the banks of the Nile, the stifling heat makes me feel languorous. Crocodiles slide silently over the sand under the penetrating gaze of the Sphinx. I walk towards the age-old shade of the Colossus Ramesses II. The temple stones seem to vibrate in splendour and the roses sigh in the torpor. Luxor oud an oasis of roses and fruit overflowing with freshness and sensuality in the country of greatness and majesty. The marriage of wood and rose under Pharaoh's whip and sceptre.