Cairo’s Houseboats: From History and Heritage to Bitter Goodbyes
Kenzy Fahmy
The last of Cairo’s houseboats have been demolished or towed away this week, taking with them an important and iconic part of the city’s architectural and cultural heritage. Egyptian civilization has grown and flourished along the fertile banks of the river. For thousands of years, the Nile has been the lifeblood of the country, its beating heart, and for thousands of years, people have been using its banks to anchor their floating homes and secluded getaways. But the Egyptian houseboat is now too a thing of the past.
Cairo, a city aptly named after a god of war, has an undeniably chaotic energy. Finding solitary moments of peace and quiet can be a challenge, to say the least, and in such a fast-paced city it can be near impossible to slow down. The Nile offers a rare respite from all the madness of the city. Just a few meters from some of Cairo’s busiest (and noisiest) streets is a surprisingly serene world, detached enough from the hustle and bustle to allow you the space to breathe, but still close enough to watch it all rush by.
It’s not surprising that Cairo’s residents have for decades taken to the Nile in order to escape the ceaseless churning and pervasive prying eyes of the city. In a city that never rests, and a society that is as tightly-knit as they come, peace and privacy are a hard currency to come by and the houseboats that line the banks of the Nile are of the very few places that can offer both, right in the heart of the city.
Their origins can be traced back to ancient times when dahabiya-like vessels were used to travel along the Nile like floating palaces. Cleopatra was said to have entertained her lovers on a houseboat; clearly the idea of finding seclusion and privacy on the Nile is not a new one. When Napoleon embarked on his conquest of Egypt, his officers chose to live long the banks of the Nile. By the 19th century, the dahabiya, a cross between a felucca and a houseboat, was the main mode of transport for those travelling through Egypt, offering all the amenities of a home while exploring the country over the course of weeks or even months. And it was from these dahabiyas that our modern houseboats were born.
Many of the houseboats that once lined the river banks were built around the late 1800s to early 1900s, and have since then been at the heart of so much of the city’s history. They have been home to intellectuals, artists, aristocrats and outcasts alike. They carried the stories of this city’s tumultuous past, as well as its present, and even its future.
During WWII it was the British army’s officers who chose the houseboats as their preferred residence while in Egypt. Count Lazlo Almasy, the Hungarian pilot and desert explorer, was also said to have resided on a houseboat for some time. Rumor has it that he hid two German spies who with the help of a famous belly dancer were able to obtain information from the British officers.
Two decades later it was Naguib Mahfouz who used the houseboat as the setting for his novel “Adrift of the Nile”, telling the story of a country going through painful growth spurts, a country struggling with its identity, morality and the rise of nationalism.
In their heyday, the houseboats numbered roughly 300. By the mid-20th century, they had been reduced to around 30, confined to the shores of Kit Kat overlooking the island of Zamalek. Today, the houseboats have all vanished, swept away by a wave of ‘modern’ development and commercialization. Their residents suddenly evicted and the heritage that they held gone forever. It’s up to us now to remember them, to preserve their memories and stories in any way we can.