ONE day in Aswan, while walking through a tropical park by the Nile, we saw families in traditional Arab dress - the ladies in burkas - sitting out on the grass with their children.

The youngsters ran towards us showing off or expressing fascination in the way children do and we reacted positively. The ladies smiled, the men smiled and the children waved goodbye as we strolled on.

It was an experience duplicated many times that afternoon and it was as refreshing as it was reassuring.

These were every-day Egyptians, who were spontaneously friendly, as were the many that waved to us as they passed on boats or toiled by the side of the Nile.

It was reassuring because you could be forgiven for thinking every one you meet has an angle, as if regarding each of us as a tourist milch-cow just waiting to be sucked dry. It is a standard experience for tourists east of Greece and south of Gibralta and, while it is irritating, you can become drawn into the culture and find yourself involved in bartering - fleetingly wondering why you are haggling with determination over what, after due currency exchanges, amounts to 60p.

I spotted a little boy on a donkey one day and quickly took the photo. He saw me and raised his thumb as the shutter clicked. He then signalled he wanted money.

He never took his eyes off me in the crowd and eventually he got to me. I reached for a note and made my way towards him. As I passed the note to him, other, bigger boys, tried, unsuccessfully, to snatch it from me - clearly no honour among the begging youngsters.

On occasions, having surrendered your ticket to gain admittance to a temple, you would listen to your guide and then enjoy some free time just wandering round. However, you might be accosted by a turbaned man who you assumed was watching out for would-be vandals, and he would show you the most elementary carving and put his hand out for a tip.

Smiling in return at a policeman, we were surprised when he offered to take our picture in exchange for a few notes.

On another day, in Luxor, we walked towards the market on a Sunday afternoon, only to be accosted by a succession of calesh drivers who told us it was closed and they would take us to the open market across town.

We ignored them, arriving at our destination to find it open. It transpired the calesh had been banned as impractical from riding through the narrow streets of the souk and had been instructed to drop people off at the entrance. So they had responded by telling tourists it was closed.

Yet despite hassle from a legion of hawkers and the sight of armed police here, there and everywhere, I found the entire trip an uplifting experience. I would return to Egypt happily.

I was sceptical about the holiday but fully converted by the time we had reached Luxor, which seemed remarkably fresh and clean despite it not having rained there since 1995. Leaving the train and being assigned a calesh with our luggage to take us to the boat, we were driven through the streets in early evening and, when the horse pulled up by the gangway, I was already sold on the city and the ambience.

I do confess I also scanned through the Explore brochure to see if there was a trip involving a day or two travelling by camel. I enjoyed the romance of that experience and clearly have some empathy with my wife who thought Arizona was the best experience of our Stateside holiday and believes she is drawn to arid landscapes.

Of course there were the temples - so many of them truly impressive - the tombs to admire and the cartouches to translate. There was also a visit to a Nubian village and we were fortunate to witness a sandstorm in the desert and a view of the vast man-made Aswan lake.

As for the food, well it was good, even though the meat content was lower than I would have preferred. The Egyptians seem to have come up with so many different ways of presenting vegetables and these were the, albeit enjoyable, mainstay of our meals. I even became acclimatised to having hot and cold vegetables on the same plate - a concept I found bizarre, but it works.

Many in our party enjoyed Aswan the best, but we had a little scare upon our late arrival after a walk through the streets to a temple. There seemed to be more police than elsewhere on the tour, added to which, one of our party failed to make the after-tour rendezvous. I and a few other males made our way back through the dark temple searching for the missing person, vaguely wondering if some outrage had been perpetrated.

Eventually she turned up, having waited at the wrong spot.

In some ways it was a shot across the bows - a reminder of the sad, modern-day realities among all this antiquity- but otherwise the trip was just a delight.

l Oliver Phillips is a former assistant editor of The Watford Observer who has retired to rural France.