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“BREAKING NEWS: Deadly bomb attack on tourist bus near Giza Pyramids”. Those were the words that ushered in my arrival to Egypt. A feeling of dread crept into my bones as I sat frozen in shock in my dimly lit room in Giza. I was suddenly hyper aware of my heart beating rapidly against my chest and that bizzare prickly sensation of sweat beginning to pool in my armpits. ‘Allahu Akbar!’, the muezzin wailed in a hauntingly beautiful voice signalling a call to the Maghrib prayer. I looked out the window and the sun was setting, casting stunning orange hues over the sky. In the distance, I could see the oldest of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World standing majestically; The Pyramids of Giza. At the thought of Giza, reality came rushing back. I, the female solo traveller who approached every travel opportunity with unbridled enthusiasm was filled with apprehension. ‘La ilaha illa Allah!’ the muezzin cried as he finished his call and with that last drawn out chant, my urge to explore Egypt grew alongside my fear. Aswan was the perfect antidote to my fear. Situated on the Nile River, the relaxed and mellow atmosphere was in stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of Cairo. It was a fertile land filled with trees and shrubbery due to its proximity to the Nile. I mingled with locals in the streets meandering slowly as though time was a foreign concept. The city of Aswan was even more fascinating to me because it was the portal into the lands of Nubia. The Nubian people are a people shrouded in mystery, believed to be one of the world’s ancient civilizations. My interest in the Nubian people was not much different than my search for the Garifuna people in Belize or the Afro-Costa Ricans in Limón. I was inexplicably drawn to people with deep bronze skin like mine, whose languages I could not speak but whose stories resonated with me. Brimming with anticipation, I hopped on a brightly coloured felucca and set sail for the Nubian village. The most vibrant shades of yellow and blue greeted me as I stepped out of the felucca. The buildings were artistically painted with a mix of geometric patterns and murals of daily life. I was greeted warmly by everyone I met and invited to check out their wares. This little village had an exquisite local feel and I welcomed its warm embrace. I spent the afternoon speaking to Hassan, one of the locals whose kind brown eyes drew me in. He was dressed in a jalabiya - a long flowy robe-like garment - as was the custom in these parts. After spending some time asking me about my travels and my experience in Egypt, he offered me some Nubian coffee. As I took my first few sips, his brown eyes swept over my face gauging my reaction to the coffee. The coffee tasted like a bouquet of spices with notes of cinnamon, cardamom and ginger. It was simultaneously rich, comforting, aromatic and energizing. Hassan and this flavourful cup of Nubian coffee was the perfect company in this idyllic village. Hassan told me captivating stories of Ancient Nubia. One of his many stories was the story of Queen Amanirenas. Amanirenas was a one-eyed Nubian queen who led an army of soldiers to curb the advancement of the Roman Empire into the ancient city of Aswan. She fought side by side with her soldiers, which was rare for a monarch and even more remarkable for a female ruler. She is said to be the bravest queen in Nubian history. I listened with rapt attention to the story of this brave woman that existed millennia before me. After saying goodbye to Hassan, I walked back to the felucca thinking about how fortunate I was to hear about Amanirenas. Each step I took towards the shore was increasingly filled with firmness of purpose to explore the world despite the fear I will inevitably feel. Women centuries before me dared to do the extraordinary and so will I.