From the seat of our donkeys we looked down on world- famous sites. Salesmen bearing scarabs appeared from under rocks and strolled casually up on collision courses but Casanova knew his route and brushed them aside.Finally we crested a mountain to look down on the signposted paths of the Valley of the Kings. Our donkeys were lithe, healthy beasts - although worryingly small.Quickly we trotted towards the hills, smiling bravely at passing coaches. After a mile or so we came to the defaced glares of the Colossi of Memnon and stopped for a coffee to catch our breath before heading off up a steep donkey path.Casanova only stood four foot tall with his ears up but my respect grew for his legs, locking straight in power surges as he doggedly picked his way up the slope and found a route through the mountains.

And we met Mohammed.He was a chiselled Arab in his middle sixties who convincingly claimed to have fought on our side in the Second World War, catering division. We were quickly slipped beyond the crowds and introduced to our mounts. Their names, apparently, were Casanova (for me) and Chocolate (for my wife). He planted us on a tourist boat - included in the overall price, I'd been assured - and the fat captain immediately introduced the concept of the enormous tip he was expecting on the way back.

Blanking his persistent wheedling, I looked out over the blue waters of the Nile as we chugged across.Luxor is a city divided. We had left the west bank, the city of the living, with the imposing temple of Karnak, and were heading for the city of the dead, on the east, where the painted and inscribed tombs are dug into a harsh landscape of rock and sand.The east bank didn't look especially dead: it was heaving with a tourist industry starved of tourists and it was some relief to have a guide to drag us through the touts. But at only pounds 4 a head for a day tour it hardly seemed worth bargaining. The next morning the hotelier's son took us to the river. One said "Avoid Mohammed at all costs: he is slimy and ignorant". Since half the population of Egypt seem to be share this name, the advice could have been more specific. The best way of getting to the Valley of the Kings is the way of the ancients: by donkey. The deal was sewn up within 10 minutes of our arrival in Luxor.

Our hotelier's son, laid-back and very young, produced a visitor's book, stuffed with recommendations. Almost all were fulsome in their praise, and raved about the donkey trip to the Valley of the Kings Most said "Make sure you get Mohammed". As Jack Barker explains opposite.Whether you are satisfied with a donkey ride to the Valley of the Kings or crave the sight of a whale to crown the big five land mammals, now is the moment to visit Africa Just remember to stop if you see a zebra crossing.. And has the art of prospering from visitors down to a fine piece of theatre. But tourism has been less damaging than some other forms of exploitation, and a positive force for preservation in many parts of Africa.Moving north, Egypt has enjoyed or endured tourism for centuries. And the sight of a dozen safari vehicles converging on a family of lions makes you fret about the way that the Travel Empire has conquered the Animal Kingdom.