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Angie discovered Luxor by chance. “I came here on a cheap package holiday in 1997 and fell in love with the place – the traditional way of life, the friendly people and the real feeling of community,” she tells me. “Life here is sociable, based around the coffee shops, and I feel safer than in England.” Many Luxor holidays later, she left England to retire in Egypt with her husband John, but something important was missing. “I was fed up flying to Cairo every month to buy English food like cornflakes and Marmite for John,” she confessed. “I felt there was a need for that food in Luxor.”
I ask what had drawn him to Luxor. Was he an Egyptology buff? “In 11 years of living in Luxor, I haven’t visited Luxor Temple, Karnak Temple or the Valley of the Kings,” he says with undisguised pride. “I’m not here for the monuments; I’m in business for English tourists and to make money from tourism.”
At the nearby King’s Head pub, I found British flags, posters of Princess Diana, pool tables, dartboards and, most surprisingly, a young Egyptian owner. “This was Luxor’s first English-style restaurant,” says 20-year-old Shaadi Abu El-Fadl, whose father, Gomaa, opened the venue in 1994. “My father travelled to England and loved the pubs. He wanted English tourists to feel at home in Luxor,” he says, as a group of Burnley fans cheer a goal against Tottenham and Egyptians in jeans and T-shirts play pool. Bangers and mash rub shoulders with baba ghanoush on the menu and the king’s head in question belongs to a model of Pharaoh Akhenaten designed in the style of Henry VIII. Everybody here seems at ease with this blending of cultures.
BRITISH BITES More top picks if you’re craving British food in LuxorDean’s Bistro Taste of India
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Londoner Emma Levine had been looking forward to Luxor’s street markets, traditional cafés and historical treasures. So how did she end up playing darts and eating fish and chips? Welcome to southern Egypt’s Little Britain… 
“Who was the first British football manager to twice win the double?”, asks the quizmaster. Jane, Louie and I scratch our heads, shoot concerned glances at each other, and jot down the first name that seems vaguely plausible. I’m feeling befuddled, perhaps because this typically English scene isn’t taking place in London or Liverpool, but a restaurant in Luxor, and it’s 80 degrees outside. 
Over the centuries, Luxor has been no stranger to invading foreign armies. I’m sitting among the latest group of visitors to make its mark on the ancient city and struggling to find the answers to questions on English football. On these streets around Sharia Al-Rawda AlSherifa on Luxor’s East Bank, it’s easier to find Yorkshire pudding and shepherd’s pie than falafel and ful. In such a small city, the 1,000-strong British contingent is impossible to ignore. Their shops, signs and restaurants dominate parts of the city. But why are they here? There are no beaches in Luxor. There’s limited culture, no nightlife, and no employment opportunities.
A few hours before I found myself being roped into a decidedly un-Egyptian pub quiz, I’d been sipping mint tea at El Mahrosa, a traditional coffee house. While locals in galabiyyas smoked shisha and played dominoes, I was distracted by a bicycle basket stuffed full of Dairy Milk chocolate bars and Walkers crisps. It belonged to the shop next door, Arkwrights, where I found owner Angie Morris tending to shelves full of Kellogg’s cornflakes and Tetley teabags.
As I leave Arkwrights, several calèche (horse-drawn carriage) drivers approach me. “Hello madam, calèche? Very cheap price, madam.” I dismiss all offers with a weary smile and find refuge in John & John’s Restaurant, where the burly owner, John Pearce, sits by the poolside terrace chatting to a table of tourists from Blackburn. 
“I didn’t know where Egypt was when my travel agent suggested a winter holiday,” he tells me. “I’d never experienced such a culture shock before, but I took a liking to the people and their lifestyle. There’s no rat race here and the pace of life is healthier.” He explains that while he suffered heart attacks in England before his 40th birthday, he’s had no serious health problems in 11 years in Egypt. 
He opened the Tudor Rose, an English tearoom, a decade ago, and now runs this restaurant. Dishes such as cottage pie, braised steak and onions, and egg and chips head the menu. John doesn’t appear to have any regrets about leaving the UK. “England was going to the dogs – I didn’t like all the foreigners coming over. And the English are always complaining about something, not like the Egyptians.”
I wonder what this town will be like in 20 years’ time. Will everyone speak broken Arabic with an unmistakable northern English twang, or will Luxor’s British community start craving rain, wind and taxes, and return to their home country? In building an exaggerated version of their country, perhaps the Brits seek reassurance from a culture they believe is under threat at home. This thought occurs to me when I pass El Mahrosa and see the same men still playing dominoes and smoking shisha. The sense of timelessness and tradition is comforting. Men will still smoke shisha and play dominoes here in 50 years’ time. No amount of Yorkshire puddings can change that.
People flock here to enjoy the best fish and chips in town. Although his restaurant only opened last year, owner Dean Blackwell (pictured with his staff) has reservations about the growth of Little Britain. “We don’t need any more English restaurants,” he says. “We don’t want the British flags fluttering everywhere like the Costa del Sol.”
“I couldn’t bear to leave behind Indian food in the UK,” says Russell Soardes (pictured), owner of Luxor’s first Indian restaurant. Russell admits that he “ate Indian food all the time” when he lived in London. Alongside chicken tikka masala, that staple of Anglo-Indian cuisine, his menu offers the likes of roast beef and Yorkshire pudding.
Puddleduck