The Golden Death mask is one of the world's most recognisable faces, but it wasn't always so. Photo / File
100 years ago a group of grave robbers unleashed something that lay undisturbed for 3245 years:
The name of Tutankhamun.
If you've heard of one Pharaoh it's likely this boy king. The golden funeral mask is one of the most recognisable faces in the world. Of the 9 million annual tourists that visited Egypt pre-pandemic, he is at least partly responsible.
But he wasn't always a superstar.
On 4 November 1922, Howard Carter had no idea of the significance of the burial he was disturbing.
"Darkness and blank space, as far as an iron testing-rod could reach, showed that whatever lay beyond was empty… I inserted the candle and peered in… As my eyes grew accustomed to the light, details of the room within emerged slowly from the mist. Strange animals, statues, and gold. Everywhere, the glint of gold."
The excavations that happened exactly a century ago this month uncovered more than treasure but also an ancient mystery.
He had broken into a tomb that would change the way we see Egypt. That glinting pile was a treasure trove of 5398 precious objects.
The most precious being that sarcophagus. In his memoirs Carter recalled being the first living being to see his face:
The "golden mask of sad but tranquil expression," bearing a "god's attributes", he wrote.
And there was a curse? They all died of a curse, right?
It's fair to say there were some strange goings on and some misfortunes surrounding those on that first entry into the tomb. However, these probably had more to do with the life-choices of people breaking into tombs and early 20th century medicine rather than supernatural powers from beyond the sarcophagus.
Lord Carnarvon - the financial backer of the expedition - died of a mosquito bite just four months after the tomb was opened. Carter's secretary was murdered in a London club - probably not by a mummy. Howard Carter's death a full healthy 16 years later was eyed with suspicion, too.
Tomb curses were a very real thing. At least so far as Egyptian tomb builders would write them inside the buildings.
In the necropolis of Saqqara the 160 tombs are covered with all sorts of colourful curses.
"If the tomb is entered by an impure person, then may the council of the gods punish the trespasser, and wring his or her neck like that of a goose," reads one.
Curse stones and tablets would be buried with mummies.
One such 3000-year-old inscription from Sheikh Abd el-Qurna contains the warning that those entering the tomb "beware not to take even a pebble from within it outside" or the "Great lords of the west will reproach him very very very very very very very very much."
The fact that this tablet was removed and is now in Scotland's national museum in Edinburgh, means that they probably have little effect.
No such tablets were recorded in Tutankhamun's tomb.
Despite this "King Tut's Curse" became the stuff of legend.
Some used a "curse" to explain why the tomb was undisturbed for so long.
The greatest discovery in the Valley of the Kings in living memory, the real reason nobody found their way into the tomb was far more disappointing.
Tutankhamun was not disturbed because grave robbers respected his power, he was undisturbed because nobody knew he was there. A sickly teenage king, dead before his 17th birthday he was largely forgotten. His tomb treasures are now thought to have been meagre compared to those of his more successful royal relatives.
Ironically he is now the most famous pharaoh known today.
By Christmas 1922, Tut was the toast of Egypt and later America.
Harry Von Tilzer and William Jerome composed a vaudeville hit Old King Tut:
"Hey mister, Can you tell me where King Toot-Toot-and-Come-In's tomb is?" rings out the novelty track. It's hardly a royal ode, fit for a Pharaoh.
King Tut became a novelty. The discovery inspired clothing, film and a sort of Egyptmania in the 20s and 30s. There was even a dance the - King Tut Shimmy.
Travelling around the world as a touring exhibit, the boy king didn't find much respect but he did command a royal crowd of attendees. Tutankhamun's stint at the British Museum in 1972 drew 1.6 million visitors - making it the most popular exhibit ever.
Now Tutankhamun has finally found his way home.
Finally, after a two-year pandemic which has plagued Egypt's tourism industry he has found a permanent home at the Grand Egyptian Museum in Giza.
After numerous delays the new national Museum is set to open its doors later this year.
The forgotten boy king is now the country's most precious tourist attraction. Quite a reversal in fortunes for King Tut.
When there's nothing as far as the eye can see, you may appreciate the company.