2006 Egypt

24 December 2006, Sunday; camping, White Desert

What a superb day!

I had not slept well – too cold and too uncomfortable – but had obviously slept enough (Charl says he knows from all the snoring that I slept) to make the day manageable.

We were up just before sunrise and saw our site in the light for the first time. A large flat stretch of sand with the trees of the oasis just over there and the road just yonder.

When our hosts had asked last night what time we wanted to get up today and we had responded with “when we wake up”, they were clearly thrilled. And slept until after 08h00!

They had planned for us to bathe in a nearby hot spring, but when we arrived there there were several men washing their faces and one in the nude. A second spring proved dry, so we ended up in a (vacant) holiday camp. Where Charl and I were offered, by the resident caretaker, the use of a pretty grubby bathroom. Squat loo, sandy floor, broken shower (lying in the loo), no hooks on which to hang our clothes or towels. Despite which we left there cleaner than we had arrived.

After a brief stop in Bahariyya – bigger, busier and less appealing than Siwa – to see the Golden Mummies (over 100 were found by Dr Zahi Hawass in the 1990s, dating from the Graeco-Roman era) and buy supplies, we headed south into the desert. We paid too much to see the mummies – which were included on a combination ticket of other sites in which we had no interest. The mummies were oddly disturbing. Huge feet, tiny breasts, sunken features. The room in which the mummies are displayed in their glass cases (coffins) is dull and ill-lit. With not an explanatory note in sight. Pity.

…so, south into the desert. Through the Black Desert, so-called because the hills and plains are sprinkled with black stones and grit and dust from wind-eroded mountains. Sometimes so liberally that virtually none of the beautiful clean “beach” sand shows through. Then every other combination from black through sand.

We had planned a relaxed day with photo opportunities – which is what we got. We stopped to scale Crystal Mountain (hill would be more apt) and then left the road to find a lunch spot. The desert is quite stunning. We picnicked in the shadow of an outcropping (on our brightly coloured woven mat) on the edge of a pristine sandy sweep. I just love the colour of the sand. Warm and pleasing – though cool to the touch of my bare feet at this time of year.

We lunched simply on tuna with onion and lemon and a tasty salad of onion and soft feta – all wrapped in a thicker, browner pita than we have had to date, and eaten with your fingers.

Back on the road and off again for stupendous views of the White Desert to come out there on the horizon. With an exciting drop down a dune then to a lower level. And so into a wonderland of eroded shapes white against the blue desert sky. All mushrooms and mounds and columns. Ice floes adrift in a sea of tan sand and white bedrock. All something else entirely!

We set up camp while it was still light on a sandy hillock between three outcroppings of chalky white stone. Just out of sight (but not always hearing) of our nearest neighbour. (There are several other safaris out here, but not distressingly many. And not enough to diminish the vastness or loveliness of the desert terrain.)

We climbed one of the outcroppings to watch the sun set – and Charl to drink his beer purchased this morning at a restaurant in Bahariyya. Then sat and watched the sky change. The orange of the set sun improbable in the distance. Fading to peach against a pale blue sky. Which darkened to navy in which hung the new moon and the evening star. With white shapes dimly silhouetted all around. Quite unique; quite lovely.

We dined on kofta and macaroni in a delicious sauce – and chatted to Hassan about women in Bedouin (often spelt Bedwin by the Bedou) and Egyptian society.

(Islamic men can marry up to four women, but must treat each exactly the same. To the extent that each of their rooms, or houses, must be the same. Hassan will be able to choose his own wife. They do not have to marry an Islamic woman, and she does not have to convert, but she must believe in ONE God (Christian, Jewish). Bedouin women are “shy”. Previously one did not laugh and joke with girls, but now one can. Women can choose to cover their faces, but their hair must be covered. Egyptian women range from covered to mini-skirts.)

During dinner, as though our evening was not already perfect, a small pale desert fox, not in the least shy, wandered into our camp in search of food. Sniffed around the fire and came to within two metres of where we were sitting, looked us over and went on his way. (He or a friend returned in the night and had a go at the sugar which Lotvie had left out by mistake. Luckily he did not drag the packet far and was kind enough to leave some sugar for our morning tea!)

Later Hassan and Lotvie sang Bedouin songs around the fire – one or the other beating out the tune on the water canister. Charl, most uncharacteristically, got caught up in the magic of it all and added his 2c worth with:

En die eerste vers is mielie pap, mielie pap, mielie pap

En die eerste vers is mielie pap, m-i-e-l-i-e p---a---p

En die tweede vers is ook maar so…

En die derde vers is just the same…

En die eerste vers is mielie pap…

By the time he got back to “mielie pap” our two delightful companions were singing along: “mielie pap, mielie pap”. We really wished for Neil and Theresa to have been there to give them something more melodic to remember us by!