05:00 Wake up call
06:00 Breakfast
06:45 Early Check out
07:00 On our way. Today we leave Cairo and drive to Bahariya Oasis. The morning is cool with a clear hazy blue sky. We are very excited. We will be spending the next three days in the desert. None of us have ever been in the Sahara. We don’t know what to expect but we can’t wait!
On our way out of Cairo, we stop at a petrol station. Talat fills the car with juice, Gouda buys a box of mineral water. ‘For the desert’, he says. Inspecting the bottles, it turns out to be Egyptian, bottled at Siwa oasis! Both humans and cars need to be refilled at every possible opportunity to prevent mishap in the desert.
The traffic is intense for the first hour or so, before it starts to ebb away. We drive through ‘Green Valley', a new development to attract affluent people out of Cairo. Big houses, smart condos and hotel complexes. Most of them even finished. Lots of young trees. Every now and then a building project that clearly ran out of money and was abandoned. The state want to get people out of Cairo and into the surrounding area, or into rural areas like the oasis that we are going to. They employ the usual incentives - ‘cheap’ land, lifestyle, aspiration, etc. Clearly it can work, but the desert is harsh. If you decide to build, you should also decide to maintain. If you don’t maintain, the Sahara will erase all trace of it.
Gouda tells us that we will not be driving with a police escort today. This requirement did not even register with us, but Egypt is VERY serious about tourist safety. This is on account of a terrorist attack some years earlier close to the Sudanese border. Tourism is a huge part of the Egyptian economy and the powers that be decided that tourist safety would be guaranteed.
Gradually, we see more desert and less buildings. There is some low fog here, making visibility quite limited for the first couple of hours of the journey. It is very weird to watch the monochrome surroundings and then see one seemingly abandoned compound after another appear and disappear.
We drive out of the fog and into the pale yellow desert. Sand, stones, rock, and hazy blue sky as far as the eye can see. Every now and then we stop for for photos or to have a look at something we have spotted next to the road – each stop gets measured in how many cigarettes Talat can smoke in the time it takes me to take my photos. I find big chunks of petrified trees everywhere. Two meter logs of stone. I wish I knew more. We also find many interesting stones, including agate and fossils. Considering that the locals smoke as a national pastime and drink tea by the gallon, we would never have been able to get my father away from here.
We drive by dozens of oil tankers heading back to Cairo. Gouda tells us that there are oil fields in the desert and that the tankers fill up there. No pipelines. Egypt lies between Saudi Arabia and Libya, but has not been blessed with either’s crude oil reserves. Egypt has oil, but only just about enough for its own needs. It does have a lot of natural gas, much of which is exported.
The desert seems monotonous, but it also keeps on changing. It would be pebble-strewn desolation for a while, then change to sandy hills, then dunes, then flat expanses of nothingness. The only thing that is constant is the fact that there is nothing green. Not a single blade for hundreds of kilometers. This is the Western Desert: The part of the Egyptian Sahara that lies directly west of the Nile.
We stop on the very edge of the depression and I climb up a hill to have a look. Vegetation down in the valley. Even stretches of open water in the distance.
Bahariya Oasis is one of a string of oases situated in a natural depression in the Western Desert. No rain falls here, but the water table is only a few meters below the surface, in some places it bubbles up to the surface to form springs or even lakes. Bahariya Oasis has about 170 hot or cold natural springs.
Humans have lived here for at least 8,000 years and probably much longer. It was definitely under control of the pharaohs by the time of the Middle Kingdom, about 2000 BC. It was an important agricultural centre, producing vast quantities of grain, fruit and wine. During Roman times, it was one of the most important grain growing areas in the Empire. It was also an important staging post on the caravan routes through the Sahara.
As we drive on, we see less and less desert and more and more date palm plantations, interwoven and underplanted with alfalfa (PS: For the Saffas, that’s lucerne), spinach and beetroot. Everything grows here! It is mid-winter, the sun is high in the sky and the temperature is about 25C. They have a 12 month growing season with water straight from the ground.
We arrive at Bawiti, the main village in Bahariya Oasis. It is difficult to tell where farm ends and village starts. As we drive through, it is just a mass of green: Date palms, paddocks, vegetable patches. Locals going about their business. Everybody is wearing traditional dress. The woman in burkas, and the men in long tunics, often a sleeveless jacket, over trousers and the traditional scarf wrapped around the head. Traditionally the building would have been done with mud brick, but these days they build with limestone bricks which are then rendered with mud.
First stop is the Tourist Police station. All accounted for. Our host for the next few days, Rabir al Senussi, joins us and embraces Talat – its obvious that they are old friends. If he ever took up rugby, he would fill a number 4 or 5 jersey nicely. Gouda hops into the back with us while we drive over to Rabir's place.
Rabir's place is a compound some way off the main street. Gouda checks the loos. Declares them fit. Everybody out. It’s good to be able to stretch the legs again. I have hardly raised my arms for a stretch, or I am taken on a tour of the vegetable garden. Beans, spinach, mustard leaves, onions, marrows, mint and much more thrive here in the desert soil. The soil is a rich red-brown colour, clearly sandy, but also very productive – just add water.
The people of the oasis are mostly of Bedouin descent, but the oases have seen many armies and settlers come and go. Regardless of their descent, they follow the customs of the Bedouin.
We are taken into the ‘tent’ and shown our cushions and offered tea. In the old days, the Bedouin would use mobile tents. Today, the tent consists of cement anchored palm tree trunks, thatched with palm leaves, and covered with rugs. The cement floor is covered by woven carpets. It is lovely, shady, cool, with a slight breeze moving through. Ideal for weary travelers.
We take off our shoes, get rid of our gear and aim for the cushions on the floor. Clearly my mother is going to struggle with this.. Gouda quickly makes a plan, and my mother gets 3 cushions to sit on. We have barely touched the ground, or the tea arrives. Shai-bi-na-na. Tea with mint, but out here, it’s mint fresh from the garden. The tea is brewed strong and sweet. Even I like it.
A low table is moved into position and lunch arrives. It consists of a multitude of small dishes: fried Nile fish, fresh salads from the garden, dips and breads. It is very good. Bedouin custom holds that an empty dish is refilled. This leads to all kinds of issues, since our custom holds that dishes should be emptied! The food is eaten with the hands. Specifically the right hand. For the Egyptians it’s a way of life, but for me, as a lefty, it’s a challenge. I manage, but catch myself every now and then using my left hand to get a stubborn piece into my mouth. We eat more that we should, but eventually manage to send the almost empty, re-filled bowls back.
This afternoon we are going to see the desert around Bahariya, courtesy of our Land Cruiser driver and Rabir's business partner, Hussein. Everybody into the back cabin and we are off. First stop is our lodgings for the night. I have a quick look. Basic, but functional. No more 5 star until we get to Luxor.
We are taken through palm groves and alfalfa fields, across sand and up mountains. There are no roads to speak of, but Hussein clearly knows this area like the back of his hand.
The desert sand is a curious mix of pale yellow sand and black volcanic rock. If you look down, it’s yellow, but if you look into the distance, it’s black. This is the beginning of the black desert.
We spend the afternoon driving from one spot to another. We stop at hot water springs, against mountains and by a natural lake. We pass productive farms and farms that the desert is claiming back. At each stop we see a different facet of the desert around the oasis, and our hosts (Talat, Hussein and Rabir. Gouda has to do the talking) patiently park off on the desert sand and wait for us. If it looks like more than a two-smoke stop, the teapot comes out as well and some shai is brewed up.
Halfway up a mountain I spot a suspicious looking rock and give it a good bash. It splits open and reveals a fossilized leaf. Millions of years ago, this was a mangrove forest. In 1911 Ernst Stromer discovered the first of several dinosaur fossils in this area. These were all destroyed during an air raid over Munich in 1944. Then, in January 2000, the bones of the largest dinosaur ever found in Africa was discovered close by. They named it Paralititan Stromeri, or Stromer’s Coastal Giant.
We stop at Jebel Ingleezi, English Mountain, for sundown. This was a British lookout post during the First World War. From here, the captain Claud H. Williams observed and reported the movements of the local tribesmen. He was a New Zealand sheep farmer who enlisted in the British Pembroke Yeomanry and was shipped off to Egypt in 1916. Here, he was promoted to captain and attached to the Light Car Patrols. When not observing the locals, he spent his time mapping the desert. He used a compass, a Model 'T' Ford, its speedometer and a theodolite.
The result of this mapping was a top secret report, 'Report on the Military Geography of the North-Western Desert of Egypt', published in 1919, which remained classified until 1963. His group succeeded in mapping the entire north-western desert, from Cairo to Siwa Oasis in the west and Bahariya Oasis in the south.
This report, with its maps, was used by the Long Range Desert Patrol, a.k.a. 'The Desert Rats', to harass General Rommel's forces in the Second World War. Perhaps more fundamentally, it showed that a car could go where earlier only camels dared.
What remains of his lookout today is a ruin of sun-bakes stones, but it is a good spot to watch the sun setting over Bahariya Oasis. As soon as the sun goes down, the muezzins start calling the faithful to prayer in the mosques. Back at the Land Cruiser, we help our hosts finish off the last of the mint tea.
We make our way back to Rabir's tent, where we take off our shoes and enjoy endless cups of tea. We may be in The Sahara, but the 'net is up and Eli uses Gouda's laptop to send an email to the family. Gouda hauls out one of his varsity textbooks on hieroglyphics and I get an impromptu lesson.
Dinner is served. Local roast beef, salads from the garden and Egyptian bread. All washed down with shai bi-na-na.
After dinner, the tables are removed and the amplifiers, speakers and musical instruments are brought in. The tent slowly fills with guys of all ages who have come to drink tea, smoke cigarettes, listen and take part in an evening of traditional music and song. For some reason, the Bedouins do not have a shisha pipe tradition – but they all smoke cigarettes. This is the Bedouin equivalent of a night out clubbing or going down the pub – talking, drinking tea, smoking cigarettes and taking part in the music.
Rabir starts the music off on a maqrum, a double flute, and the rest of the band and onlookers join in clapping, singing and drumming. Hussein, our Land Cruiser driver, mostly leads the singing, with the rest of the guests joining in for the choruses and clapping. Sometimes they swap instruments. This is the first time I have ever seen someone play the drums, sing and smoke at the same time. The rhythm and sound is hypnotic. Circular in structure, but with a varying beat. The undulating tones of the flute draws you in, making you part of the music. Then the rising and falling chorusses draw you further in. I could sit here all night.
It is clear that the presence of women in the tent is a surprise to many of the guests. After the initial shock, they go about their business anyway and treat us with great courtesy.
Make no mistake, the wi-fi works out here, the telly is on somewhere, but the people choose to spend their time here, practicing traditional music.
The people of the Oasis have a rich musical tradition. New songs are created all the time and passed on simply by performing them. The music is also a way of sharing knowledge or social commentary. Men from all over the oasis come to these gatherings, of which Rabir's is only one, and stay 'till the small hours of the morning. This goes on seven nights a week!
At about ten o'clock the band takes break - smokes and tea, and we decide to head off to bed. My head is buzzing from all the experiences of the day. I have not yet written anything down, but we need to get to sleep because tomorrow will be a long day in the desert.
10:45 Lights out
06:00 Breakfast
06:45 Early Check out
07:00 On our way. Today we leave Cairo and drive to Bahariya Oasis. The morning is cool with a clear hazy blue sky. We are very excited. We will be spending the next three days in the desert. None of us have ever been in the Sahara. We don’t know what to expect but we can’t wait!
The day's route.
On our way out of Cairo, we stop at a petrol station. Talat fills the car with juice, Gouda buys a box of mineral water. ‘For the desert’, he says. Inspecting the bottles, it turns out to be Egyptian, bottled at Siwa oasis! Both humans and cars need to be refilled at every possible opportunity to prevent mishap in the desert.
The traffic is intense for the first hour or so, before it starts to ebb away. We drive through ‘Green Valley', a new development to attract affluent people out of Cairo. Big houses, smart condos and hotel complexes. Most of them even finished. Lots of young trees. Every now and then a building project that clearly ran out of money and was abandoned. The state want to get people out of Cairo and into the surrounding area, or into rural areas like the oasis that we are going to. They employ the usual incentives - ‘cheap’ land, lifestyle, aspiration, etc. Clearly it can work, but the desert is harsh. If you decide to build, you should also decide to maintain. If you don’t maintain, the Sahara will erase all trace of it.
Gouda tells us that we will not be driving with a police escort today. This requirement did not even register with us, but Egypt is VERY serious about tourist safety. This is on account of a terrorist attack some years earlier close to the Sudanese border. Tourism is a huge part of the Egyptian economy and the powers that be decided that tourist safety would be guaranteed.
Gradually, we see more desert and less buildings. There is some low fog here, making visibility quite limited for the first couple of hours of the journey. It is very weird to watch the monochrome surroundings and then see one seemingly abandoned compound after another appear and disappear.
We drive out of the fog and into the pale yellow desert. Sand, stones, rock, and hazy blue sky as far as the eye can see. Every now and then we stop for for photos or to have a look at something we have spotted next to the road – each stop gets measured in how many cigarettes Talat can smoke in the time it takes me to take my photos. I find big chunks of petrified trees everywhere. Two meter logs of stone. I wish I knew more. We also find many interesting stones, including agate and fossils. Considering that the locals smoke as a national pastime and drink tea by the gallon, we would never have been able to get my father away from here.
Just barely into the desert.
We drive by dozens of oil tankers heading back to Cairo. Gouda tells us that there are oil fields in the desert and that the tankers fill up there. No pipelines. Egypt lies between Saudi Arabia and Libya, but has not been blessed with either’s crude oil reserves. Egypt has oil, but only just about enough for its own needs. It does have a lot of natural gas, much of which is exported.
The desert seems monotonous, but it also keeps on changing. It would be pebble-strewn desolation for a while, then change to sandy hills, then dunes, then flat expanses of nothingness. The only thing that is constant is the fact that there is nothing green. Not a single blade for hundreds of kilometers. This is the Western Desert: The part of the Egyptian Sahara that lies directly west of the Nile.
Desert vista #1
Chuffed!
We stop on the very edge of the depression and I climb up a hill to have a look. Vegetation down in the valley. Even stretches of open water in the distance.
Bahariya Oasis is one of a string of oases situated in a natural depression in the Western Desert. No rain falls here, but the water table is only a few meters below the surface, in some places it bubbles up to the surface to form springs or even lakes. Bahariya Oasis has about 170 hot or cold natural springs.
The edge of the basin.
Humans have lived here for at least 8,000 years and probably much longer. It was definitely under control of the pharaohs by the time of the Middle Kingdom, about 2000 BC. It was an important agricultural centre, producing vast quantities of grain, fruit and wine. During Roman times, it was one of the most important grain growing areas in the Empire. It was also an important staging post on the caravan routes through the Sahara.
As we drive on, we see less and less desert and more and more date palm plantations, interwoven and underplanted with alfalfa (PS: For the Saffas, that’s lucerne), spinach and beetroot. Everything grows here! It is mid-winter, the sun is high in the sky and the temperature is about 25C. They have a 12 month growing season with water straight from the ground.
We arrive at Bawiti, the main village in Bahariya Oasis. It is difficult to tell where farm ends and village starts. As we drive through, it is just a mass of green: Date palms, paddocks, vegetable patches. Locals going about their business. Everybody is wearing traditional dress. The woman in burkas, and the men in long tunics, often a sleeveless jacket, over trousers and the traditional scarf wrapped around the head. Traditionally the building would have been done with mud brick, but these days they build with limestone bricks which are then rendered with mud.
First stop is the Tourist Police station. All accounted for. Our host for the next few days, Rabir al Senussi, joins us and embraces Talat – its obvious that they are old friends. If he ever took up rugby, he would fill a number 4 or 5 jersey nicely. Gouda hops into the back with us while we drive over to Rabir's place.
Rabir's place is a compound some way off the main street. Gouda checks the loos. Declares them fit. Everybody out. It’s good to be able to stretch the legs again. I have hardly raised my arms for a stretch, or I am taken on a tour of the vegetable garden. Beans, spinach, mustard leaves, onions, marrows, mint and much more thrive here in the desert soil. The soil is a rich red-brown colour, clearly sandy, but also very productive – just add water.
Part of Rabir's veg garden
The people of the oasis are mostly of Bedouin descent, but the oases have seen many armies and settlers come and go. Regardless of their descent, they follow the customs of the Bedouin.
We are taken into the ‘tent’ and shown our cushions and offered tea. In the old days, the Bedouin would use mobile tents. Today, the tent consists of cement anchored palm tree trunks, thatched with palm leaves, and covered with rugs. The cement floor is covered by woven carpets. It is lovely, shady, cool, with a slight breeze moving through. Ideal for weary travelers.
The roof. All parts of the palm tree is used.
We take off our shoes, get rid of our gear and aim for the cushions on the floor. Clearly my mother is going to struggle with this.. Gouda quickly makes a plan, and my mother gets 3 cushions to sit on. We have barely touched the ground, or the tea arrives. Shai-bi-na-na. Tea with mint, but out here, it’s mint fresh from the garden. The tea is brewed strong and sweet. Even I like it.
A low table is moved into position and lunch arrives. It consists of a multitude of small dishes: fried Nile fish, fresh salads from the garden, dips and breads. It is very good. Bedouin custom holds that an empty dish is refilled. This leads to all kinds of issues, since our custom holds that dishes should be emptied! The food is eaten with the hands. Specifically the right hand. For the Egyptians it’s a way of life, but for me, as a lefty, it’s a challenge. I manage, but catch myself every now and then using my left hand to get a stubborn piece into my mouth. We eat more that we should, but eventually manage to send the almost empty, re-filled bowls back.
This afternoon we are going to see the desert around Bahariya, courtesy of our Land Cruiser driver and Rabir's business partner, Hussein. Everybody into the back cabin and we are off. First stop is our lodgings for the night. I have a quick look. Basic, but functional. No more 5 star until we get to Luxor.
We are taken through palm groves and alfalfa fields, across sand and up mountains. There are no roads to speak of, but Hussein clearly knows this area like the back of his hand.
The desert sand is a curious mix of pale yellow sand and black volcanic rock. If you look down, it’s yellow, but if you look into the distance, it’s black. This is the beginning of the black desert.
The start of the Black Desert.
We spend the afternoon driving from one spot to another. We stop at hot water springs, against mountains and by a natural lake. We pass productive farms and farms that the desert is claiming back. At each stop we see a different facet of the desert around the oasis, and our hosts (Talat, Hussein and Rabir. Gouda has to do the talking) patiently park off on the desert sand and wait for us. If it looks like more than a two-smoke stop, the teapot comes out as well and some shai is brewed up.
Halfway up a mountain I spot a suspicious looking rock and give it a good bash. It splits open and reveals a fossilized leaf. Millions of years ago, this was a mangrove forest. In 1911 Ernst Stromer discovered the first of several dinosaur fossils in this area. These were all destroyed during an air raid over Munich in 1944. Then, in January 2000, the bones of the largest dinosaur ever found in Africa was discovered close by. They named it Paralititan Stromeri, or Stromer’s Coastal Giant.
We found ours up there.
Eli bringing the water bottle. Talat in the shade. Plantations in the background.
View from the top, looking towards Bawiti.
Panning right, Talat and Hussein in the shade, Mom on the rock.
A spring-fed lake in the distance.
Late afternoon shadows.
We stop at Jebel Ingleezi, English Mountain, for sundown. This was a British lookout post during the First World War. From here, the captain Claud H. Williams observed and reported the movements of the local tribesmen. He was a New Zealand sheep farmer who enlisted in the British Pembroke Yeomanry and was shipped off to Egypt in 1916. Here, he was promoted to captain and attached to the Light Car Patrols. When not observing the locals, he spent his time mapping the desert. He used a compass, a Model 'T' Ford, its speedometer and a theodolite.
The result of this mapping was a top secret report, 'Report on the Military Geography of the North-Western Desert of Egypt', published in 1919, which remained classified until 1963. His group succeeded in mapping the entire north-western desert, from Cairo to Siwa Oasis in the west and Bahariya Oasis in the south.
This report, with its maps, was used by the Long Range Desert Patrol, a.k.a. 'The Desert Rats', to harass General Rommel's forces in the Second World War. Perhaps more fundamentally, it showed that a car could go where earlier only camels dared.
What remains of his lookout today is a ruin of sun-bakes stones, but it is a good spot to watch the sun setting over Bahariya Oasis. As soon as the sun goes down, the muezzins start calling the faithful to prayer in the mosques. Back at the Land Cruiser, we help our hosts finish off the last of the mint tea.
Dusk
Sunset from the ruins.
Gouda
Back at the Land Cruiser
We make our way back to Rabir's tent, where we take off our shoes and enjoy endless cups of tea. We may be in The Sahara, but the 'net is up and Eli uses Gouda's laptop to send an email to the family. Gouda hauls out one of his varsity textbooks on hieroglyphics and I get an impromptu lesson.
Gouda has a go at trying to get some hieroglyphics into my head.
Eli sends an email from Gauda's PC
Dinner is served. Local roast beef, salads from the garden and Egyptian bread. All washed down with shai bi-na-na.
After dinner, the tables are removed and the amplifiers, speakers and musical instruments are brought in. The tent slowly fills with guys of all ages who have come to drink tea, smoke cigarettes, listen and take part in an evening of traditional music and song. For some reason, the Bedouins do not have a shisha pipe tradition – but they all smoke cigarettes. This is the Bedouin equivalent of a night out clubbing or going down the pub – talking, drinking tea, smoking cigarettes and taking part in the music.
Rabir starts the music off on a maqrum, a double flute, and the rest of the band and onlookers join in clapping, singing and drumming. Hussein, our Land Cruiser driver, mostly leads the singing, with the rest of the guests joining in for the choruses and clapping. Sometimes they swap instruments. This is the first time I have ever seen someone play the drums, sing and smoke at the same time. The rhythm and sound is hypnotic. Circular in structure, but with a varying beat. The undulating tones of the flute draws you in, making you part of the music. Then the rising and falling chorusses draw you further in. I could sit here all night.
Two drummers, Rabir on the flute, Hussein with the mic and Rabir's nephew Islam next to him.
It is clear that the presence of women in the tent is a surprise to many of the guests. After the initial shock, they go about their business anyway and treat us with great courtesy.
Make no mistake, the wi-fi works out here, the telly is on somewhere, but the people choose to spend their time here, practicing traditional music.
The people of the Oasis have a rich musical tradition. New songs are created all the time and passed on simply by performing them. The music is also a way of sharing knowledge or social commentary. Men from all over the oasis come to these gatherings, of which Rabir's is only one, and stay 'till the small hours of the morning. This goes on seven nights a week!
At about ten o'clock the band takes break - smokes and tea, and we decide to head off to bed. My head is buzzing from all the experiences of the day. I have not yet written anything down, but we need to get to sleep because tomorrow will be a long day in the desert.
10:45 Lights out
