Sands of the Sinai

BedouinNowadays, Cairo conjures up images of rebellion, bloodshed, barricades, and overall civil unrest in the city’s center known as Tahrir Square.  Not to mention military coups and the ousting of two sitting presidents in as many years.  Egypt has been through a lot in recent years resulting in an image that has been severely tarnished.

That did not used to be the case though.

The mention of Cairo once brought with it images that stuck fast in the imagination. Cairo, Egypt; the home of Alexandria’s Lighthouse, a world wonder for many centuries, pyramids, pharaohs, the sphinx, Tutankhamum, and Cleopatra; the doorway to the Sahara. It is a land of mythical stories and legends, too many to recount.

How did they build those pyramids? How did the boy pharaoh really die? Did Cleopatra bathe in milk? How did the sphinx lose its nose? 

Were there aliens involved?

Arriving in Cairo the dust and grime of the city immediately finds rest in every pore of your skin. The noise and chaos are not like that of Asia. In Asia there is an organization to the chaos, whether real or perceived. Here in Cairo it is more intense; more alarming. Almost a fore-telling of the what was to come.

My hotel, which I had booked from Eilat in Israel, was billed as one of the better budget lodgings available in the downtown area.  It was close to the massive Mogamma Building; a center for government bureaucracy, red tape, and corruption.

All of which I would encounter and be consumed by, very shortly. 

My entry into Egypt had been through the scattered graveyards of the Negev and Sinai deserts. Never before had I seen so many burned out vehicles and military detritus as was strewn about in the sands.  An image of the apocalypse; a dead and barren wasteland.

The border guards fit perfectly into this environment.  They were gruff, unfriendly, and even though I suspected untrustworthy I had nothing at the time to base that on.  They were efficient though and let’s face it, that’s all we really want from a guard at the entrance to any country that is not our own.

We drove in a small weather-beaten van through the swept orange sands of the Sinai. Not a wisp of wind in the air yet the desert, seemingly solid, was in a perpetual state of movement. You had to really look hard to see just the very top layer of sand, so fine, was constantly dancing across the landscape; up to the horizon.  A vivid blue expanse there to greet every grain.

On either side of the paved single lane road were dunes in miniature. Waiting patiently for the Saharan winds to kick up and boost their size; eventually creating mountains made up of the constantly shifting mass.

Both the road ahead and the sky above were clear; not another soul in sight.  Not a living plant or animal; just the barrenness of an arid countryside.

In that same mesmerizing instance a force began to wreak havoc.  Dust and sand were shifted with violence in our direction; whipping at the parts of our flesh that were exposed and blasting the painted panels of the van.  For each it seemed the intent was to remove the outermost layer and then dig deeper.  It became blacker than night instantly. The howling went from a distant hum to a crescendo of anger before subsiding as quickly as it began; allowing light to begin filtering through once again.

 A predicament was what you would call this.

I had never really thought of a road as a lifeline that connects point A to point B.  In most situations you would have options. A detour would be one, turning around and heading back the way you came would be another.  At the very least you would have these two but when the road you were on has been completely swallowed up, in front and behind, those two options are of little use.

My time in Egypt would render many moments of seemingly other-worldly intervention.

Like a mirage the blurred silhouette of a Bedouin tribesman began to appear; walking-stick in hand. White linen draped around his body and head having just encountered the same sand storm we had.

He was calm and looked all-knowing; completely in contrast to the guy who had been driving the van.

As he walked by, he smiled. But he kept on walking. We stood, somewhat transfixed by this man who appeared out of nowhere. Still clinging to the notion that he was purposely delivered in order to hoist us from the deserts midday clutch.

Just as his image was about to shimmer into a mirage he turned back; walking-stick raised in the air and pointing to the heavens. I want to say he was jubilant and fist pumping the sky with his wooden staff but he wasn’t. He ambled back toward us as leisurely as when he moseyed on by.

It was me and the van driver who were jubilant yet we had no real reason to be; it was all based on hope.  Knowing that we had been joined by someone who had chosen to make their home in the desert afforded us a huge degree of comfort.

The van driver and the tribesman spoke. Presumably exchanging pleasantries before getting down to the business of a desert extraction. 

As turned out to be the case in many instances, a short period of chaos and yelling ensued. Flailing gestures and unrecognizable verbal orders were  levied in my direction. It was all a big panic now and even though the reasons for such immediate action were unclear it never the less became contagious.

Seated within seconds the driver began to gun the accelerator.  With the engine screaming, the Bedouin leading, we began to hurtle towards the  newly formed sand bank that had once been our road.

Heads were mashed into the metal roof and wheels kicked up cascades of sand on both sides of us. The whine of an engine greeting defcon-5 and the continuous yelling and animation of our Egyptian guides would have certainly gone viral if captured.

Forget walking like an Egyptian; we were spinning on the Sinai…

…and we continued to spin. The nightmare for the engine was brutal but we moved ahead at a snails pace. Human effort in terms of pushing and sand swallowing gave us additional progress. Good luck and some more of that other-worldly intervention took us the rest of the way.

Half a mile might not seem like a great distance but in the desert when you don’t know in which direction you should head and nothing but sand awaits you at every angle, it’s a big deal.

The smiling leather skinned Bedouin tribesman wrapped in white cloth had pinpointed the exact place our road would resurface. He had guided our efforts and put us back on track; black tar-seal was never such a welcome sight.

We were all smiles now and the relief was palpable. When we turned to our friend from the desert he was gone; not even a mirage shimmering in the distance.

Ahead of me is Cairo, the Mogamma Building, a con-man, and a thief.

For more on this journey click on The Con Man of Cairo , The Mogamma Odyssey , The Big Baksheesh , and Felucca on the Nile.

64 thoughts on “Sands of the Sinai

  1. Nicely written. I felt like I was right there with you. The pictures are stunning. I’ve been in a baby of a sandstorm (comparatively speaking) in Las Vegas and it was no fun. Yours was major!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Great story and pictures Tim but scary as well with all those sand storms. Also I find similarities in your intro with my post on the history part of it. I hope the chaos will not let the history be lost.


  3. That sounds interesting but scary at the same time. I’m not sure what I would have done if the sandstorm had blocked the road I was driving on. I may have went the wrong direction 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  4. This was like a scene out of Lawrence of Arabia! The desert appears deceptively empty, still, and within moments, becomes alive and almost predatory. I’ll bet you were terrified! As humans, we think we can control everything – but it’s not so …

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Thank you for taking me to another place and time. I have lived in places where you could go for miles without seeing anyone but they weren’t desert and I’ve never been through a sandstorm. It would be terrifying yet clearly the Bedoin tribesman has learned to live with this. Fortunately for you he was there when you needed him.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. I really like reading this post so you have reached in Egypt now all the way from indies. I was planning to go to Egypt with my husband and few friends and when we came to know about this unrest we cancelled our program. I love all the photos of sand and I love watching sand the way it changes colors and shapes, it amaze me. But It was frightening experience and truly the people were perfect match with the roughness and harshness of weather.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Wow, what a story. That would be terrifying, but the pictures are great! We occasionally get sandstorms here in the desert and they look like a biblical plague or something out of a horror movie. It gets so dark. But at least we’re in a populated area where you can’t get lost!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. You’re right Meredith, it was the isolation after the storm more than the storm itself that lent itself to the feelings of discomfort and unfamiliarity…fish out of water kind of thing!


  8. This is an amazing post. I was riveting to the edge of my seat while reading it. You photos are fantastic. The story reminds me a bit of an experience I had on a horse in the Atacama desert with an old woman who appeared from seemingly out of nowhere, in the middle of nowhere. “We drove in a small weather-beaten van through the swept orange sands of the Sinai.” This line of yours…is a fabulous line for a poem.


  9. Just a different world from the street scenes of chaos that are probably our most recent images of Egypt. Escaping the desert a pretty straightforward problem compared to what would come along in Cairo.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Wow. That’s certainly not the kind of welcome to get from a new country! My husband and I visited Egypt for about 10 days, way back, back when it WAS safe. We had a private guide though. Truthfully if we are going to a place that is totally unknown to us, or up and down safe, that’s the only way we do it. He was wonderful and able to get us into places likely some people wouldn’t get into, because of how things are timed in those pyramids. Looking forward to part 2 Tim.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. From what I have heard about Cairo it is a very dirty and polluted city with a lot of turmoil there, so I would not choose it as a tourist destination, although Egypt seems tempting with its pyramids. Unfortunately your notes confirm what I have heard about the city.

    Liked by 1 person

  12. Okay Tim, you have my attention. Now I need to know what happened next, LOL. I can not imagine coming out on the other side of the sand storm in one piece. It is huge and looks terribly scary.. Were you none worse for the wear?

    Liked by 1 person

  13. This post was very descriptive and I felt like I was there myself with the author. I felt nervous on some parts especially when you’re being caught in the moments you don’t fully understand.

    Liked by 1 person

  14. I could look at photos of the desert for hours, we stayed at Qasr al Sarab in the empty quarter of UAE this year and it was possible to watch the sand move for hours, I must share my photos on a blog as it was stunning


  15. Great story and amazing photos. I often get complacent in my travels in the modern world and forget how we are still vulnerable to nature, despite our modern transportation and technology. I think I would have freaked out to see that sandstorm but I love that the heart of the story comes down to people showing kindness to others.

    Liked by 1 person

  16. Nice story telling…I felt I was there. First visit here. I was glancing at all the countries you’ve been to. Funny too because I’ve been to about as many but we only share about half of those in common so you’ve got stories about areas I have yet to go to which makes it fun to read.

    Liked by 1 person

  17. Tim, Very good post to the point I could feel the dust in my mouth. For me I would be so worried about my skin drying out and not having enough moisturizer. I have been to Cairo but never went on the type of adventure you did. I am glad I went so many years ago because it was before you could see condos in the background.

    Liked by 1 person

  18. The photos remind me of the documentary I watched on the Dirty 30s and the Dustbowl in Oklahoma. I’ve had friends that have traveled the world too and said Egypt was one of their favorite places. Still not so sure I’d want to go there, but interested in hearing how the rest of your trip goes.

    Liked by 1 person

  19. The sandstorms of New Mexico, Arizona and Oklahoma are nothing compared to your Egyptian experience(ies)!! I think I can forgo that (your) particular experience…but many thanks for your wonderful, realistic description.

    Liked by 2 people

  20. Interesting. I traveled all over the Sinai about 35 years ago. Magnificent, but desolate. Very old Testament.Saw and climbed partway up Jebel Musa and Mt. Sinai. I encountered Bedouin, Orthodox priests at Santa Katherina’s, Israeli soldiers and archeologists. Quite an experience.

    Liked by 1 person

  21. Hi Tim, loved reading this post, what an adventure, it seems almost like a strange dream. Good thing everything turned out fine. I’ve been to the desert a couple of times but never had to deal with a sand storm, looks really scary!

    Liked by 1 person

  22. It’s hard to remember the beautiful things about Egypt given what we see daily on the news these days. That makes these pictures even more magnificent. How lucky for you that you encountered the tribesman…you might not be writing these wonderful posts! Scary! I can’t imagine that feeling of being out there with no visible means out!

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s