Day 19. Wed 1st October
Dakhla Oasis
We are not as far from civilisation as we might think, for on the dot of
six the mournful call of the electronically amplified muezzin resounds
over the desert. The prospect of camping out has been my major worry for
this trip, and my fears were certainly realised when we camped at Ras Mohammed.
However, I actually slept better than I expected this time - perhaps I
could become reconditioned to sleeping on the ground after all.
Jeeps rather than camels take us back to the bedouin camp and our coach,
and we head off to the hot spring at Mut. This is like a swimming pool,
but the water is the colour and temperature of oxtail soup. Nevertheless
it is very refreshing, and the accompanying shower is also most welcome.
We drive north to visit the old town of El Kasr, a remarkable warren
of mud-brick buildings separated by covered walk-ways just two people wide.
It was built in the 11th century, when 1000-1500 people lived here, but
has been disused since the 19th century, and the ground floors of most
of the buildings are now half buried in sand. The mosque is still standing,
and the old wooden ox-driven flour mill can be seen.
Back to Mut, and a visit to the Ethnographic Museum, where Ebrahim, the
curator, who says the last word of every sentence twice twice, gives us
a guided tour tour.
On to Ahmed Hamdy's restaurant for the lunch we ordered yesterday. He is
a cheerful chap who addresses us in a mixture of English, German and Arabic,
and tells terrible jokes in all three. He also provides ice-cold lemonade
(home-made, not Schweppes) in 1.5 litre bottles, and bottles of beer insulated
in newspaper for us to take to Farafra.
After lunch we retrace our steps northward through El Quasr and onward
towards the third oasis on the list, Farafra. It transpires that Anne is
also a backgammon player, and what's more has a pocket set with her. It
is not magnetic, or equipped with any way of securing the pieces, so playing
across the aisle of a bouncing coach is a bit of a challenge, but we manage,
and she beats me soundly.
On the way we stop several times to enjoy the desert scenery and romp
in the dunes. There really is an awful lot of sand around here!
Our guide explains that there are several types of sand dune - the sword,
the crescent, the star, the whale - which can grow 20M in an hour and move
across the desert at speeds up to 25M per year.
In the nineteen thirties the explorer and Hungarian aristocrat Ladislaus
Almasy, upon whom the eponymous character portrayed in the film The
English Patient was based, did indeed discover the way to the top of
the Gikf Kebir, and the Cave of the Swimmers in Uwaynat. His is one of
many heroic stories of this great desert which, until the advent of motorised
transport, was largely unchartered because the distances between water
sources were greater than a even camel could manage. In 1874 the German
geographer Gerhard Rohlfs made a journey of 676km without being able to
water his camels. In an cliff-hanger ending worthy of the most unbelievable
Hollywood B-movie, having given himself up for dead, his expedition was
saved at the eleventh hour by a freak rainstorm. During WWII a british
member of the Desert Survey, P. A. Clayton, along with other desert enthusiasts,
formed the Long Range Desert Group, the gang loosely portrayed in The
English Patient. They spent the war patrolling the Western desert and
helping to prevent the German and Italian armies advancing into Egypt.
We arrive at the El Badwiya Hotel in Farafra at about six thirty .
Dinner is followed by a birthday cake for Sarah, but she won't disclose
which birthday it is. After dinner we retire to the roof to drink Ahmed
Hamdi's beer and watch the stars. Ann continues to beat me at backgammon.
Hmph!