Jailan Halawi is awe-struck It was a Friday afternoon, the time my girlfriends and I have our usual gathering, when the idea of a three-day trip to the Bahariya Oasis popped up. Initially, I felt like going to the sea, but then the girls noted that since it was January, the weather might not be warm enough; hence Plan B. In explaining its various beauties, our desert veteran friend Injy noted that we will spend a night out in the wilderness, and that for a further taste of the desert we won't be hosted in a tent but rather wrapped in blankets in the open. Oh how exciting, I thought to myself -- although for someone who wears layers in an already well-heated room under heaps of covers in winter, sleeping in what sounded like a fridge was not necessarily what I considered fun. "I don't think I can make it," I told my friends. "You know me; I need a warm bed with a shower in the morning, and my indispensable mug of coffee. If you can do without spending the night in the desert then I might reconsider." With her usual diplomatic tact, Injy did not argue or attempt to reason with me. All she said was: "As you wish, but it's really sad when I want my friends to have fun and they insist on blocking themselves." At the time, I did not react, but her words hit the challenge button. I vowed to consider the trip a pilgrimage on which any difficulties would be conquered. The next day I told her I was in, and with a smile of someone who knows what lies ahead, she warmly welcomed my decision. PREPARATIONS: The most enjoyable aspect of this phase was my friend Sally's contagious excitement about everything. Every other minute she would call me up saying she'd discovered so and so about our destination in terms of weather, history, landmarks, etc... With only two days to go now, the two of us wrote a long to-do list on which, of course, the biggest share went to shopping. We stopped by the hypermarket -- and enjoyed the ultimate fun anyone can possibly have by trying which sleeping bag would best fit. Our list of shopping included flash lights, batteries, camera films, moisturising cream, soap, different kinds of cheese, bread and vast amounts of chocolate. Under the pretext of warming up our bodies against the cold, it was indeed the best time to eat chocolate without feeling guilty. One thing we missed, thinking we would not need it, was sun protecting lotion -- but what did we know! The night before our trip, Sally came over and we spent the hours making loads of sandwiches and packing warm trousers jackets, pullovers, socks, gloves -- you name it. For almost half an hour we struggled with zipping our loaded bags, and when we finally managed, the sight of six luggage pieces (two carry-ons, two backpacks and two sleeping bags), besides our hand bags and money belts, doubled us up in laughter. I am not sure what it was with the two of us but we were laughing non-stop. It was the excitement, I ventured, of experiencing new lands the thrill of which kept us awake all night. We did, however, manage a 15-minute snooze before our alarms went off announcing it was time to rise and shine for a trip to remember. DAY ONE -- THE LAKE AND THE PROF: We were supposed to meet Rana, Injy and their seven-year-old sons, Yassine and Hussein, at the Torguman bus station by 7.45am max, since the bus leaves at 8am sharp. When we finally managed a taxi it was already 7.20 and the driver was terribly slow, but we arrived on time and found our friends waiting in anticipation. Our destination, said Injy, was the Beshmo Lodge in the old city of Baweiti, capital of Bahariya 350km southwest of Cairo. We made it in approximately three hours with a brief stop at a rest house that, despite its primitiveness in the middle of nowhere, still offered refreshments and snacks. The toilettes, though, lacked all basic hygiene requirements. Upon arrival at the Baweiti bus station in the middle of the market, we were received by a warm and friendly smile from our guide Bakr who whisked us away in his four-wheel jeep to our hotel. We drove through narrow alleys where palm trees here and there dotted every corner. On one of the roads we saw men bathing in what transpired to be a hot water spring, of which Bahariya Oasis is famous. There was something extremely relaxing in the air, and it did not take long before we were struck with the simplicity and serenity of the place and its people. At the hotel, Bakr left us for a couple of hours to unpack and said he'd be back for an introductory tour. We were going to start with Pharaonic Egypt. On site, however, we were rather disappointed to find a museum so humble and unattended to that even the mummies were in deteriorated condition, obviously untouched by any attempt at restoration. Unlike other museums where information is posted beside the object on display, there was nothing to indicate the mummies' history except for the few words offered by the museum guard. We were told that in 1999, by mere coincidence, the valley of the golden mummies was discovered six kms into the desert. I wondered: if those on display are in such a state, what has become of the less fortunate? Our next stop was the tomb of Zed Amun Efu Ankh. To reach its insides we had to go down a very steep ladder then pass through a hole in the wall like that of the Cheops Pyramid. Once again, I decided to defy my fear. After all, if the boys can, then surely I, too, can. The colourful paintings and our guide narrating the story of the once kings of Egypt was definitely worth it. We needed to hasten our pace, though, said Bakr, in order to stop by the lake before dusk. What an awesome view. Looking at what we saw, it felt like standing on the threshold of a magic doorway, its arms flung open to reveal a green country deep within. Beyond, lay deep valleys and tall mountains, fields filled with birdsong, and hills scattered with treasures yet unseen. It simply felt like paradise, where one's soul becomes so light and joyful that you feel weightless and wish that time would grant you more to observe such beauty. At this peaceful moment you get the opportunity to cast off the veil that clouds your eyes from the pressuring pace of the city. With a breath of fresh wind, you get a glimpse of infinity that would allow your soul to reveal its secrets. It was a pity to have to leave, but then, our schedule was too long and we had to get to the hotel for an early dinner and much-needed rest. At night, our guide took Sally and I to what seemed to be a deserted café. He did not explain much, but said we were going for tea. The round bamboo tent had a primitive fireplace in the middle that was soon lit by our host who, like everyone we met, was warm and exerted all efforts to make us feel comfortable. The place showed traces of a band, and our host affirmed their imminent arrival. He said the lead singer, whom they refer to as Al-Ustaz (the Prof), will arrive at 9pm. Before the Prof's arrival members of the band gradually started appearing and, to keep us entertained, they performed local music and folk songs. Meanwhile, our host Mohamed fixed us tea on a live fire to keep us alive as the weather got colder and colder despite the layers we were wearing. In due time, the Prof surfaced and warmly welcomed us, dedicating two improvised songs for the occasion of our visit. If we did not have to wake up early the next day, we would have spent more time listening to his enchanting tunes. At night, my sleep was twice interrupted by a sudden chill. Each time I would add a layer of clothing since the hotel rooms were not heated. At that moment, the idea of spending the following night in the desert, with the sky for a roof, seemed beyond impossible and I just kept repeating to myself that tomorrow I will stay at the hotel while my friends enjoy themselves in the freezing cold of the White Desert. DAY TWO -- SINGING SILENCE: By 7am we were all up, went for breakfast and had as much coffee as time allowed before departure time. I am not sure what suddenly changed my mind from the night before, but I believe the challenging spirit that prompted me to join the trip and the beauty I had already seen ultimately weighed more than my fear. After all, a soul that experiences no pain conquers no gain. When Bakr arrived, it was 9am and we were all ready for an adventure to remember. Our multi-talented guide proved to be a one-of-a-kind off-road driver: he gave us an outstanding up-the-sand-dune, down-the-sand-dune, round-the-sand-dune drive. From a distance, driving over such gigantic sand mountains seemed impossible -- but, for Bakr, impossible meant nothing. He wholeheartedly believes it to be the bigger part of the fun -- which indeed it was for all of us, especially the boys who urged Bakr to drive "faster, faster," and show them more of his magic. During a brief stop for lunch, Bakr proceeded to fetch dry wood for the night's fire. We then drove to the new White Desert, where we parked by a rabbit- shaped limestone formation at the foot of which Bakr laid out a wind-breaking canvas shelter with cushions and blankets for our comfort before starting to prepare dinner. Meanwhile, we stood stunned by the magnificence of the moment where one cannot help but feel the grace of God in his creation. The sky was like no other as the sun was about to set. You could easily feel like you're on a different planet, where your soul takes over your mind and body and leaves you wandering in a sea of nature's infinite beauty. Looking at the rocks scattered all around, you might feel they're alive from the carvings that time has left on their face. When the sky is all that surrounds you, nature offers more of its generosity. As the sun descended, the full moon rose, shedding a silver streak on the mushroom-like rocks, reinforcing the feeling that we are definitely on a different planet. By that time, Bakr had already fixed dinner -- grilled chicken, rice and potatoes cooked on our fire of dried wood. "I just love what I'm doing" was his reply when I asked him about the secret of his delights. After dinner, we went for a walk in the moonlight and explored the power of silence as we listened while it came singing and whispering through the dunes, like a distant memory of something we once knew and now must search to remember. Amid all that indescribable beauty, you could feel the universe rushing at you in a fleeting glimpse of infinitude. Yet the sound of silence was disturbed by our human bodies that were close to freezing from the cold. It urged us to add more of the layers of clothes we had packed. Personally, I ended up with six layers of trousers and pullovers besides the camel-wool socks, gloves and ice cap I had bought at the market before we headed off. At one point, all I could see of Sally was one eye since she, too, was fully covered. Rana was too frozen to move from the sleeping bag while Injy annoyed us all by wearing layers of cotton, not wool, and remaining the warmest of us all. By midnight, our party was tightly wrapped in sleeping bags and looking like ice-cream cones. While Bakr and the boys had been fast asleep for hours, we were not about to let the moment pass without enjoying every minute of it. The toughest part of our desert experience was when nature called and complying meant forsaking the warmth of the sleeping bag was inevitable. DAY THREE -- EVERY DAY IS NEW: By dawn, I heard someone moving, which turned out to be Injy taking a picture. How spectacular it was seeing the rays of the sun flickering its colours to announce that the light of the morning star does not fade. Amidst such beauty, we had breakfast and packed for our return journey to the hotel, to the comfort of our beds and warmth of our hot showers. The rest of the day was a free tour of the village where we explored more of its charm and mingled with its people. At night, we went shopping at the close-by market for hand-embroidered galabiyas, bags and scarves, as well as dates for which Bahariya is famous, and wild-desert dried mint. It felt so comfortable to hang around a place where anywhere felt like home. People's shops are right by their homes, so if you feel like buying something but the shop is closed, the neighbouring shop owner would surely have a key and help you in. DEPARTURE -- BACK TO CIVILISATION: Up at 7am to take a final glimpse of nature's magic and enjoy the serenity of primitiveness in a land where the hands of man have not yet made its way. On our way back, we rented a micro- bus. We hardly spoke all the way to Cairo as if grasping as much silence as we can before entering the loud city. Baweiti will always be an adventure to remember, for it was there that I listened to silence, beauty, peace and happiness. They lie neither in our past nor our future, nor at any time that we of this earth can measure, but in the heart of our soul, at the centre of our being.
