Much of the Western Desert was once green enough to support vast tracks of cultivation, including vineyards. Jenny Jobbins checks out their traces on a slow drive from Bahariya to Farafra Click to view caption Desert travel is not just a case of getting from one oasis to another -- there are many distractions in between. No less can be expected in an area that only became so arid and empty less than 5,000 years ago, long after recorded Egyptian history began. On a wide plain only a few kilometres west of Bawiti, the main town in Bahariya Oasis, one is pulled up by the vision of a lonely tomb, a reminder that this desert was, and is, loved by many. This is the final resting-place of the retired Swiss entrepreneur René Michel, who spent the last five years of his life in Bahariya and died in 1986. Around him are the conical hills of the Black Desert, which takes its name from the pebbles of iron pyrite which lie sprinkled on the surface like burnt breadcrumbs. Ahmed Fakhri, who in the 1930s carried out one of the most comprehensive explorations to date of the oases, mentions that in those days the 185-kilometre journey from Bahariya to Farafra took four days by camel or donkey, with water wells at Al-Haiz, a day's journey from Bahariya, and again at Ain Al-Wadi, a day away from Farafra. The road to Al-Haiz was not paved until 1982; it still has no telephone line and its electricity is powered by a part-time generator. This used to be considered a separate oasis but is now classed as part of Bahariya, encircled as it is by the same sandstone cliffs that surround the whole Bahariya Depression. Through it runs the demarcation line separating the governorate of Giza and Bahariya from the New Valley governorate, and one must go through a police checkpoint -- a formality which, far from being an imposition, gives one the sense of security that comes from someone knowing where you are. Haiz is not a single place but a district, a group of farms and hamlets. It was well populated in Roman times and there are doubtless many antiquities waiting to be found. We turned left (south) from the main road to reach the ancient Church of St George and the Roman fortress of Qasr Masada, stopping at the guards' office near the church for permission -- a ticket is not necessary. Our first disappointment was that we weren't able to visit the church -- the truth was we weren't allowed anywhere near it. It stood tantalisingly distant and eventually, bored with waiting while the guards explained why we couldn't see it, I got out of the vehicle and began to walk towards it, only to be followed by shouts and whistles. I took no notice: I guessed that no one was prepared to shoot or even run after me (it being rather too hot for much exercise) so I just kept on going -- having come all this way I really was determined to have a closer look at the building. However, to keep the guards happy I stopped about 50 metres away. The church appeared to be propped up by scaffolding. It looked in a pretty sorry state, and not a bit like the photos of it in books. The Church of St George probably dates from the late 5th century, the early Coptic period of the Roman era, and was originally a two-storey, mud brick structure. The French mineralogist Frederic Cailliaud made a drawing of it in 1820: in it the four walls are standing but the roof has collapsed. The church has now been closed following a reconstruction fiasco: very recently the upper walls and roof were rebuilt but they only stood for a day or two before crashing to the ground. One suspects the church will remain closed until the wrangle is sorted out. Meanwhile, another mark is chalked up on the side of those who prefer to see ruins left in the condition that time and nature intended. To everyone's relief I turned back to the vehicle. We drove literally across the road, where we parked and walked over the sand to the Qasr Masuda, perhaps one of the most imposing of ruins in the Western Desert. This was a mud brick fortress built for a garrison of Roman soldiers to guard the trade route. Two walls still stand, and their placing shows it was originally a large structure. The ruins are on a mound which commands a stunning view of the area as far as the southern escarpment, overlooking a spectacular valley with grass-topped hummocks and scattered, ancient trees. The remaining walls tower at least 10 metres: they are dotted with niches. The floor and the mound is littered with thousands upon thousands of pottery shards of different coloured clay: red, pink, orange, grey, sand and milky-cream. There are also fragments of glazed porcelain, usually in shades of green, and some pottery decorated on the inner surface with a green or blue slip. I was content to sit here for an hour while the photographers busied themselves with their tripods. Whenever I stirred a guard followed me about two metres away watching my shards like a fox watching a beetle. When we left I carefully placed my pottery hoard among the roots of a gnarled old fig tree, a tree which may have been as old as the ruins themselves. But by this time the bored guards had returned to their hut. When the Romans were here Al-Haiz was a lot greener and more arable than it is now. The wines of Bahariya were among the best vintages, and stamps from Bahariya wine jars were found at the Pharaoh Akhenaten's capital, Armana. From the New Kingdom and through the Graeco-Roman period wine was the main export of the oasis. A sweet date wine was also made. The remains of a winemaking factory were discovered in Al- Haiz in 1988, and through this much has been learned about the local importance of this commodity. In those days the district supported a significant population of farmers and their overlords, and the foundations of some large and apparently splendid mansions were excavated in 1940 by Fakhri. Fakhri believed there was much more to find -- and most probably Pharaonic monuments as well. We had no time to see the rest of the antiquities in Al-Haiz, and instead took the Farafra road to the Crystal Mountain. This is an obligatory stop for tourists. A small natural arch in the rock and the glittering calcified crystal walls make it a perfect place to pose for photos. Crystal Mountain is what geologists call an exhumed cave, a limestone cave -- complete with stalagmites and stalactites -- that has been thrust upwards by earth movement and, with time, has lost its roof to erosion. The Crystal Mountain stands on the very edge of the White Desert, and soon the black iron droppings give way to sand-blown chalk formations which loom on either side of the road. Giant mushrooms appear: one or two have been defaced by those anxious to add their names (and easily identifies the person who dropped the odd milk carton or banana skin at the scene of the crime). But on the whole this fantastic desert is as clean and pristine as it should be. We stopped at the giant tamarisk which has stood for thousands of years on a sandy mound, and which is all that remains of a tree once twice as large -- its second trunk was destroyed by a fire lit by careless campers. A host of tiny orange butterflies hovered among the branches, and we distinguished two species of small birds, one a wagtail and one a bunting type. They twittered anxiously -- one small protective parent flew over our heads making threatening chirps and clearly believing it could drive us away. We watched as a herd of about 20 camels loped off at a distance. The weathered chalk hills were dotted now like Pavlova cakes, now like ice-cream cones or pools of cake icing. We threaded our way through a maze of peppermint drops until, just as the sun began to set, we came upon a corps de ballet in pink-tipped tutus waiting for the music to start. Here, on a wide bed of soft sand, we made camp. The full moon was already up: there was no need for candles or flashlights, and Mohamed, our driver, changed his imaginary headgear for a cook's hat and started chopping onions in light as bright as day. It stayed light for the whole night. Under the moon and stars we lay like a row of Roman mummies in our sleeping bags (for space reasons we had not brought tents), and I reached for my airline-freebie eye shades. Crystal mountains and chalk under a milky moon -- one can sometimes have too much of the lighter side of life. Practical information Approval to visit the Haiz antiquities must be obtained from the Antiquities Department booth near St George's Church. Entrance free. International Hot Spring Hotel, Bawiti. Half Board LE85.00 per person in a double room, LE95.00 single. Tel: (02) 847 2322. E-mail: [email protected]. Website: www.whitedeserttours.com Four-wheel drive vehicle with driver/cook approx. $95.00 per day/night, including camping equipment. Suggested reading The Oases of Egypt Vol 2: Bahariya and Farafra, Ahmed Fakhry, AUC Press, 1974, reprinted 1983. The Western Desert of Egypt, Cassandra Vivian, AUC Press, 2000. The Valley of the Golden Mummies, Zahi Hawass, AUC Press, 2000.
