The other side of the desert
(See the galleries for our Western Oases pics.)
The road from Cairo took us, via the bus, across to the most northern Western Oasis town of Bahariya. I was recovering from a cold (not paint-fume induced sniffles as first thought) and Vic was just at the start of the same ailment. We spent a couple of days straightening the kinks from our mudguards - courtesy of the luggage loader on the bus - as well as buying the water and scouring a conservative Muslim town for alcohol to burn in our stove.
When the day finally dawned for our 180km ride across the Black and White deserts it found us in high spirits and confident mood which even the blazing sun couldn't evaporate. Yet... The Baharia - Farafra road is a fairly busy one with commercial vehicles making up the bulk of the early traffic and safari tours taking over towards lunchtime. Whatever the vehicle, they all gave us a toot and a wave. One guy in a pick-up truck even stopped, 3-point turned and gave us a big handful of dates! It was great feeling that people were looking out for us and keen to know what we were doing.
The breeze was at our backs and our legs felt no ill effects from drag racing the locals on our way home the night before! The Black Desert is so named for the dark dusting which is sprinkled over the more conventional yellow-coloured sand, making the hills look like slightly singed caramel desserts.
Onward we rode and had 40 kms under our belts before our first attempt at a lunch stop. In the comfort of the hotel we'd decided to put the tent up at 12ish and snooze until the day got cooler but the constant breeze, lack of suitable tent pegs and general wind-catching properties of a huge sheet of nylon made it impossible. From my vantage point on the crest of a tiny bank I proclaimed that I could see trees in the distance. (Being still within the confines of the oasis this wasn't as deranged as it may sound.) Victoria was skeptical but humoured me. In what goes down as a rare triumph for yours truly the trees and, incredibly, a couple of buildings duly arrived not 5kms down the road. We had stumbled on Baharia's ambulance station, which must be pretty busy looking after camels with twisted ankles but little else. The trees and shade were soon honoured with two napping cyclists.
Our afternoon session took us rather gallingly past a cafeteria which could have sold us some of the water we had dragged this far. But never mind. With 50-odd kilometers on the clock and sundown approaching it was time to find and out of the way spot for the night. The plan was see a secluded nook, haul the bikes into and lay low until it got dark. We were probably being a bit overcautious but didn't necessarily want to advertise where we were sleeping to any passers-by. As if by magic, a cluster of trees and small dunes approached only 30 metres from the road. The clear road. Like a flash we were pushing the bikes across the soft sand, sand which really didn't make it easy for us. As if by magic the traffic started up again and we could tell from the toots we'd been spotted. We pondered what to do but the decision was made for us when one pick-up truck stopped up the road. Time to move on. As we passed him he asked if we were going to sleep there and I made the universal "dodgy tum" sign. He offered to take us to a hotel but we declined and kept moving.
Darkness was fast approaching by now and the desert flattened out. Fifteen minutes passed before we came across a couple of sandy mounds that fitted the bill. The road had been clear for ages so we set about the task of dragging the bikes to safety. Predictably, this was the signal for cars to approach from all angles but this time we made it in time. We made a quick meal of sand, corned beef, eggs and sand before tucking in under the stars. I slept with one eye and ear trained on the road for a couple of hours before finally dropping off. The next we knew we were waking up covered in a heavy dew.
Soon after we got up we realised we had problems... Perhaps fate had seen my dodgy tum mime. Maybe I'm allergic to sand. Whatever the reason, things were looking bad for us doing 2 more days in the desert. We battled on a few kilometers more before taking advantage of a rare bit of shade and settling in to wait for rescue. We didn't have long to wait. First Said and Mahar stopped to chat, give us water and breakfast but sadly not a lift as they were heading the wrong way. The next passers-by were Sophy and Suliman who were heading to Farafra and soon had us loaded in the back of their pick-up. They wouldn't hear of accepting anything for their kindness and even ended up buying us drinks a couple of nights later as we sat up till 2am chatting. (It turned out they were staying at our hotel.)
We can't say we failed as we had a fantastic day's ride and a night under the stars but it was sad that we weren't able to accomplish what we set out to. Still, our desire to cycle has been reignited after so many weeks of trains and buses. All we need now is a bit of luck and towns that are closer together!
