From the Black Desert to the White Desert. We leave the Bedouin Oasis Camp and in the next 50 km we witness a remarkable transformation in the desert. Somewhere she has decided to put on another face – this time a white face! The black lava stained stones and rocks are replaced by pure white limestone rock formations to create a marble white rock garden of mushrooms, statues, profiles, silhouettes arranged as far as the eye can see.

We enjoy a tuna salad in the company of these white stone-faced onlookers…Andrej shifts in behind the wheel of the 4x4 and drives to the exit of the Park.

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We find a camping spot in a Bedouin camp where we are invited to a Bedouin Festival after dinner. We sit, Bedouin style on carpets, around a fireplace and are served sweet, black tea while several Bedouin men entertain us with traditional music and singing. All 4 of us are dead tired and we only last for ½ hour when we crawl into our tents.

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We are in the car, trying to exit the city and we are in stuck in crazy traffic – synonymous with Cairo. The city is over-saturated with wheels – 1 wheel – barrows horse-donkey- or human drawn; 2 wheels motorbikes; horse or donkey drawn carts; 3 wheels tuk-tuks; 4 wheels cars, trucks; 6+ wheels – heavy vehicles; running on totally insufficient supply of roads causing congestion morning, noon, night – 24/7. Impressive is the acceptance and patience of the people with the dilemma. On a few occasions have I seen a flare-up of tempers – it seems as if their outlet for the congestion frustration is through the incessant honking of horns and even that has become a sound of music as honks run through different do-re-me creations.

 I wish I could share this traffic experience with you. I’ve tried to video some of this and when I figure the posting of videos out I will. Words cannot do it justice, but I want to try to tell you what is happening right now:

-          A truck with 2 cows, not tied, swinging and swaying in all directions, trying desperately not to lose their balance – I mean the cows!      

-          Brightly colored fruit stalls line the road

-          Pyramids of deep green watermelons sliced in mouth-watering red-pink halves

-          Silhouettes of the 3 Giza pyramids – majestically gazing through the ages as they guard the mysteries of then and now

-          Tiny stalls selling tea on the go to the moving traffic

-           A dirt-streaked little face in a frame of loose, unruly dark curls suddenly appears in the window asking Hugo for some of his chips! My heart missed a beat as I watch this itty-bitty maybe 4 yr skillfully weaves through the moving, honking fume-spewing traffic.

-          Little trucks top heavy with bags, onions, green produce, rubble, sand maneuver with purpose to their destination. I have no idea why it does not topple over…I think Egyptians’ ancient skill of construction is transferred to anything rising up from the ground - whether buildings, cars, fruit, even trash;

-          Buses and minivans chock full with people on their way to visit family, go for picnics – relax, before the craziness of a new weeks starts tomorrow.

-           (We have just witnessed the most bizarre scene – congestion which we thought normal and then before we could see it the overpowering smell of gasoline and the next moment a truck from which gasoline is pouring. People running to fill buckets from the pouring gasoline waterfall. The road is soaked – imagine someone not knowing light a cigarette – it will be an explosion unable to describe. Hugo, “this is probably the most dangerous thing I’ve seen in my life.” A safe distance from the gasoline pouring truck – a fire engine!)

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There is nothing we can do in Cairo in regards to our visas anymore. We will not know what the status of our Sudanese visas are before Sunday when we have to call Mr Muhammed Musa from the USA embassy in Khartoum. We are on our way to the Bahariyya Oasis in the Black Desert. The Western (Libyan) Desert starts on the banks of the Nile and continues into Libya (WHERE WE DO NOT WANT TO GO RIGHT NOW!) covering 2.8 million sq km. There are 5 major oases in the desert of which Bahariyya is one.

We drive through the Black Desert – dunes and sand formations as far as the eye can see mottled with small black, looking like lava stones. After hours of barren desert a vast lush green valley unexpectedly appears in the desert.  The change in scenery and vegetation is stark and striking. As we came closer we see birds, cows grazing, spread-out agricultural fields, different kind of trees with date palm trees guarding the green lushness.  For the first time in my life I understand what is meant by the word oasis.

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We find Eden Garden Bedouin camp and it is obvious that there is no lack of water at all. Hot springs are everywhere and in Eden Camp a swimming pool is fed by one of these springs and the water is almost uncomfortably hot. After a week of dusty camping in Cairo this is truly an oasis for all 4 of us. We cannot wait to get into the pool and once in we are catching up on 8 weeks of hot baths that we have missed out on.

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We leave our campsite at 7:30 – quite remarkable for us to get ourselves organized this early. We are going to Alexandria to visit with good friends of ours. It is a 2 ½ hour drive on a good highway and it is not busy at all, because it is “Sunday” in the Muslim world. Alexandria has a very different feel than Cairo – why…? I think the ocean makes a difference; the roads are congested but not stuffed and bursting out of asphalt as in Cairo and to be fair to Cairo – it is “Sunday” which makes quite a difference. I know I talk and write about traffic and cars all the time (it is like the British who talk about the weather), but it is a deciding and determining factor of life in Egypt’s cities. Something else I’ve not even thought to mention until Andrej referred to it this morning is how ridiculously cheap gas is  - 1 Egyptian pound\litre: that is 1 divided by 8 = +/- 13 cent/litre compared to euro 1,35/litre in Europe. So, it basically costs virtually nothing to fill up – so why not have wheels? I think it is more difficult to fill up your horse or donkey with fodder than your car!

Our friend, Medhat, meets us and takes us to their apartment. I have very fond and unforgettable memories of my previous visit to their apartment which was also my first visit to the Middle East during the month of Ramadan. It was from Medhat and Samia’s apartment balcony that I watched the festivity explode in the street below after the boom announced the breaking of the fast! There was something magically fascinating as family and friends gathered in the streets sharing food and drink; children were running around – laughing, yelling, playing and fighting with one another; groups of young teenage girls were giggling about their secrets; teenage boys were playing soccer or playing Mr. Handsome around the girls. The streets are full of people and the activity last till the early morning hours when they enjoy their last meal before the fast starts at s again at sunrise.

Samia was my unofficial Arabic language teacher – my “moderissa” and we had many good laughs between her English and my Arabic, but our friendship spoke the language of the heart and seeing them again after almost 3 years confirmed that. They lavish us with their hospitality and we share the most excellent fish dinner with them. Our visit coincides with a very special community event organized by leaders from the surrounding mosques, Coptic (Orthodox) and Protestant Churches to demonstrate their solidarity and acceptance of one another, especially after the bomb explosion in a Coptic Church in January and the recent national revolution. Medhat, Samia and their son Jack helped to facilitate this event and it was special to witness the coming together of people from different beliefs to enjoy games, music and fellowship. If anyone wants to know more about the work that Medhat and Samia are involved in please write me for contact details at [email protected]

We leave later than we wanted to which means driving in the dark which is another challenge – especially when a dark moving object appears in your headlights: cars driving at 70 km/hour with no lights – none at all!

We are relieved when we drive into our campsite – all 4 of us ready to crash.

We spend the biggest part of the day at the office making copies for an official in Khartoum who we hope will be able to help us. After we came to a dead end with our Sudanese visas in the Cairo embassy Willie  found, through an internet search, the name of someone with whom he could share our dilemma with. We are definitely not out of the woods yet, but it does sound promising. We have to call him on Sunday when he will be able to give us an update on our status. We are also very thankful for the help we received at the office in Cairo.

I’ve shared about our growing friendship with the “Brits” from England who are also on an overland trip to South Africa. We met in the campsite in Cairo again and it is interesting to share our travel woes, whims, wishes and ways. Our tortoise lifestyle continues to teach us how to grow in shrinking…

Hugo has been toying with the idea of cutting his hair. He wanted to grow his hair for this trip: to see what it looks like long; when it in a ponytail etc. It has becoming more and more difficult – to keep it clean and together in this weather, dust and wind.

This morning he has made his decision: Hair comes off!

Willie clips off wads of hair before buzzing and Hugo is extra funny as he is undergoing this procedure. I struggle to edit my video clips to post, but I will hopefully conquer this soon. He is very happy once it is all done and he looks like a new traveler who joined our group. I will miss my Pirate from the Caribbean though…!

Back at the Sudanese embassy it became very clear that we are not going to find anyone to help us there. We spoke with a higher official and although friendly he told us the same story. Someone from inside of Khartoum must invite/sponsor or request that we are allowed in Sudan. That's the final answer.

We came back to the office to see if we can perhaps make contact with someone in Khartoum that will be sympathetic to our cause and be able to help us obtain our Sudanese visas.

Needless to say that the stress of this situation has eaten away at the reserves  of nerves left. I have all kinds of nightmares about what will happen, what will we do when we get stuck, etc, etc – it is such a hopeless, almost desperate feeling when you are totally delivered over to the goodwill of other people – especially those in authoritarian positions that can bluntly make or break a decision by a mere yes or no.

Willie makes several calls to different people, write e-mails, and made contact with the an official in the US Embassy in Khartoum who seems willing to help us. We are waiting to hear from him.

We drive to the Campus Crusade office in Cairo and are fortunate to see many of our former collegeus and their wives, because it is Mother’s Day in Egypt and everyone was together for a time of celebration. It is wonderful to catch up and see everyone. We have an interesting few hours talking to a few of the leaders about the current situation in Egypt, what their thoughts are on the coming elections, foreseeable changes etc. and Hugo and Andrej also had the opportunity to get to know friends that we have known for many years.

We drive to the Ethiopian visa and we extremely happy to find out that visas were granted to all 4 of us! All 4 of us are in such a good mood as we drive home and we enjoy the Traffic River even more as our elation spills over to our fellow travelers.

All our experiences are shared at the camps. The Brits are doing better than us – they have to jump through the few official hoops, but they will receive their visas with no problems.

Visa hunt starts! We try to leave early. Our first stop is the American Embassy to find out if we need a letter of invitation for Sudan. You do not need a driver’s license, nor driver’s school training to drive in Cairo – you need nerves of steel, if possible, an armored vehicle, determination and patience that continues to multiply itself. When you stick your car’s nose out in the traffic you enter a world that will be difficult for me to explain in order for you to understand what I really mean. No rules apply except for the unspoken and you learn them as you blunder along. We have a big, heavy vehicle, loaded and it attracts a lot of attention; FOREIGNERS are written write over it and I think it actually helps us in this case. Egyptians, in general, are very friendly and welcoming and even in the traffic – if our monster try to edge and negotiate itself through a very narrow space, we find more help than shouts of anger of fingers wagging at us. Some waves us threw with the pull of an eyebrow saying, ‘’just go your idiots, with that tank of a car of yours”, but most are accommodating. It is an interesting experience once you are in the “traffic-river”. You should not be bothered by close distances, hair-rising close distances, nail-bite close distances – they are around you all the time – most of them you are not even aware that they are happening where you cannot see. The traffic move forwards, on average, when the river is swelling, probably 20km/hour – it can go down to 15 to stop; pull away; stop. You are surrounded by a mass of cars – with no order, in no lanes and often some not even pointing in the general directions of the flow – forwards. It is no surprise to see a car, motorbike or even donkey-cart fight their way upcarstream or find a car blocking your way completely  - and you have no idea what will happen next. The mystery is that it all moves forward in some kind of a way – slow, choppy under the accompaniment of excessive honking through all existing sound frequencies that can exist. Some cars honkers even play short melodies. I might have seen a traffic light, but they have very little effect on what’s happening in the “river”. Security guards dressed in black with white batons and whistles are able to conduct the most order out of the chaos.

The area around the embassies are heavily guarded and tanks with soldiers are everywhere. We finally thought we have a parking place for our car when a guard calls Willie back and said we cannot park in the close vicinity because of the gas bottle and diesel cans on the roof. Where to find parking? Willie circles several times and finds parking next to Tahrir Square (where most of the protests happen). Everything is calm and peaceful though at the moment.

Our US embassy expedition was not very successful. According the lady who works there no letters of recommendation were given to other embassies since 1992 – totally the opposite from what we’ve recently read in blogs from over landers who are still traveling. Well, this is authority.

Around the corner to the Sudanese embassy and what a rude reception Willie receives. “No visas for Americans! We don’t give visas to Americans!” There was not a way we could talk to him, explain our situation or anything – he was closed for us and our situation. We asked if we could speak with someone else and was told to wait. We waited more than an hour and there was no one who could help us. Willie then decided to go to the Ethiopian embassy. Maybe it will help if we can show that we have Ethiopian visas to prove to Sudan that we have no desire to stay in their country? Who knows?

We are not allowed to enter the Ethiopian embassy and have to sit in the street. We explained our situation and first they wanted to know why the boys do not have Sudanese visas (we have, but they are expired) and all of this communication takes place on a pre-school English level. You are never sure what is understood and what not. We fill our necessary forms, pay money and are told to wait again. Down the street comes a man with a grey-blue robe and turban around his head shouting, “patatas, patatas!”as he pushes a cart with a little steel dome oven. He sells smoked, roasted sweet potatoes or yams. We are so hungry and have no idea how long will we still have to wait. Hugo walks over and asks him how much.  He immediately starts to wrap patatas and Hugo, with all kind of hand gestures, says no – how much, but whether we wanted to or not – we have 5 patatas!

They taste wonderful and he watches us gulp through them. He comes over again – this time with a plastic bag to wrap them in and a spice mixture in scrap paper with science formulas on them! He takes the yam from me, dip it in the mix and shows me now it eat…Hmmm, very nice, salty and garlicky, but very nice! He is happy and we are happy. What an unexpected friendly gesture in a day that this far was difficult, full of potholes!

A friendly Egyptian girl emerges from the gate and tells us that our visas will be ready the next afternoon. She, however cannot guarantee us that they guys will have visas since they do not have Sudanese visas in their passports. All we can do at this stage is pray.

We plunge into the Traffic River, overflowing its banks into all directions, and what hypothetically could take ½ hour takes 1 ½ hours to get home. If you do not allow impatience or irritation to become your partner then it can actually be quite funny – you become a spectator of an ever-changing, ever-morphing show. The one thing I’ve realized is that once you are in the river you become river possession, an object of public display – everybody comments on us, about us, laughs, winks, waves, greets, shouts, sings – it is quite a happy celebration of us being in Cairo. We hear “Welcome in Cairo” all the time. Young boys and guys-to-become men think this this is seriously cool  (my guess, as a woman, is that this must be the realization of some pre-mordial dream of most men… this is just a guess, though) The road has effectively blended tightly with the social fibre of the city and has become a social network oasis: you can: sell anything; fix anything; eat anything; cook anything; talk about anyone and anything 1 ft from the road – everything goes as long as the masses approve and the margins of approval are wide – there is not too much you can do wrong: don’t bump or scrape someone’s car; don’t hit someone’s hand when he walks by; DO NOT park in the wrong parking spot and that is as much as I could observe that is deemed negative. Women weave in and out the traffic, selling tissues and trinkets; goats graze right next to the road; old men stare at us through the smoke of their water-pipes and tea, from motorbikes mid-eastern music loudly blare into the air and join the cacophony of the Allmighty Traffic River. It is a world of its own where you become part of and live a life of the traffic.

We reach our campsite – happy to have a place where we can go back to, but not even there are we removed from the roar of the traffic in the distance. We receive a happy surprise when we drive in: the Brits have joined us again. We have lots to share and we find that we are tied closer together by every kilometer shared.

 Willie takes Andrej and Hugo to the National Museum in the center of city. I stay to do laundry – hand wash – ushers me to a place where I really appreciate washing machines and dryers. It is actually quite satisfactory to do it – see your handiwork hang on a line! I sort through photos and prepare the blog to post when we find an opportunity. I am looking forward to see my friend Barb who has been in Cairo for almost 30 years. She speaks Arabic fluent and is not considered a Westerner amongst her team and friends anymore. Barb and I shared special times. We went jogging on the beach or did laps in the swimming pool or went for long walked during our annual conferences in Turkey. We visited Egypt several times for training and became even closer.

I hid myself under the shade of a canopy of dry palm leaves when I saw 2 people walking towards me: the one I immediately recognize – it was Barb wearing jeans and a fresh, blue t-shirt. It was wonderful to see one another and what an interesting place to have our reunion – on a backyards campsite on the outskirts of Cairo. She joined me under the palm shade and we had lots to catch up on – family news, friends, work, Egypt, America and all the changes not only taking place in Egypt, but also in Barb’s career. She was recently offered a senior leadership position and they are still working out the details of what exactly it will means: how much she will have to travel; how to visit and oversee all the countries under her leadership. Willie arrived back from taking the guys to the National Museum and it was good to visit together.

Barb left after 6 and the guys arrived at 7. They are very tired, but felt the visit was definitely worth it – it is quite overwhelming and they definitely only scratched the surface. One can literally spend months there and not exhaust the riches offered by the museum.

I am in our campsite in Cairo. From minaret to minaret to minaret all across the city the mullah of each mosque passionately sends his message via the speakers to everyone who can hear. Airwaves collide as the different voices reach their perimeter and one message flows into another to create a continuous din that fills the air. Imagine an umbrella that spans the city from one corner to the other – an umbrella that captures and gathers together every single sound that emanates from the mosques in the city. There is no escape, unless you are deaf; no choice, unless you soundproof your home.

 I find myself in a society saturated with religion from the very first breath you take. The call to prayer is as normal as the 3 meals you eat every day – it is a given – it is expected as it is one of the 5 pillars of Islam.  I am challenged with what I’ve grown up with, with what is “normal” and maybe even right for me… I do not have answers at this point as I am trying very hard to practice tolerance, to not be judgmental, to accept and embrace differences and to separate my personal convictions and from what I observe that I not necessarily agree with, understand or like.

We drove to the pyramids and the gas bottle on top of the car as well as the fuel cans cause problems (understandably so) for the security police. We come back to the campsite and I decide to stay. I really need some me-time and since I’ve been to the pyramids before I did not feel that great urge to visit again. The guys leave without the gas bottle and diesel cans and I hope it will go well with their endeavor. Sammie and I stay in the camp and we have a lovely, quiet day. I write and watch birds and enjoy the time to think and reflect over all our experiences.

The guys return at 4 and are very tired. They had a great day, though, with lots of stories. The most awesome is that they were allowed to drive around the pyramids with the vehicle! A very exceptional privilege and the only reason why that was allowed are because of the few tourists in the city. You will see from the photos what an awesome experience they had.

We know we are in Africa for more than one reason: lots of birds, and even more mosquitoes and do they bite? We are fortunate that we are not in a malaria area yet, but this gives us good practice: we spray, burn candles, cover ourselves with clothes, and start to use our mosquito nets. Sammie also needs special extra protection. He has to take a heart worm pill and we have to spray his sleeping quarters with a special spray.

A wind still day ushers us back into an unreal reality. We continue to relish in our location and the unexpected wonders of an underwater world that we did not know existed. It will be a long drive to Cairo. We pack and round off our perfect experience with a last snorkel to admire beauty that we do not know if we will ever experience or see again. Cairo, here we come. The road continues along the Red Sea in the distance and through the Sinai desert. Hugo and Andrej amuse themselves at the expense of a sleeping Sammie by sticking all kinds of bizarre objects into his mouth and then take pictures of it!

 We reach the city Suez which is under heavy surveillance and army troops and tanks are everywhere. We cross through several check points with no problems. Everyone is friendly and waves us through. We cross the Suez Canal through a tunnel and as we emerge we are officially in Africa! Willie drives through the heart of Suez-city and we again feel as if we’ve entered a different world. The traffic is true to everything we remember of Egypt; 6 cars occupy a 3 lane road; shared by motorbikes, bikes, pedestrians and often donkey-carts; cars honk, pass one another with near accident-distances between them; people jump on and off moving taxi kombi’s in the midst of shouting, laughing, talking and endless activity whilst heavily armed soldiers on army tanks keep guard.

Willie takes us to a park on the edge of the Suez Canal where we watch huge ships negotiate the narrow waterway with ease and elegance – a little surreal – big ships, in the middle of an arid desert, appear from nowhere, glide pass and disappear! We cause a little stir in the local community: an odd-looking group: Willie and Andrej with their farmer and cowboy hats, Hugo, who stepped out of Pirates of the Caribbean with his long hair, and me – gray-blonde with a vicious looking black dog on a leash! 2 uniformed officials approach us and ask for passports and they make it clear, respectful and friendly, that we are not allowed to take any pictures of the ships or canal. We are joined by a friendly Egyptian man who it turns out is working for the American government. It is good to talk to him about the situation in Egypt. He tells us that Hilary Clinton visited Tawiq Square yesterday; that the revolution was necessary and that the Egyptian people have waited a long time for the needed change that is coming. The military is in control and will be until the nation votes on the newly written constitution. We are surprised to find out that voting will take place in the next few days!

The closer to the outskirts of Cairo we come the more congested the roads. Our car, with us inside, and Sammie half hanging outside of the car attract a lot of attention. We drive so slowly and so close to one another that you can have quite a meaningful conversation with your neighbor driver. “Let’s catch up on the ring road,” or “See you on the highway!” We are heartily greeted often with, “Welcome to Egypt! Where you from?” If we say, “South Africa” then the answer will be, “Bafana, Bafana!” I’m happy for South Africa for what the World Cup has done for them: it carried them into the international arena, but also into homes of all cultures and countries of the world.

We have to traverse the city through weekend –, going home- and crazy Cairo traffic. Nevertheless, it adds to our cultural experience as the Nile greets us and the pyramids wave to us in the hazy distance. We realize that 25 January is not only Ruco’s birthday, but also The-Day in Egypt – the day that the revolution, as they refer to it, started. It is displayed on cars, donkey carts, bill boards and young boys sell it at traffic lights. We miss our campsite with one exit which means another extra 14 km and we reach camp Selma after dark – tired, but glad that we made it safely to Cairo and that we have a place to sleep and a place where our car will be safe.