Motorbikes in the Desert

Rachel and I took the train to Alexandria, which decided to stop for over an hour right outside Cairo. But we got there eventually, and asked a few guys about where to get the bus to Siwa. 30 minutes later, we had tickets to the 10pm bus and a few hours to kill, so we walked around the various bus station food stalls, testing the fruit and taamiya, and getting stared at by a creepy man while we brushed our teeth with bottled water behind a pile of dirt.

Siwa is an oasis near the Libyan border. People there speak a type of Berber, and the women (past girlhood) are generally only seen riding on the back of donkey carts, face and everything covered (not even eyes).

6am Siwa, at which point Rachel's cough had grown to full-out misery, we checked into the first hotel. At noon, Rachel made her intention to not leave the room very clear, so I went out into the town to arrange a desert safari for the next day. Several dudes offered me prices, but in one shop the guy said, "How would you like to go? 4by4, motorbike.." Holdup. Motorbike? Yes, motorbike. And its cheaper!

The next day we got on the back of the motorbikes and rode off into the Great Sand Sea. This is that part of the Sahara that's always on National Geographic: the undulating sand dunes, nothing but sky and sand. Motorbikes are mad fun on those dunes. I was behind Muhammad, and Rachel behind a guy named Yusef. Muhammad was fun, racing up and down the dunes, but Yusef was rather a bit timid. On the downslopes he would turn off the bikes and clumisly shuffle down, Rachel walking beside him. Muhammad and I were meanwhile racing off. Those dunes are high. We had to stop every couple minutes to wait for Yusef or turn back. Then Muhammad got a call from his friend the police officer. The cops were out patroling the desert and apparently its illegal or something to take tourists out on motorbikes (something about it being not safe). That morning before we left a rival tour guide had called me and told me not to go if it was on bikes. "Not safe," he said. Whatever.

Muhammad shouted to Yusef to follow us and took off - soon Rachel and Yusef were left in the dust. We raced to get out of the desert, to get on the road where no one would get in trouble. When we crossed over roads or rocks there was always a bump, but once that shit sent me flying, up over Muhammad, but luckily I landed back on the bike. We also saw a herd of camels. There were about 20, including babies. It took us a good close-to-an-hour to get out of the desert and to the hot spring at the edge of town. Muhammad dropped me off at a hot spring then went off the see what was up at the police station. 40 minutes later, Yusef and Rachel showed up (slow). 5 minutes later, Muhammad: all good.

After sandboarding and riding aroud on the roof of a 4by4, we camped out with a bunch of Koreans, though Muhammad and Osman, the guy running the camp, kept making fun of the Koreans by saying random syllables to imitate Korean. Motorbikes are mad fun though - and no one needs helmets!