Day 82
Sleeping location: Military checkpoint in the desert at 28.02N 33.47E, Egypt
Distance (km today/total): 98 / 6411
Estimated climb (m today/total): 400 / 56500
Average speed: 11kph
Day in three words: An evil wind
The day started nicely with the sight of an osprey carrying a fish in its claws, then the discovery of a tiny sand lizard, but this joy was tempered by the discovery that the wind had cruelly carried off my quilt’s stuff sack in the night. I was forced to use a carrier bag, which leaves the “compressed” quilt three times its usual size, which will not do at all. Following this I did manage to successfully replace my gear cable on the beach, but my trusty Leatherman wasn’t up to the task of making the final snip, so I had to zip tie the loose bit to the chainstay for now. We went for a ride around Ras Mohammed, which was pretty nice in an empty peaceful kind of way. The sea meets the desert here and there are some beautiful mangroves and clear-watered bays. We had a swim and headed off about 10am, just as all the tour buses from Sharm were arriving (making it a whole lot less empty and peaceful).
By this time the cruel wind had picked up and was now pretty strong. We battled our way along a quiet road which led back to the main road. Or actually, it didn’t, because like in Dahab it was closed by the military for no apparent reason and with no warning sign. This was especially annoying because a) the alternative route was a 20km detour, and b) two different soldiers had told us that this route was fine. The guys in charge here were all teenagers, some of them in swimming shorts and flip flops, and I asked if they could call an actual soldier to ask if we could go through, but no luck. We went back to the main park entrance next to the main Sharm checkpoint, where we were assigned the usual (unwanted) police escort. The guy in charge here had actually attended to cycled Cairo to Cape himself many years ago, but he hadn’t actually made it out of Egypt. Probably got sick of all the police escorts.
By now the wind was raging and the first section was a 200m climb into it. It was an ordeal just to keep going, and my mood wasn't helped by the police car pulling alongside and the (fat) chief jokily suggesting that I pedal harder. After this we descended (slowly) to a petrol station I’d clocked on google maps, as we were almost out of water. It was, however, no longer a petrol station, had had its electricity and water cut off, and was being used as some kind of military base. They offered to fill up some of our bottles but obviously didn’t realise that we take about 10 litres between us; we got up to about 5 litres before they cracked and pointed us in the direction of the onsite shop, which we didn’t even know existed. With the detour and the wind it was clear we weren’t going to make the next town by sunset, and the police definitely wouldn’t let us camp in the desert, so I showed a subsequent “petrol station” on google maps to a soldier; he confirmed its existence so we decided to aim to sleep there.
The next section was very flat and directly into the howling wind. We crawled along, fighting to get up to 13kph and taking turns on the front to give ourselves a bit of respite. After a while we were handed over to a new police car and chief, whose first word to us is an exasperated “WHY?!?”. At this point I was wondering the same. Around sunset we reached the location of the petrol station on google maps. It seemed to have somehow dissolved into sand, just like the “shopping mall” and “beach bar” shown at the same location. Do not trust google maps in the desert. We suggested that we camp next to a couple of distant buildings but the police were having none of it. They said that there was a checkpoint 7km away (actually: 10km) where we could sleep, so we rode on into the darkness towards it.
The checkpoint was attached to an enormous oil refinery but was otherwise alone in the empty desert, very sandy, very quiet apart from some lurking camels. We were shown to a small abandoned watchtower at the front where they said we could sleep. Not all of the windows closed and it contained several car bumpers, but it was clean and comfy enough. We washed, set up our sleeping stuff and started to make dinner (tuna and sweetcorn noodles). Midway through the noodle boiling (a critical stage) a new man appeared and told us that we couldn’t sleep here any more and that we had to get to Al Tor 30km away. We were offered a lift in the vans but obviously this is not in the spirit of my journey and I declined*. The man left, and left us with the prospect of eating loads of noodles then cycling 30km in the dark into a headwind. We heard them having a spirited argument in Arabic outside, then silence. Five minutes later the same man reappeared and told us that, actually, we could sleep here. Obviously this news was very well received and the noodles were eaten with special gusto.
*Rebecca, to her credit, also refused the lift as she didn’t want me to cycle alone
Distance (km today/total): 98 / 6411
Estimated climb (m today/total): 400 / 56500
Average speed: 11kph
Day in three words: An evil wind
The day started nicely with the sight of an osprey carrying a fish in its claws, then the discovery of a tiny sand lizard, but this joy was tempered by the discovery that the wind had cruelly carried off my quilt’s stuff sack in the night. I was forced to use a carrier bag, which leaves the “compressed” quilt three times its usual size, which will not do at all. Following this I did manage to successfully replace my gear cable on the beach, but my trusty Leatherman wasn’t up to the task of making the final snip, so I had to zip tie the loose bit to the chainstay for now. We went for a ride around Ras Mohammed, which was pretty nice in an empty peaceful kind of way. The sea meets the desert here and there are some beautiful mangroves and clear-watered bays. We had a swim and headed off about 10am, just as all the tour buses from Sharm were arriving (making it a whole lot less empty and peaceful).
By this time the cruel wind had picked up and was now pretty strong. We battled our way along a quiet road which led back to the main road. Or actually, it didn’t, because like in Dahab it was closed by the military for no apparent reason and with no warning sign. This was especially annoying because a) the alternative route was a 20km detour, and b) two different soldiers had told us that this route was fine. The guys in charge here were all teenagers, some of them in swimming shorts and flip flops, and I asked if they could call an actual soldier to ask if we could go through, but no luck. We went back to the main park entrance next to the main Sharm checkpoint, where we were assigned the usual (unwanted) police escort. The guy in charge here had actually attended to cycled Cairo to Cape himself many years ago, but he hadn’t actually made it out of Egypt. Probably got sick of all the police escorts.
By now the wind was raging and the first section was a 200m climb into it. It was an ordeal just to keep going, and my mood wasn't helped by the police car pulling alongside and the (fat) chief jokily suggesting that I pedal harder. After this we descended (slowly) to a petrol station I’d clocked on google maps, as we were almost out of water. It was, however, no longer a petrol station, had had its electricity and water cut off, and was being used as some kind of military base. They offered to fill up some of our bottles but obviously didn’t realise that we take about 10 litres between us; we got up to about 5 litres before they cracked and pointed us in the direction of the onsite shop, which we didn’t even know existed. With the detour and the wind it was clear we weren’t going to make the next town by sunset, and the police definitely wouldn’t let us camp in the desert, so I showed a subsequent “petrol station” on google maps to a soldier; he confirmed its existence so we decided to aim to sleep there.
The next section was very flat and directly into the howling wind. We crawled along, fighting to get up to 13kph and taking turns on the front to give ourselves a bit of respite. After a while we were handed over to a new police car and chief, whose first word to us is an exasperated “WHY?!?”. At this point I was wondering the same. Around sunset we reached the location of the petrol station on google maps. It seemed to have somehow dissolved into sand, just like the “shopping mall” and “beach bar” shown at the same location. Do not trust google maps in the desert. We suggested that we camp next to a couple of distant buildings but the police were having none of it. They said that there was a checkpoint 7km away (actually: 10km) where we could sleep, so we rode on into the darkness towards it.
The checkpoint was attached to an enormous oil refinery but was otherwise alone in the empty desert, very sandy, very quiet apart from some lurking camels. We were shown to a small abandoned watchtower at the front where they said we could sleep. Not all of the windows closed and it contained several car bumpers, but it was clean and comfy enough. We washed, set up our sleeping stuff and started to make dinner (tuna and sweetcorn noodles). Midway through the noodle boiling (a critical stage) a new man appeared and told us that we couldn’t sleep here any more and that we had to get to Al Tor 30km away. We were offered a lift in the vans but obviously this is not in the spirit of my journey and I declined*. The man left, and left us with the prospect of eating loads of noodles then cycling 30km in the dark into a headwind. We heard them having a spirited argument in Arabic outside, then silence. Five minutes later the same man reappeared and told us that, actually, we could sleep here. Obviously this news was very well received and the noodles were eaten with special gusto.
*Rebecca, to her credit, also refused the lift as she didn’t want me to cycle alone
Comments
Post a Comment