This morning we took a donkey carriage to go to the Mountain of the Dead, a small hill at the northern end of town. The hill is honeycombed with rock tombs that were used by the Siwans as shelters when the Italians bombed the oasis during World War II. Some of the tombs contain wall paintings and can be visited. Although these simple tombs had nothing in common with the glory of the pharaonic tombs in the Valley of the Kings, it was interesting to visit this place. When we returned to Siwa, we had a bit of free time before starting our desert safari in the afternoon, so I went for a walk in Shali. It was a bit weird to walk through this deserted labyrinth on my own. In any case I didn’t get far because there were no clear paths and I didn’t trust the building to be stable enough for me climbing all over the place.

In the early afternoon we were picked up by a jeep to start our ride into the desert. First, we crossed the big saltwater lake to arrive at another natural spring. I don’t know the name of this one and we didn’t swim in it but I like to call it “Arielle’s World” because of all the amazing underwater life that could be observed in the clear water (see picture). Close by we visited the ruins of a Graeco-Roman village. There wasn’t much left of it but it was interesting to imagine how people lived here about 2000 years ago. We stopped at another spring whose water was pretty clear but lots of seaweed had grown in the bath. We all had a swim in the big pool and stayed for a tea and late lunch in the “restaurant” next to it.

Refreshed by the dip in the water, we continued our ride towards the desert. The next stop was at an abandoned mud-brick village that once was famous for its olives before the inhabitants left it about 80 years ago to settle at another place in the desert. We could visit the ancient olive press and some lonely houses, beaten by the sand and wind. Somehow a touching place this ‘lost village’.

Before reaching the desert, we stopped once more, this time at a natural hot spring. There was not much to see here but the water had almost boiling temperature! Fascinating how this just comes out of the ground in the middle of nowhere... Then we finally reached the desert. Desert as I would have imagined it: Sahara-coloured sand and majestic dunes as far as you could see. Our driver seemed to know his way but unfortunately was driving quite recklessly, so that Andrea and I had trouble to enjoy the ride at some point. Especially, when the jeep jumped over a bump and I hit my head against the metal structure of the roof where we sat. I was actually surprised that I wasn’t bleeding as bad as it felt. But I felt even worse when I realised that not only my head had suffered from the bump but that I also must have hit my camera. All of a sudden, it didn’t work anymore. When I examined it a little closer, I heard some clicking sounds inside and the lens would open and close but other than that the camera was dead. I wanted to cry. Here I was in the middle of the desert, surrounded by the most beautiful photo motives, just at the beginning of my trip, and my camera, barely 3 weeks old, seemed to be broken. In the end, I had no choice but to take pictures in my mind. It was such a gorgeous view when Damian in his orange t-shirt tried to sand board down the occa-coloured dunes (he had rented a board before we left Siwa) and I will never forget the most majestic sand dune, elegantly curved towards the blue sky, looking like the flawless blade of an Oriental warrior.

We decided to stay in the desert and wait for the sunset. While everybody around me was getting their cameras ready and took pictures when the sun finally sunk into the dunes at the horizon, I stretched out on the sand, laid face down and closed my eyes, mourning the loss of my camera. It felt surprisingly good to lie like that. I could hear my heart beat through the sand, the ground was warm and I felt somehow safe and protected, strangely connected to Mother Earth. This must be the feeling a baby has when lying on his mother’s belly. I loved it.

After the sun was gone, our vehicle was supposed to go down the gigantic sand dune on which we sat. I am not very good in estimating distance but comparing it with the cliffs of Helgoland, I‘m sure it was at least 50 meters high. No way that I would sit in a car getting down there! In the end Damian offered me his sand board, saying I could give it a try. He had tried three times on different dunes throughout the day but was never very successful. The sand didn’t seem to have the necessary consistence. Well, I sat down on the board and Neal gave me a push - I was flying down the dune! I actually had to use my feet to break because I was getting scared! In the end, it was a great experience and I felt somehow comforted and compensated for the loss of my camera.

On the way back, I was praying to understand what was behind my broken camera. Why did this happen to me now? What was I supposed to do? I mentally prepared for spending a lot of money to buy a new one in Alexandria the next day, when the miracle happened: Back at the hotel, I followed Neal’s advice who was joking and said that maybe I should give it another hit and whatever was broken would fall back in its place. First I hesitated but then I thought, so what, it can’t get worse. I softly hit the camera a couple of times and pressed lots of buttons. Then I inserted new batteries and tried to switch it on - guess what, it worked! Apparently, God had decided that my camera was indeed too important to be broken. It made my day!

We had dinner at the same restaurant as yesterday and the only bad surprise left today was that Sarah and I met the family members of yesterday’s cockroach, this time not only in our bathroom. They were also in our bedroom and there was nothing we could about them. I must add that the beds most probably contained some fleas and other bugs because both Sarah and I had some bites on us since we arrived here. I crept deep inside my sleeping bag (so I wouldn’t need to touch the bed sheets) and we both couldn’t wait to leave ‘Bug City”…