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| EGYPT Slouching in the saddle like a weary Middle Eastern nomad, I rode the camel as it ambled along a narrow path between rugged mountains and the Gulf of Aqaba. The sun glared mercilessly. Through polarized sunglasses I looked up and saw only white light. I reached into my backpack, took a sip of bottled water. But it seemed almost as hot as the 105-degree surface temperature. With each inhalation of broiling air, my nose hair felt as though it might ignite. To make matters worse, a blister had formed on my buttocks. And with each wobbly stride of the camel, the blister rubbed against the saddle and grew.
After traveling to Luxor and marveling at the Karnak and Hatshepsut temples, I squandered another chance because the "Sunset Camel Rides" seemed a bit Disneyesque. I had hoped for a unique camel riding experience. In Dahab, a tiny resort village on the east coast of the Sinai Peninsula, I finally found what I thought I was looking for. Dahab is a haven for escapists who come primarily to snorkel and scuba dive in the Red Sea. The town boasts cozy beachfront restaurants, more than 40 scuba diving centers, and a multitude of tour operators offering desert jeep treks, sunrise climbs on nearby Mount Sinai, and of course, camel rides. For about $30, I arranged for a full-day camel trek to the Bedouin village a few miles up the coast. Bedouins migrated from Arabia hundreds of years earlier and continue to inhabit the harsh inhospitable areas of Egypt's Western and Eastern deserts as well as the Sinai Peninsula. They are a nomadic people who depend on camels for survival.
I do not speak Arabic. The boy did not speak English. Acute shyness prevented him from looking me in the eye. It soon became apparent that any communication would be brief and nonverbal. Suddenly, my young guide yanked down on the camel's reigns. The beast released a strange muffled roar. It was precisely the same sound made by Han Solo's hairy sidekick, Chewbaca the Wookie, in Star Wars. The camel then dropped to the ground, folding its legs beneath it before sitting.
I soon learned that camels and horses are not alike. With me in the saddle, the camel stood up on its hind legs first, as camels do, thrusting its rear end high in the air. Unprepared for the sudden shift of balance, I slid out of the saddle and fell forward. As the camel's front legs rose, leveling the previously occupied saddle area, I found myself clinging to the camelís neck. I dropped to the ground, feet first, and gave my young guide a look that said, "Yeah, ahhh I did that on purpose". That was the first and only time I saw him smile.
When we reached a flat stretch, my guide allowed the camel to run. It was a clumsy, wobbly 200-yard sprint, but it felt exhilarating to say the least. Even though all that bouncing in the saddle created a blister on my butt.
After dismounting near one of the structures, I was approached by a veiled woman who handed me a plate piled high with rice and salad. I dined alone in a shack, facing the crisp blue Gulf of Aqaba. Across it lay the rugged outline of Saudi Arabia. Beneath the shade of the Bedouin shack, stuffed with food and refreshed by cold bottled water, I gazed at the scenery and fell asleep for a couple of hours. The camel ride back to Dahab was a tad more difficult – mainly because of the blister on my posterior. Although we headed back mid-afternoon, when the sun was at its hottest, the heat seemed tolerable compared to the pain in my butt. With each wobbly step of the camel, I bounced in the saddle and winced. Because the return trip would cover 4 or 5 rocky miles, it never occurred to me to get off the camel and walk. My young guide apparently does it all the time. click here for more images of Egypt Next
stop: Mykonos, Greece.
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