HISTORY CONTENT

The Sinai Desert Challenge
A Personal Perspective

In October 2000 Women's Aid ran its annual fund-raising Sinai Desert Challenge in Egypt - and I was there! There are many aspects to the challenge - sleeping in the desert without a tent, having no toilet or bathroom facilities, trekking in intense heat, climbing Mount Sinai in the middle of the night, not washing. or washing from a bottle of water depending on your preference, trekking on camel back and living without those little luxuries that we think we can't do without.

None of these things concerned me in the run-up to the trip. I was focused on getting summer clothes in Dublin in October. I covered miles of shop floors combining my quest for desert chic with the need to pretend to myself that I was training. My biggest fear was that I would melt on arrival as I only seem to own winter clothes. Eventually, I begged and borrowed some suitable gear. That problem solved I was now ready to start worrying about creepy crawlies and tiny, stingy animals that I had no name for, but knew could do serious damage to an unprotected woman in the desert. And I just won't mention snakes. My mother, always there with a reassuring word, said that I would probably be 'eaten' on the trip - that was my fear too - but I was more scared of creepy-crawlies than the strange, foreign men who inhabit my mother's imagination.

Like everything, the time came to stop worrying and just get on with it. We flew from Dublin to London and from there to Sharm El Shiek, arriving in the early hours of the morning. It was warm, very warm, warmer than any hot day in Ireland I had ever remembered - so it was time for me to have a worry about sunstroke, dehydration and sunburn. We left the airport by jeep and headed away from the city into the dead of night and the middle of the desert. We met our guide (Isham) and the people who would look after us for the week. The Desert was silent and dark and sandy (this much even I had expected). Arriving in the dark is great - you go to sleep with no idea of your surroundings and awake the next morning in the middle of a valley in the desert. So far, so good.

Just to clarify - we slept in sleeping bags on ground mats WITH NO TENTS for a week. To my surprise, I fell asleep easily on the first night after all the travelling. I was also a little dazed - there is a world of difference between waking in your bed in Dublin and going to sleep that same night in the vastness of a desert in a sleeping bag.

I had borrowed a state-of-the-art sleeping bag. A stitched in label boasted that '8 Everest Expeditions' had availed of its warmth and comfort. Warmth was not what I needed on the first few nights in the desert and I had to lie on top of it to stay cool. But when we headed for Mount Sinai and camped way above sea-level I was glad of my Everest sleeping bag and took back all the curses that I had uttered on those first few nights.

Before I go on, I will address the burning issue of the toilet facilities. Every time you use the toilet (sand) the toilet paper must be burned, as it does not decompose. It is harder than you think to light damp paper but it gives everyone something in common from the beginning and you get used to it very quickly. And, if I'm honest, it is easier than walking all the way upstairs! And it is definitely easier than trying to use a toilet in any pub at the weekend. And without a seat there are no dilemmas about hovering.

The food was fantastic, cooked by Alowi freshly everyday. I drank loads of water. I felt great - there are no mirrors to freak you out first thing in the morning. I got a tan very quickly, I felt even better. Some Bedouin women we met at an oasis put traditional Kohl on my eyes and I bought a local scarf to protect my head from the sun and I felt like yer one in the 'English Patient'. I was a new woman. I was a woman who drank loads of water, ate three regular freshly cooked meals and walked everyday. One day I even climbed a mountain before breakfast. My illusions were shattered when we went to a town and I saw myself in a full length mirror, the glamorous kohl, now a few days old, was smeared around my eyes and as for my scarf it was not exactly Ariel White. I suppose it takes more than a week in the desert to change your life.

The desert is beautiful. It is utterly tranquil and peaceful. For me, it was a place of no worries, no stress, no cars, no commuting, no house prices and no mirrors. After a few days I got sick of hearing myself describe experiences, sights, sunrises, sand, mountains, views, walks as amazing or gorgeous. This year I will bring a thesaurus, as there must be better words to describe it.