It wasn’t until I was nearly halfway back to the main gates after walking most of the way with a group of Egyptian Hikers I had connected with through Facebook, that it hit me.
Here I was wandering in the Wadi Degla- a veritable desert; like Tatooine from Star Wars.
At any moment a Jarwan Tusken Raider would appear - I was certain of this. My feet ached from the over-sized blisters that I crafted during the first five kilometres of the hike, in brand new shoes - an acquirement which being absent of my luggage, had forced upon me. My new found friends assured me I would be ok - but they did not know that I had the blister mother-load forming on the heel and toes of my left foot. They don’t have a word for “foot” in Egypt - they call it the same as a leg. A detail that I told my friends, would be one to get correct if you happened to be an orthopaedic surgeon.
They roared with laughter.
I have found Egyptians to have a really good sense of humour so far - they love to laugh, and they seem to get the kiwi sense of humour also, which is a bonus.
The Wadi Degla (Wadi means dry valley) covers around 60 square kilometres of desert land from when much of Egypt was covered by the Mediterraemean sea, near the edge of Cairo. For me it was an easy uber ride of around 15 minutes from Maadi. The sheer stratified limestone cliffs were created some 2-5 million years ago by sea-bed levels dropping and there are also side canyons and interesting rock formations. There are fossil remains of fish and shells that can be found in the Wadi Degla also. This area on the edge of the smouldering mass that is Cairo, was designated a protected area back in 1999, and people pay a small fee to enter which supposedly goes towards ensuring the area remains protected.
You didn’t have to look far however, beyond the ornate entrance area, to see how Cairo could not be kept from this spectacular wilderness area - as I sat on a stunning arched window I looked out onto litter scattered everywhere.
Plastic, sadly, is a common feature of the wonderful Wadi Degla Protectorate.
Why would people do this, I wondered? It is meant to be a protected area, but still there is rubbish. I could not imagine this in a New Zealand national park - this Wadi Degla, was the equivalent.
The Wadi Degla is popular on weekends with families taking an outing, hikers, runners (I saw an expat running group there), climbers, mountain bikers, festival planners, campers.
I saw all these things while there.
My invitation to the Hiking Trails of Egypt outing, was by accident really (as I had joined another group - The Wadi Clan, and they referred me to the Hiking trails group as they were not doing a hike that weekend) and I mused about the good fortune of this as I sat amongst my new friends around a camp fire brewing fresh Egyptian mint tea after we had walked for a couple of hours.
I was amused at what my friends had brought along for this day hike, but also grateful!
Hashtag ‘pinch myself’.
We chatted about politics, bodies, health (as the guys in the group lit up cigarettes - as ya do, in Egypt), education, the wilderness, animals, climbing, mountain biking.
What a great day with great people. Who cares about the fact that my heels are peeling off.
One guy explained to me I needed to come when it rains as the Wadi becomes littered with waterfalls. The area also has two dams within it, a testimony to how much rain can be captured when it does actually fall (only a few times a year).
My friends - a great sense of humour made this a fantastic day.
We wandered up into valleys, over ridges, down steep shingle spurs, dangled our legs over the edges of canyons into the void, drifted into dried river beds, poked our heads into caves, scrambled up shingle walls and marvelled at dry waterfalls. We soon would part ways, as my back-pack was being delivered to my apartment and I needed to be home for that, so it was planned that we would walk together to a certain point where the group would climb up to the opposite side of the wadi, and I would continue the fastest way back to the main gates - directly down the middle of the Wadi.
As the old-lady of the group - a group with ages ranging from 15 to possibly 35, I felt well looked after and respected. Everyone invited me to share their food and teas.
A camp fire interlude in the Wadi
As I sat at that camp fire, I was amused by the array of paraphernalia they had opted to bring along. From the outset, I was intrigued by the lack of suitable hiking attire! Flat converse shoes, sandals, hijabs and handbags all accompanied the group.
At the camp fire, three different tea pots emerged from backpacks along with a Turkish coffee pot.
One guy even brought along his ceramic coffee mug, carefully wrapped in newspaper., which amused me greatly
Instant noodles were consumed with gusto, along with boxes of fresh dates, giant bags of mandarins and bags of Cheeto-style crisps. I wondered how on earth they had fitted all this stuff into their small day-packs! One woman had a whole cucumber, several tomatoes, olives and fresh herbs and proceeded to construct a salad right there - she had a cutting board and knife.
The group leader insisted I have some - “its healthy!” He announced; “yes it looks amazing”, I responded and then watched as he consumed it, chasing it down with a cigarette.
I sat and marinated in this experience. How incredibly lucky was I, to be in this place, this ancient ancient land that the western world calls “third world” yet is one of the oldest points of civilisation on the planet - where they constructed pyramids over 4500 years ago! It was once rich beyond measure. What had happened? I was now rich beyond measure.
I was grateful in that moment to be around people who like me, loved the outdoors and nature.
I was grateful in that moment to be in that place. With those people.
It didn’t matter that they brought everything but the kitchen sink with them - this is Egypt; it didn’t matter that they were dressed as if they were going to work. One woman wore a Niqab - she is a mountain bike racer as well. I had visions of her clothing getting caught in the chain or wrapped around her rear wheel; her face covering catching in the front brake or it riding up over her eyes so she couldn’t see.
Respect.
After our break, we walked together for sometime until I said goodbye to my tribe, and then headed directly down the main valley trail for a 7km hike to the main gates, with shouts and arm-waving from them above me on the edge of the canyon they had climbed to, in order to complete the longer version of the hike.
Waves and shouts from the opposite side of the wadi.
The three dogs that had decided to join us for the day looked confused as to who they should follow - one black one decided I was a good bet, but then seeing that her two friends had chosen to stick with the group, she left me to join her tribe also.
See ya desert dog - thanks for the company!
I continued on down the trail, my left foot reminding me it was there and I tried out a few alternative walks in order to preserve as much skin as possible. I probably just looked weird.
The stunning natural architecture offers shadows and light in a constant dance across the Wadi.
I was completely alone in this baron wasteland of a place; this desert wilderness so close to the wild rawness of Cairo. A plane screamed over head as it came in for its approach to the airport which was just a few kilometres away; golden sand grew deep beneath my feet in places, making it more painful and more difficult to walk without wincing. There were patches were the sand had shifted enough to reveal the white patches of smooth limestone beneath - a feature I had seen before in some river beds in New Zealand. Smoothly carved out channels of white limestone ran in parallel lengths; or was it marble? I had heard there was a marble mining operating near the Wadi. Perhaps it wasn’t limestone. Beside me towering canyon walls preserved the valley temperature even though a breeze grew in strength, picking up sand and empty snail shells with it. I put my camera away - sand and cameras do not mix.
After I had walked for 3-4 km, I started to hear voices and see cars.
Cars were allowed to drive into the Wadi, and people would do this - finding a small hollowed side canyon, they would park up and spend some time, have a picnic or a BBQ, play ball, take a short walk. What they didn’t take however, was their rubbish away with them.
As I came closer to the main gate, the cars and people grew in number and so too did the proliferation of rubbish.
Plastic bags of every colour decorated the bushes and rocks; broken glass; plastic bottles; torn fabric - everywhere some telling sign that people had been and left their mark. I was appalled at this.
Could people not see how wrong this was?
About 1km before the entrance gate, I heard the unmissable sound of tiny puppies crying for their mother, to the left of the trail. Two teeny pale coloured pups and one darker one, terrified of me, ran to the side of the rock they had emerged from. They were crying loudly - wailing - for food, for momma, for water, for love, for what? These babies were small - I would say five weeks at the most.
Tiny puppies wandered the Wadi, wining for food.
Egypt dogs were going to get to me - I could sense this.
People will carry on as they always have - the rubbish will become worse, the puppies will keep crying, the cars will pile in and the Wadi Degla may struggle to contain itself from Cairo’s encroaching swallowing boundaries.
Let’s hope people start to care enough to ensure that doesn’t happen.
Click on the images below for a full sized image.
