10 - 16 May 2001
Issue No.533
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Al-Ahram Weekly On-line 10 - 16 May 2001 Issue No.533 |
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Riding the dunes
The camel has found a new -- and noisy -- competitor in Sharm Al-Sheikh. Al-Ahram Weekly and Company check out the latest in desert transport
It was time for a change of pace and the nomad in me yearned for the desert. What I had in mind was an afternoon trek to the dunes, but we were soon to learn that what's in in Sharm are more "sophisticated" alternatives. The two most popularly advertised portion-of-the-day desert excursions are camel rides and quadrunners -- four-wheel desert bikes also known as ATVs (All Terrain Vehicles). The child took one look at the picture of a "quad" and it was love and first sight. But what about the camels, we asked? This was our obvious preference. The child frowned. You prefer the quad? A big smile. Camels? Frown. Quad? Smile. We could not win and so quad it was.
SUN RULE: As extensive a tan as possible is consideration number one in Sharm beach-wear. And thongs are in
Our agent of choice was San Morino, which has an office in the bazaar and another on the boardwalk. A two-hour sunset ride through the desert on a quad costs LE150 for a single bike, LE180 for double. (All the operators we checked during the course of our stay offered similar trips for similar prices). Rather expensive, but then this is Sharm. The child was assured he would be allowed to drive his own ATV, so I opted to share a bike with my friend: neither of us was too keen on the upcoming trip anyway.
We boarded the company bus, made rounds of the other hotels to pick up more passengers -- a group of Italians (who were late), a sole Brit and an Iraqi couple. Breaking off from the main road we drove over the barren desert for about 20 minutes before reaching a valley crawling with what might have been insects but turned out to be groups of people on quads. This was apparently the starting point for all the operators. From a quiet place known for its dunes and wildlife, this spot in the desert has been turned into an ATV depot, the once silent air filled with the roaring of revving engines.
Of course, no one had told us in advance that we would need scarves, and preferably goggles, to cover our faces. At the "garage" where we picked up our bikes we were offered this necessary gear at inflated prices. We wished we had had the foresight to bring our own scarves -- we needed them.
We now learned that quads are dangerous machines. The child could not ride one on his own, our guide told us flatly. Reading the various warning signs stuck on the body of the machine, we agreed. I was stuck with riding on my own, which in the event was great.
We were duly wrapped up and, engines revving, began to move in single file behind our guide. How difficult could riding this silly contraption be? After a few lurches, several swerves to the left and right and major difficulties in making turns, I realised it needed more concentration than one would have thought. So I drew my scarf close around my face to shield it from the sand thrown up from the wheels of the quad in front of me, leaned over the handle bars and assumed the stance of Evil Knievel. It worked, both practically (I was gliding over the sand) and psychologically -- I was totally absorbed in the ride, I was the ultimate in cool.
One of the Italians succeeded in running into the only tree in the desert -- literally. But after you get the hang of it you can keep out of the stream of dust produced by other bikes and focus some of your attention on the beauty around you. Suddenly, out of nowhere, we were at an impromptu traffic intersection, with another group of quads crossing our path. Although it was clear we should wait until they passed and give them the right of way, my Cairene driving ethics took the better of me and I crossed anyway. At one point I spied the moon rolling its way across the sky, but a couple of body-shattering bumps reminded me that this was not the moon-gazing type of desert trip. Well, another time.
We passed mother and baby camels, went up and down dunes, were given a 15-minute break to walk up a small hill and enjoy the view, and let loose for 10 minutes in a Beduin village (a small, desert shanty town) where I showed the child how to run goats.
Towards the end of the ride we were taken to another quad depot, where a "traditional Beduin tent" was set up. Here we were treated to small glasses of very sweet tea. At this "traditional" meeting point there are bathrooms "with flushes and everything" exclaimed the friend in awe. They were preparing the tent for dinner: a catering bus was winding its way with "traditional" food from a five-star hotel and our guide giggled at our looks of disbelief as he told us such "Bedouin parties" were very popular with tourists.
The child had a great big smile on his face when we were done -- actually we all did. The various groups of quadrunner amateurs vaguely resembled misplaced bike gangs, somehow sitting here in the desert drinking tea.
We made the final stretch in the dark, and our guide allowed me to park mine all the way inside the garage. It may not have been what I would have chosen to do in the desert, but the child was right -- quads are great fun.
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