thelongandwindingblog

the end of the road (huw and rose)

huw-and-rose — Sun, 17 Apr 2011 00:00:00 GMT

The blog has been left unattended for some time now - a very long gap, even for us. The reason neither of us have felt like writing, or even remembered that this site existed, is because we've been going through an exceedingly tough personal time. We separated in February. This is a very hard thing to write and explain. We've felt loved and supported by family and friends, but it is still a very difficult and lonely time for us both.

We are both still in Jordan at the moment, partly due to new work commitments, partly due to the truck's requirements. The tyres we bought turned out to be rated at 30kmph max so we've had to have some more shipped over from the UK and these are proving very difficult to get through customs. The overall situation is not helped by the current uncertainty and civil unrest in Syria - though at least there are visa stamps in our passports now.

Our plans are currently unsure. Huw has to continue his journey in the truck as the paperwork is all in his name. Rose will continue her journey too, but it seems that we will not be together anymore.

Our paths are uncertain and will no doubt, one day take us home. But for this blog, which was built on dreams that have so sadly run their course, this is the end of the road.

new country new look (rose)

huw-and-rose — Thu, 10 Feb 2011 14:11:00 GMT

Wanda's in the mood for a makeover. Not only is she sporting some sexy new rubber, she's also had a tattoo. While I was on my little jaunt to Zanzibar at Christmas (meeting old friends and revisiting the school I'd taught at over 10 years ago), Huw arranged for our painter friend Khaled back in Dahab to be let loose with his brushes. He wrote 'salama aleikum' in Arabic on the doors, and added some of his trademark camels along her flank. She now looks far less intimidating, which can only be a good thing as we travel through the Middle East in these troubled times.

More at thelongandwinding

welcome to... (huw)

huw-and-rose — Thu, 10 Feb 2011 13:07:00 GMT

We've been living in Arabic countries now for nearly a year and one thing keeps happening, almost every day. It happened again today, this morning, as we were walking up a hill in Amman, past a barber's shop where men were being shaved and others were waiting to be shaved. One man, sat outside, was chatting to a friend and looked at us as we passed, he caught me eye, smiled and said, "Welcome to Jordan".

The country name has changed over the past months but the sentiment hasn't. We are constantly being greeted and welcomed as guests by people in the street even though we are just tourists. Does this happen in Britain? Does this happen anywhere in the West? When have you ever extended spontaneous greetings to a tourist. I never have.

I love being in the Arab world because of moments like this: being made to feel welcome. It may be a cultural conditioning that prompts people to do it, a morphed manifestation of the age old Bedouin tradition of extending hospitality to travellers, but the effect is explosively positive. This morning, preoccupied with thoughts about a business meeting, struggling up a steep hill, I was suddenly exchanging warm spontaneous smiles with someone I would meet for only a few seconds. It changed my day.

as you wish (rose)

huw-and-rose — Thu, 10 Feb 2011 11:58:00 GMT

Classic moment the other day when we stopped at a roadside 'kowich' shop in Petra to have our old tyres switched for the shiny new ones we found in Amman.

[After usual exchange of greetings, pleasantries, oohs and aahs at the truck...]
Us: Can you change our old tyres for our new ones?
Him: Yes, of course.
Us: Great, tamam. How much please? Bikam?
Him: [shrugging his shoulders] As you wish.
Us: Oh no, no, no. Please give us a price.
Him: As you wish.
Us: Any price. Just give us an idea.
Him: As you wish.
Us: [looking at each other] OK...10 JD. Tamam?
Him: [shaking his head] No, no, no. 25 JD, OK.

May the haggling commence.

so what happens now? (rose)

huw-and-rose — Tue, 8 Feb 2011 18:04:00 GMT

So here we are in Jordan. It's been a hell of a week.

First off, we had to deal with leaving Dahab and our friends there. Hard enough under normal circumstances, but harder still in the midst of unrest and uncertainty. It wasn't easy, at all, and I still want to be there very, very much. But Wanda can't re-enter Egypt for another 5 months - plus with things as they currently are, it's hardly advisable - so push on we must.

Second, we had tyre issues. Mooshkila kabeera: big problem. Wander wears unusual tyres (9.00/16s for those interested) and potentially lethal cracks have been appearing in the rear right one, growing at a frightening rate and increasing in number with every km we drive. It's impossible to say how long the others will last, but after 10 years - and 30,000km - they're pretty well worn. Our spares are shot as well. Basically, we needed new tyres. Three weeks ago, we thought we'd adequately anticipated the issue when Huw ordered new ones from Cairo to Aqaba, but within days it became apparent that shipping tyres to some bloody hippies in Jordan would, rightly so, be very far from the top of the priority list for anyone in the Egyptian capital. We called and visited about 25 tyre shops in Aqaba and Amman and to our amazement, found just what we were looking for. (These ones, again, only if you're interested.) Tyres: tick.

Next up, visa issues. On Sunday morning, we went to Syrian embassy to request visas. The response was a polite but very firm No. Absolutely not. No chance. Not on your nelly. No visas given out to anyone who has an embassy in their home country. We have 4 choices:

1) reassess our route out of the Middle East. Hmm. These are the countries that border us here in Jordan:

Iraq: not keen.
Saudi Arabia: ditto. Plus we'd have to get married to enter. Plus I couldn't drive there. Plus it would only lead to Yemen, Oman, Qatar or UAE. So that's out.
Egypt: not able to re-enter for 5 months.
Israel: not an option. Ferries from there to Greece aren't running and once we have an Israeli stamp in our passports, Syria is definitely out.
So Syria it is: beautiful, good food, and on the way home. Yes please.

Other options to get into Syria:

2) try our luck at the border - unlikely as a British bloke was turned away just the other day.
3) achieve temporary Jordanian residency - not as crazy as it sounds, and actually might be possible given the people we're meeting.
4) get our visas from the embassy in London - have a plan but it's not strictly legal, so trying to avoid this.

Where are those car wings again?

So it's been a challenging (and expensive) week, but all made far easier by the sheer beauty and scale of Wadi Rum, the mysticism of Petra by candlelight, the charm of Amman, several opportunities for exciting writing/proofing/teaching work, and by the presence of the delightfully infectious Maggie who I'd met at El Salam in Dahab and who travelled with us from Aqaba to Amman. On Sunday she left for Ethiopia as she continues on her world tour: follow her at www.girlventures.net.

The challenges continue but for now we're upbeat and excited to be travelling and working in this fascinating, beautiful country, where the people vocally love their King (refreshing!) and welcome us into their homes and lives with incredible warmth and hospitality.

Here's Huw in Wadi Rum. More photos and more soon up at thelongandwinding.

the two campervaners of the apocalypse (huw)

huw-and-rose — Sun, 6 Feb 2011 23:59:00 GMT

We leave the UK, the Tories take power and predictably myopically create a double-dip recession that is both unnecessary and excruciating.

We travel through the tranquil country of Tunisia and less than a year later more than two hundred people have been killed in nationwide unrest that has seen a dictator ousted, but no peace restored.

After seven wonderful months living as locals in Egypt, the country erupts into a revolution that currently teeters on the knife edge of ushering in a new era or being crushed by the depressing juggernaught of a criminally corrupt cabal that has held power for 60 years and could, depressingly, claw its way back to total control.

Africa was a possible direction once, but then Sudan's internal crisis meant that wasn't an option as the British Embassy wouldn't support a visa application to a country on the brink of breaking into two.

So now we are in Jordan. So far it is peaceful, but there are murmurs of discontent here too. Widespread support for a King who is a ruler and not a figurehead may prevent an uprising, but prices are crippling and unemployment curses too many people for there not to be disquiet.

North of here and on our desired route lies Lebanon, teetering on the brink of another civil war. If it erupts, Syria will be sucked in to some extent. Not that that immediately effects us: we can't get a Syrian visa. The embassy here said that we can only get one from London. Not an easy problem to solve, but one we must because if we don't we are stuck. Having us two Jonahs trapped here won't be good news for Jordan.

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goodbye egypt (rose)

huw-and-rose — Wed, 2 Feb 2011 20:36:00 GMT

It was certainly never part of the original plan, but Egypt became our home for seven months. That glorious, sweltering first month in Siwa oasis, good times in Alex, Cairo and at the ecofarm in Ras Sudr, and then of course five heavenly months in Dahab. After all that time it was hard to leave: I'd fallen in love with the Bedouin way of life, the Egyptian people and friends from all over the world. My Egyptian Arabic was just starting to get good, and the life I'd made and the abundant opportunities there all threatened to hold me for even longer.
But we have left as we said we would, at the end of January - amidst a modern-day revolution. Again, not part of the plan, but nothing rarely is.

As untold numbers marched in the capital, our last week in Dahab was a strange and unsettling one with no internet access nationwide and all Cairo mobiles down, so no way to contact our friends there. We all seemed to walk about in a daze, fuelled by rumours of events elsewhere in the country, and snatching any rare chance to watch TV and see the latest events unfolding.

We felt totally safe, but the pull of moving on, getting back in contact, and of course rejoining Wanda the wondertruck, were just too great. Feelings ripped us apart. On the 31st, as we boarded the ferry to 'escape' to Jordan, Huw was longing to be in Cairo in the heart of the action doing his journalistic duty, and I was devastated at the feeling of letting down those left behind. But we knew we had to go, if only for the fear of the slim possibility of being unable to reach our truck if the situation worsened and the ferries were stopped.

So here we are: safe, as well as can be expected, and in Aqaba, with Jordan waiting to be explored (again) and Syria luring us from the north. More soon...

PS - trouble is following us. King Abdulla of Jordan yesterday sacked his entire parliament. If only our truck had wings. Perhaps we could pour Red Bull into the petrol tank?

Here is one of the last photos I took in Dahab on a beautifully warm winter's day, looking over the Red Sea to Saudi Arabia and, several km off the photo, up the coast to the left, Jordan, where we now are:

news report (rose)

huw-and-rose — Fri, 28 Jan 2011 07:52:00 GMT

I read the news today, oh boy. It seems the recent Tunisian troubles are spreading. For two days, the people here in Egypt have showed their anger at the rising food prices, high unemployment and governmental corruption at protests on the streets of cities throughout the country. Thankfully until now there has been no trouble in the Dahab bubble but it's close enough for discomfort; two protestors were killed the day before yesterday, just over the other side of the peninsula in Suez.

The same day, we celebrated Graeme and Valesca's wedding at the stunning Castle Zaman, nestled into the mountainside and overlooking the sea. The fairytale ceremony, banquet and beach party reception passed with dreamlike perfection, and the international crowd - Brits and Germans, Egyptians and Bedouins, and others from Serbia, Croatia, France, Russia - all turned out to wish 'Big G and Little V' a happy and prosperous life together. After such a brief friendship, we felt honoured to be there and to share in their love.

It was the culmination of a busy week: our neighbours Jay and Marsha had a little boy (welcome to the world little Lewis) and the next night a lightening storm raged over town, causing our water pump plug to melt/explode, and rain to gush in through the window of our spare room. H and I stood at the door for an hour, marvelling at the endless buckets tipping from the sky and trying to capture the lightening forks on camera. The next few days I turned into a kitchen queen baking banana bread and carrot cake like there was no tomorrow, and the sun returned with a welcome vengeance; I spent glorious afternoons taking a break from work, sunbathing and smoking shisha on the roof of El Salam yoga camp with Katie.

So apart from the freak rain storm and despite the unrest elsewhere in the country, life in Dahab for now remains blissful. But still I'm feeling frightened, and unsettled. Facebook has been closed down as of a couple of hours ago: may seem a small thing but it's added to my sense of being cut off and vulnerable. As rumours and leaks abound about similar troubles in other countries in this area, we are keeping a very close eye on the news, and preparing ourselves with some Plan Bs in case danger hits where we are or where we are going. We'll take each day as it comes and enjoy the happy moments - and keep eyes and ears wide open.

More photos etc at www.thelongandwinding.co.uk

streets of glue (rose)

huw-and-rose — Sun, 16 Jan 2011 03:23:00 GMT

I won't call it a new year's resolution, as that would mean it had been broken before it had even begun, it being mid-January already somehow (where do the days go?) but I do intend to write this blog more often in 2011. I manage most day to find time to sit, meditate, stretch, cook something nice, do some work, learn some new Arabic words, have a meeting or go to a yoga class, dive, reply to emails, check facebook, and even write my diary, but sitting down and catching up on this site just hasn't been a priority.

But the times they are a-changin' and we'll soon be on the road again, scratching our itchy feet (plus we're getting more than a few inquisitive emails as to our whereabouts and movements) so we'd best let you know what's going on.

Our mates in Brighton know how prolonged our UK departure was. Well, history appears to be repeating itself here in Dahab - we love the place - and the people - so much, it's been hard to leave. Another town with streets of glue.

After our epic desert trip with the Sand Rovers back in November, we spent a few days in Cairo hanging out with Egyptian friends and 'doing the tourist thing' at the Pyramids, the souk, and the Egyptian Museum, which I adored and spent hours in, swotting up, making notes and sketches of pieces that caught my eye.

But when we returned to Dahab it really felt like we were 'coming home'.

So much here reminds me of Brighton - the happy hippie vibe, the colourful handmade ramshackleness of it all, the sea - but of course, as always, it's about the people. The El Salam yoga family, our neighbours, our fellow barmen at Blue Beach, our friends from Dive Urge, Bedouin Moon, Adventure Spot, Poseidon... Khaled the (very talented) artist and his family...

Yet again, stopping somewhere long enough to get to know a community has confirmed that the world is a beautiful place filled with pure, generous, life-affirming souls.

We're tying up our loose ends, saying our goodbyes, and looking forward to our friends Graeme and Valesca's wedding in 10 days, then we'll be out of excuses - onwards and upwards to Jordan, Syria, Lebanon, Turkey...

On a practical note, any overlanders out there may be wondering how we've managed to stay in Egypt over 6 months without overstaying our visas. We ourselves have been out and in again, and got extensions whenever necessary, but of course the truck's paperwork has been another matter. (Incidentally, 'the truck' is now, finally, several months in, officially named WANDA!)

There was no extending Wanda's visa beyond the 6 months however, and we risked having her impounded if she overstayed her welcome by just one day. So once the decision was made to stay for just...one...more...month, just before I skipped off to Zanzibar at Christmas for a trip down memory lane (more about that in another blog probably), Huw then had to remove her from the country, and return on foot. So Wanda is currently sat, all lonesome, in a campsite near Aqaba in Jordan, safe and sound inshallah, until we return to pick her up and drive her off.

More stories and photos at our website www.thelongandwinding.co.uk

rover roaming (rose)

huw-and-rose — Wed, 1 Dec 2010 10:19:00 GMT

For six days, eight of us drove south from Cairo, along the Bahariya oasis road, turning off after 200km into the desert. Like, properly into the desert. Like, not another living soul to be seen desert. (Well, for the most part.) Like, dunes and rocky crevasses and craggy escarpments and digging each others' wheels out of deep sand and using sand-ladders desert. Real fun stuff.

It was amazing: one of the best things I've ever done. And that's now saying something, as I no longer say that about everything, becoming as I am more discerning and picky as I rapidly approach 30.

We drove like maniacs over sand and rocks, through an area affectionately known as 'The Molehills' (the first 50m rocky molehills I'd ever seen) and down a sudden steep 3km decline, ominously known as 'The Descent', down which I very nearly rolled our adopted car. We visited Roman forts, frozen in time by the dry climate, the Valley of the Whales. Honestly, whale bones, in the desert. Brilliant.

It was a dream come true for Land Rover geeks, as H is fast becoming; even I now not only recognise but appreciate the beauty of the sound of a V8 engine revving at 4000rpm. What has happened to me?! Four LRs carried us (plus firewood, tents, chairs, tables, gourmet food, endless beers, and eight bottles of Scotch - this was no ordinary camping trip) from Cairo and back again. Our own beloved LR was safely tucked up back in Dahab; she wouldn't have been able to keep up with the speeds this lot go! We all switched around but generally this was the set-up:

Bella the white Defender 110 300TDI - driven mostly by Canadian Darrell, the mastermind of this particular expedition, and Mohammed the mechanic. These being Land Rovers, his impressive skills were called on a few times per day.
Leeroy the beige 109 300TDI - driven entirely by Sue, Darrell's Alabama wife and creator of the nightly culinary delights, accompanied by her best pal Andy, a teacher, historian, art collector, interior designer.
Defender 110 2.8TGV - driven mostly by the lovable Sami the Finn and Richard from Land Rover Monthly magazine, flown over for the trip from a freezing UK.
Lyle the dark green V8 90 - driven mostly by us! Well, by H, but I did take the wheel occasionally and enjoyed the 'technical sections' over jagged rocks but couldn't keep up with the big boys on the fast sand sections.

Mostly, I felt tiny and inconsequential - as long periods of time in the vastness of nature have a habit of making you feel - but also, contradictorily, strangely empowered by the whole experience.

I'm sure H will want to elaborate on this rather short and sketchy description of a wonderful week - plus you will be able to read all about it in the February 2011 edition of Land Rover Monthly magazine, out from the 2nd week of January in all good newsagents. We'll email a reminder!

One photo here to whet your appetite. Many more to follow soon.

mal and john and a jordan jaunt (rose)

huw-and-rose — Sun, 28 Nov 2010 19:03:00 GMT

When I returned from the yoga safari, Huw's mum and dad had already relaxed into Dahab life, though suffering a little from the heat. Lucky they hadn't come a month earlier when temperatures were high in the 30s!

They stayed with us over a week; I won't write too much about their time with us, as, if he ever gets round to writing a blog, H will probably want to write about that. Suffice to say, it was of course brilliant to see them, and to offer them the retreat they so needed. They did both get sick, but only for a day each and we still managed to squeeze in the undeniable highlight: three days in Jordan, which H organised spectacularly.

I'll keep it short. The ferry from Taba was quick and relatively hassle-free, but rough. We hired a car and that night wandered through Petra's 'siq' (canyon entrance) by candlelight: a paper lantern placed every metre for nearly 2km (you do the maths) and at the end, hundreds of them lit up the magnificent Treasury that marks the entrance to the mystical city of Petra. We drank hot sweet tea, and sat on mats allowing the live Bedouin music to wash over us - and send me to sleep. We all staggered back the 2km uphill to bed in a sleepy haze.

The next day we revisited Petra by day. Mal and John couldn't believe it was the same walk we'd done the night before, it all felt so different. Again we were all blown away by it all; Huw and I too even though we'd both visited in previous years. We met Marguerite, a New Zealand lady H had interviewed for Responsible Travel, who in 1978, at 22, visited Petra as a tourist and never left, marrying one of the local men, and bringing up their three children in a cave. If you're interested in her fascinating story, she has written a book, 'Married to a Bedouin'.

That evening we arrived at Wadi Rum. Dark skies and small swirling sandstorms almost made us continue past the wadi and on to Aqaba but something told us to stop; the sky cleared after an amazing meal and live music at Mzeid's camp, and we were treated to a blanket of stars (including a shooting one that everyone saw but me!) as we'd hoped.

The next day we were treated to a 4x4 ride to pre-historic rock carvings of camels and horses, canyons to climb through and rock bridges to climb over. As we drove, the colours of the landscape changed from pinks and purples to grey to orange. Mal and John were astounded by the valley's beauty, and it felt so good to share it with them. A smooth, speedy boat voyage back to Sinai, where Mal and John prepared to fly back to the UK and H and I to Cairo where our next adventure awaited us.

Below you can see Petra by candlelight but there are lots more pictures of our three days in Jordan - and of course more about our trip and truck at thelongandwinding.

a reflective ride (rose)

huw-and-rose — Sat, 20 Nov 2010 18:56:00 GMT

For three all-too-brief days I took a yoga safari with El Salam Camp. There were 10 of us, plus our teacher Dakini, two puppies to be found a home, and four Bedouins to lead the way, tend the camels and make camp.

It was a magic time, and couldn't have come at a better moment for me. The scenery was stunning, the early morning meditation sublime, the company impeccable, and the nights - laid out under a million stars under a soft thick blanket - refreshingly chilly. We all could have stayed together longer but there were planes to catch and appointments to keep: the real world crept in. Nevertheless, I know we all took something special from those three days together, the gift of a moment's peace in a hectic world (and yes, even Dahab can feel hectic if you're not careful!), and space, far from everything, to breathe and reflect.

I wrote a silly poem for the group, which in no way does the journey justice:

Our gorgeous young group of 15
The cutest that Dahab has seen
All set off one day
On camels, they say
To Ras Abu Galum, and a dream.

We did things that made us all smile:
Made campfires and snorkelled a while,
Topped up our tans,
Discussed our life plans,
And hiked for many a mile.

After some hardcore yoga too,
We hula'ed, admiring the view.
Oh how lucky we are
To wish on a star:
I hope all your dreams become true.

Here is Amy on her camel. Click here for photos of the safari and El Salam Camp.

real life (rose)

huw-and-rose — Mon, 1 Nov 2010 12:58:00 GMT

Dahab has sucked us in. Life here has become 'normal' as normal can be, though to be honest, like living in Brighton, 'normal' feels a bit like living one big holiday. We still have the luxury of not having a routine - of course that makes me slightly crave one. That hasn't meant we haven't been working hard, and there's lots more in the pipeline for us both too. This week, Huw has been happily swamped in work (always either drought or flood for him, the curse of being freelance) with deadlines looming, but money trickling in. Since my parents left, I've been taking care of the ridiculously charming Isaac, a five year old with Autism and dyspraxia. Tonight I played the role of acting manager at Chillax restaurant, an experience which, despite the joy on every customer's face when when saw their food arrive and their gushing comments as they each left, succeeded in quashing my previously romantic notions of owning and running my own restaurant some day.

We've been playing hard too: more and more yoga for me, a night dive together (my first, since and aborted attempt in Sharm due to excruciating ear pain) and plenty of hilarious nights at the Furry Cup, both sides of the bar.

I had a very special time with mum and dad when they visited. We achieved the perfect mix of activity (exhausting treks through stunning canyons, snorkelling, cycling, yoga and chi-gong classes, off-road drive in our neglected truck and BBQ in the mountains) and relative inactivity (talking, laughing, crying, eating). Dad was only out for four days, the same as Nicola, and as was the case with her it didn't feel nearly long enough, though of course incomparably better than nothing. And mum and I had 10 days together: those on facebook (is anyone NOT?) can see some pictures here.

Tomorrow I'm off into the wilderness for a three day yoga/meditation camel safari with my friends from El Salam Camp (life sucks) and we're ready for our next visitors: Huw's parents arrive early on Tuesday morning.

More soon, and will put more Dahab/Sinai photos up too, but for now here's me last week, outside our apartment with its very pretty door:

work hard play hard (rose)

huw-and-rose — Sun, 3 Oct 2010 18:35:00 GMT

So it seems we're not too good at the road trip element of our road trip: too easily lured into life in beautiful places, and enjoying putting down some roots for a while. 'Nesting', some might say, but I say nay: merely 'resting'. We've now been in Dahab for who knows how many weeks, with intentions to stay until at least mid-November. Our little apartment is air-conditioned and basic, with two bedrooms, an adopted cat and no more cockroaches.

What are we doing here? It's not all diving and shisha-smoking that's for sure. Well, some diving yes, but no loafing allowed: gotta earn a buck.

So I'm working a few shifts a week at the brilliantly-named Furry Cup beach bar (probably not one for the CV!): sand between my toes, water lapping the shore just metres away, local characters, crazies, and self-confessed 'professional beach bums' propping up the bar. Never, ever, a dull moment.

Yoga, which has been bubbling away in the background for years, has become a far bigger part of my life. I've been practicing - and helping out on reception and in the pretty rooms - at the hugely inspirational El Salam Camp (also on facebook). Together, Dakini, Amy and the rest of the El Salam family have created something magical in that space, and after a three-hour class under the stars, in the warm Dahab breeze, I am always moved to tears.

What else? We've been doing the marketing (including creating this website) for the hottest, newest restaurant in town, Chillax, a divine little sanctuary in a secret alley just off the main boulevard. It's run by the charming Bron from NZ, and the gourmet burgers she makes are to die for, which is just as well, as we get paid in them!

And in return for our next dive qualification, the Rescue Diver course, we have replaced the very tired website for Adventure Spot dive centre (see it here, but not for long) with this swanky new one.

Huw is finding plenty to write about, and has some more stories commissioned. He's also making a promotional film for our friends at Dive Urge.

And for a delicious free meal, I found myself proof-reading the new menu for Ali at Mirage. I did it quickly and I did thoroughly, but it made me a little sad: was I really depriving future Mirage customers of the delight in seeing 'muchroom' and 'green and red paper' on the pizza menu? I've since decided that menu-proofing is ethically wrong, and won't be doing any more of that.

Amongst all this, we have a string of friends and family joining us, sharing our 'journey'. Alex was the first, and I've missed him dearly since he left. Lisa and Tone have been here a week, and don't ever want to leave, and Nicola and Tom arrived yesterday for a long weekend, and are settled and currently snoozing soundly in our spare room. Next out, my amazing folks, then Huw's too, in early November.

So for now, the road is not so long and not so winding (though we take our lonely beast out for spins and BBQs in the mountains every now and then to stretch her legs and stop her feeling too rejected). But it's glorious to have a place to call 'home' for a while.

Route, photos and more at www.thelongandwinding.co.uk

The Furry Cup bar, Dahab:

3 punctures, 2 Koreans and a night under the stars (guest blog by alex)

huw-and-rose — Sun, 12 Sep 2010 19:38:00 GMT

Rose's great friend Al recently joined us here in Dahab for a week. Since we've been especially lax about writing the blog recently, he kindly stepped in and offered these words.

A flight full of idiots is worth it if you are greeted in arrivals by the infallibly happy Rose Allett. A short hop through the mountains thanks to our trusty driver Walid and we are in Dahab - a charming, dusty little desert town on the southeast coast of the Sinai Peninsula.

We catch up with Huw at the house and a walk through town, a roadside 'meat' burger and a cold beer on the beachfront was all it took - within seconds my spine had melted, London was forgotten and I felt like I had been here a month. An evening of gossip, of that smugness you get from being somewhere other than England and of tales from Rose and Huw's long and winding road ensued. Sufficiently fed, watered and reacquainted we head home.

The next morning, my first glimpses of Dahab by daylight. The name itself, rather quaintly, is Arabic for 'gold' and with a glance from Rose and Huw's balcony that morning it was easy to see why. Sea the bluey green colour you feel it always should be, Saudi Arabia looking distant but serious on the horizon, goats, camels, Egyptians and Bedouin all going about their daily business, the mountains surrounding us, the desert, the sand, the sun all contributing to a constant golden hue.

I hire a bike to keep up with Rose and Huw, and we explore. I manage to get three punctures in two days. I start to think I am the unfortunate victim of some kind of TV show, perhaps the Egyptian version of Jeremy Beadle is about to emerge, remove his beard and we will all laugh at my preconceived peril. Alas no, but thank you to Huw for efficiently fixing me up 3 times over all the same.

Rose and Huw proudly show off the town they know so well. The sun is relentless, and the town deserted between midday and four - you simply do not stray from the safety of the shade. We stop for a lemon juice on the sea front and I begin to see more and more why this town works so well. The sea breeze is strong, sometimes warm, but on the whole it saves you - it cools you enough to get around. The sea front is developed, a little more than I expected, perhaps a little more than I had hoped but nothing that detracts. It's always disappointing to be offered a full English, anywhere in the world, even England usually for me, but I found myself very easily justifying the balance, much as the town does itself. The comfort and convenience of a few nice bars and cafes is a lot easier to take in your stride when, if you continue that same stride just a few paces away from the sea you are instantly in the hubbub of Egyptian and Bedouin life, just a few more and you are in the desert.

As the town continues to perfectly balance sleepiness and bustle, so do we. Huw is off to Sharm for a couple of days to write a piece on the fascinating SS Thistlegorm so Rose and I skilfully combine cycling and diving with lounging and nattering. Our first monumental adventure takes place in the fittingly epic Mount Sinai. This is a mountain with pedigree. It's where Moses received the ten commandments. It's where the burning bush burned. It's where Rose and Alex redefined the concept of physical exertion, well for us anyway. We are driven from Dahab to a Bedouin outpost, arriving around midnight. Our travelling companions a rather austere Korean couple. We take tea with the family, discuss their Bedouin heritage via broken English, Rose's increasingly impressive Arabic and no Korean before heading out into the night. We have a moonlit four hour ascent through the night to a 2285 metre peak ahead of us. The wily Koreans opt to travel by camel, the intrepid/adventurous/naive/just plain silly Brits pluckily opt to travel by foot.

Well, it kept us warm. I will give it that. As the Koreans froze aboard their lofty, humpy carriers, Rose and I slaved away beneath them, always warm, always breathless. But it was oh so worth it. Delirious, oxygen starved and exhausted we arrive at Sinai's peak minutes before the sun begins its miraculous daily climb. As the glow on the horizon sharpens into the recognisable peak of our star, Jomaar (our faithful Bedouin guide), Oscar (a nomadic Catalan we picked up along the way), Rose and I can't but help clap, cheer and agree that every single, painful step was worth it. Awe inspiring doesn't do it justice, breathtaking is nowhere close and ethereal just seems too small. It is just simply stunning and has to be achieved to be believed.

Perhaps it was the exhaustion and the thin air, but looking down to the path we had just walked, and could now see in daylight for the first time, to the sun beginning its daily commute and to the endless crystal clear blue above it, it really was one of those moments where you have those feelings that you are a little shy to tell everyone else about back home about, but you know you will never forget.

A gentle 6km stroll down the 'short side' of the mountain we have just scaled, a drive to Dahab, a suitably brief goodbye to our Korean compadres and we are home. It's one of those days just built for lounging - no sleep, the aftermath of huge physical exertion, the pummelling heat. So we decide to… move house. Rose and Huw's nomadic existence may be less transitory than usual at the moment, but blagging beautiful apartments for free comes at a price - and this time that price was cleaning up and moving on for the next paying customer. Suffice to say it was a long, hard and very sweaty day.

A couple of days relaxing and it's nearly time to go home. My week has felt like months to the extent that the madness of London is now almost impossible to imagine. Mission accomplished. But there's time for one last adventure. After sunset we drive into the desert, we are met by our Bedouin guide Mohammed, we drink tea, we chat, we laugh at his claim of 'I know William' when we mention Shakespeare and then we sleep beneath the stars. That's it. The silent desert expanding endlessly around us, the stars and their tails seeming to light the night sky more and more as the night grows older and the desert wind, as if on a thermostat, gently blowing hot and cold always at the right time.

Sleeping outside is good for the soul. It seems to centre you and remind you that we are all wild things underneath it all. Falling asleep in the darkness of the desert, and being woken hours later in the searing heat seems the most natural thing to do. Nature's alarm clock, nature's rules. With this in mind, we head back to Dahab. Some last minute shopping, a last minute Sakara beer and it's back to Sharm for my flight home. A wondrous town, a perfect few days - I return home refreshed and inspired.

Photos of Alex's week are now on facebook.

Similar photos (including some more) are here.

Route, photos and more at www.thelongandwinding.co.uk