Spectacular Sinai

I arrived in St Katherine in the dark happy for a shower and rest. It was only when I woke up in the morning that I realized the beauty of the place I had landed in. The village is cradled between stunning mountains and ridges. The road dead-ends here. The sky is of an intense blue and cloudless and the ridges change from pink to golden to orange at the sun's mercy. The houses in the village are made of the local stone, low and flat, blending perfectly into the landscape. There is very little vegetation, but the care and love the people tender their trees and little plants with is amazing. The "work horse" here is the camel, and camels are happy, too, for anything green. So you see little plants and trees fenced up for protection.
There is a small mosque in the village and the prayers encompass the whole valley as the mountains make the warm beautiful sound reverberate. I enjoyed the mornings with the bird twittering and the prayers waking the village to life as the sun was rising from behind the ridges.

The bedouin camp was beautiful and quiet. I can only recommend the place warmly. I actually liked it so much that I stayed 3 days instead of just one.
Here at camp I met a lovely girl from Cairo. Lubna is a journalist, a smart and open-minded person with already some very interesting and serious professional experience. I enjoyed her company and I hope to some day read the book she would like to write. I wished I had met her in Cairo, her home town, but who knows, maybe I'll return to Cairo sooner than I think...


To the St. Katherine monastery some 3.5 km away I walked and I didn't mind it. I traversed the village and admired the scenery. I took it all in at my pace, even stopping for pictures on the way. The old Greek Orthodox Monastery was founded in the 4th Century BC. With its millenia of history, its superb location and its biblical importance it is a place that attracts not just the faithful pilgrims but also a lot of tourists on their way through Sinai. Therefore, it is crowded.
The chapel is small and not overloaded with ikons and such. The ancient carved wooden doors are splendid. I liked all that and I liked the little orchard well taken care of and the benches and small walls you could sit on in the shade of the very old olive trees.

The monastery is situated at the foot of Mount Sinai, where the Ten Commandments were given to Moses by God. Hence its name - Jebel Musa, ie Moses' Mountain. The mountain itself is not visible from the monastery being hidden behind a closer ridge but climbing it is a must for anybody visiting the place.

There are 2 routes going up the mountain: the gradual Camel Trail and the steep Stairway of Repentance. I intended to go up the stairway and come down the other way. But I missed the start of the stairway as I was too focused on avoiding all the questioning about where I came from, where I stayed and where my guide was. Of course I did not have a guide and I was prepared to stay overnight, carrying 3+ liters of water, my sleeping bag, magic carpet, camera and tripod.

The way up the camel trail was easy and gentle. it offered sweeping views of the surrounding area, ridges upon ridges of the same pink baren mountains. Petrified dunes, mountains talking about folds and torments, mountains crumbling down slowly and spectacularly.

The Camel Trail is dotted by many rest-houses, places where you can stop for a drink or snack and where you can rest. Carrying water and so much weight in the top heat of the day seemed a stupidity. But I had all this scenery and the views for myself. Nobody was coming up or going down at this time. Mind you, I had started shortly after 12:30pm and it was scorching hot. But I took my time and once I hit the 2000m high Elijah's Basin I stopped and explored the area. The views were only getting better. On the way up I had noticed a couple chapels perched high up on steep slopes with a zigzagging trail leading up to them. Were they closer to God up there? Not sure, but certainly more isolated and most likely requiring some faith to go up there.

The higher I got the more spectacular the views. But, at the same time, the bigger my disappointment and anger. The last stretch, ie the last 200m elevation or so, was littered by garbage bins and little shacks as well as the locked wooden boxes that once open turn into small souvenir stalls. Then there were blankets and mattresses all over the place. The keepers of the little shops were renting them out for the night to the tourists/pilgrims coming up. There was too much commercialism here. And too much garbage. There was no way to take a picture without some bin or roof in it. Was this really the top of the mountain, the place you would come as a pilgrim? I felt terribly disappointed by the lack of holiness of this place, at least judging by the sight. But I had the place to myself all afternoon and I tried to apply my aquired skill: to focus on the views and their beauty and try to refrain from letting disappointment and frustration take over. And the views were mindblowing. To the West only the peak of Mt. Katherine at over 2600m was higher, and all around there was this sea of mountains and ridges, from close by to the distant horizon. It was incredible and beautiful. I let their spell work on me.

I set up my tripod and took pictures until the sun set and then the dusk gave way to the night. It was already dark when suddenly I could hear distant chanting. It was Orthodox chanting from the monastery carried away by the warm air, facilitated by the silence around and amplified by the echoes. It was a magical experience.
I had already picked a spot and laid out my mat and sleeping bag about 100m below the summit. I enjoyed a sandwich and then wrote in my diary for a while and read some more Arabian stories. I actually finished the book up here. I fell asleep gazing at the stars...
But it wasn't really a good night's sleep. People started coming up and moving around way before midnight. The main bulk started to arrive after 2am. At least I was warm and comfortable in my sleeping bag and only got up around 4:30am.
By the time the sun rose from behind the dozens of ridges there were dozens of people on the top. Maybe a couple hundred. Some were here gathered around their priests and they had a short ceremony afterwards. But the different songs and gospels sung by groups and even some (Korean ?) nuns were not just beautiful but also felt appropriate. There was silence and peacefulness as everybody was waiting for the sun to come up. The ridges were like layers in various shades of grey then brown, the more distant the lighter.
It was a special emotional experience, hard for me to describe in words and even images. There was curiosity, interest that drove people up there but there was definitley also faith, a deep moving faith for some of those who had struggled to get up there.

I started my descent along with others but then I stopped to let everybody go in order to have the trail and mountain for myself. I preferred it that way and enjoyed the stairway at a slow pace with stops and side explorations.

After Mt Sinai and the St. Katherine monastery there was still a lot to see in the area. Walking and camel treks were possible in the area but they all required a guide and the costs were not that small. But I was curious to see more and so I walked up a couple of ridges around the village and enjoyed the views at sunset.
And then, since I had detailed trail descriptions printed off the internet I dared go on my own. It wasn't anything difficult at all, but I was stressed about being stopped and asked what I was doing alone in those areas. Nevertheless, I went.

The valleys in between the ridges are called wadis. They are ancient river beds. During rains they also turn into flood beds. Their width and size varies from very narrow to hundreds of meters wide. They can also surprise you, clueless tourist. The descriptions I had were mentioning orchards and it somehow didn't make sense.
The area was so dry, the terrain so crumbly and sandy, and yet...

The wadi no further than behind the first ridge around the village was long and narrow and hosting several orchards. The delicate fresh green was in stark contrast to the rock and valley walls. Yet they were surviving and thriving and I could see apple and pomegranate trees amoung others. Then there were lots of herbs growing wild in the dusty soil. I was gently rubbing their leaves and then sniffing my hand. Lovely!
I discovered the well, not more than 2 little pools carved in rock. The water was dripping slowly down the rock wall and collecting into these pools. That was it. The marvel of nature.

An old bedouin came along the wadi and he asked me through gestures what I was doing there. Also through gestures I explained that I came from El Milga (the actual name of the bedouin village) and going back there. He nodded.
He had seen me sniffing the herbs because all of a sudden he offered me a short stem with tiny purple flowers. He indicated me to smell it. Hmmmm! That was divine. Suddenly I jumped up and grinned and thanked him. He nodded again, turned and walked his way. Only now I noticed he was carrying a bag of apples on his back and a bunch of herbs in one hand.
I was in heaven. I felt so utterly happy all of a sudden; this brief encounter had told me so much about these people, it was simply fantastic. Boy, I was excited. I kept sniffing at my flower all the way back with the grin still on my face. Then, eventually, I picked up a couple yellow flowers and decided to dry them all and keep them as a very personal souvenir from Sinai.
On the way back to camp I was greeted by other bedouins from their orchard. They waved and smiled at me. And when I reached the "outskirts" of the village I met a very young - and handsome! - bedouin who welcomed me and asked me if I needed any help. I had got used to this by now and in a sudden impulse I asked "How do you say beautiful in Arabic?" True to myself I had to learn this word along with "hello", "please" and "thank you". My magic words for travelling.

The hike was lovely and it didn't confirm my fears. On the contrary, it showed me that people were very nice and friendly and it was worth spending more time exploring the area.
However, after 4 days spent here I had to go. My next stop was Nuweiba, a small town at the Red Sea, the place to take the ferry to Jordan from.

Reaching Nuweiba took a lot of time and was tiring, mainly because the direct bus isn't working anymore and you have to haggle with the taxi drivers. I arrived in Nuweiba in the dark, exhausted and drenched in sweat. However, one step closer to Jordan.