It was very
cold. It was stormy. It was an unusual opportunity, to go to the Redsea
Mountains. I was allowed to join a group.
Robbyguided us to a small hidden oasis and I betook myself. I walked over debris and
rocks, upwards, across and headed away… away from the people, out into
seclusion and silence. It was not completely silent, however; the wind sang,
danced over the rocks and whirled up the sand. Not a sandstorm yet, but rather
stormy it was.
Upon my
return to the oasis, I was brought back to the here and now: the others were
hungry! So, off we went to find a somehow protected place for a barbecue. A
barbecue in that stormy wind? Robby made the impossible possible. Yet the
sunset afterwards did not happen; mountains, sky and desert blurred into an
indefinite grey. Since we had departed way too late (the others wanted it that
way), we ran out of time; gazing at the starlit sky far away from the light
pollution was out of question. We had to get out of the desert.
I will
never forget the next two and half hours: the two light beams of Robby’s jeep
shone into the dark night, over car tracks whose sand grains had already been
swirled up by the storm. We crossed tracks, guessed skylines of mountains, discovered
a lost star. I was wondering about my fellows’ thoughts. Doubts? Fear? No idea…
I trusted Robby. Indeed: at the same moment as I recognised a wall of rock in
the twilight, Robby asked me, whether I knew where we were. This was a fantastic
performance; this man really knows “his” desert.
I hope I
will soon have another chance…
Here are
some impressions:
 |
| Bedouin's cemetry |
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