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Everyone was excited because, once we left Luxor the next morning, we were on our way to the desert. We had been driving for about two hours through real desert, with no traffic, when the bus stopped so that we could help Pamela and Julio celebrate their 35th wedding anniversary. Mamdoh had organised a double heart cake and a crepe paper heart to keep, and made a touching and emotional speech. We all sang the Flintstones version of Happy Anniversary and Julie presented the card we had all signed, drawn by Jeff. Jeff is a very talented artist – a great asset to have on a tour – and we have all admired photos of the work from his exhibition. Julio said that the secret of being married for 35 years is to share the suffering and the joy, and also to take showers together.
A feature of the nine hour trip was the way we developed excellent techniques for going to the toilet in the desert, despite quite strong winds, no bushes and often uninterrupted flat sand. Suffice it to say that consideration of wind direction, the slope of the land, and a team approach ensured comfort for all.
Mamdoh had told us to bring food on the bus for lunch, as there was no plan to stop at a restaurant. At around lunchtime we stopped at our first oasis town, called Kharga Oasis, for a toilet stop and for people to buy food at the local market. We already had dry biscuits, cheese, bananas and oranges so we just went for slow walk through the market. 
As with most Egyptian markets, it was mostly in a long, narrow street, with stalls on both sides, consisting of either the front room of the buildings, a cart parked at the side, or just a few goods spread out on the ground. 
Many people said, “Hello, welcome to Egypt.” Children often called out, “Hello!” and some asked, “What’s your name?” A few times we asked them, “What’s your name?” in return and more than once the answer was, “Ben.” We wondered if this was a common Egyptian name, but when we asked Mamdoh about it he said they would have been asking us for a pen. He told us that there is no P sound in Arabic, so any attempt at a P sounds like a B.At the end of the market street we kept walking and passed numerous small businesses. A small business here consists of a room with an open door facing the street, stocked with a few car parts, or some rope and hoses or even toilets and pipes. The lanes are not paved and a cloud of dust is left behind each vehicle, whether it’s a car, a motor bike, a bicycle or a donkey cart.
As we approached the meeting place to return to the bus we passed a bakery and bought a piece of bread that looked a bit like a small pitta but it was about 6 cm thick, to eat with our cheese. It turned out to be the most delicious bread we have had for a very long time.It was nearly tea time when we arrived at Darkhla Oasis. Basing our ideas on movies, we thought that an oasis was a small lake surrounded by palm trees, with rolling sand dunes in the background and a camel train stopped for the night as it travelled to exotic places. So far this has proven to be incorrect, with ‘oasis’ meaning that there are natural springs that can be accessed and used for irrigation of many crops over a wide area, and that there will be a reasonably large town built in the area.
We joined three others of our tour group for a relaxing stroll through the streets of Darkhla. There was little traffic, and plenty of children, and sometimes adults, greeting us.
As we neared the edge of town we came upon an area that looked like it either had the remains of a settlement, or it was being excavated. As the five of us climbed up the hill for a closer look, a man walked towards us and indicated by his presence that we should leave, so we did.
After dinner in the hotel we walked down to Abu Mohamed’s restaurant and internet café to have celebratory drinks with Pamela and Julio. Abu Mohamed showed us the books of comments that his patrons have left and some of us wrote ones of our own. It was sad to read the entries that focused on what people didn’t like in Egypt and how things weren’t exactly the same as home, and we warmed to those who had left messages that echoed our enthusiasm. Since Abu Mohamed’s had an ‘Internet Café’ sign out the front, Keith decided to catch up on some emails etc. As the one and only computer was busy, he had to wait, only to find that it was painfully slow and not worth the price being charged, which was double the normal price in Egypt (usually $2 per hour).We washed our clothes by hand as usual before we went to bed and we were thrilled to have a balcony to hang them out to dry. Hotels offer laundry services but my whole wardrobe would not make a machine load and of course, it costs money. We have just lowered our cleanliness standards along with everyone else on the tour and washed by hand every couple of days.
Gathering our washing next morning, we realised that my blue shirt had blown out of the tree near our balcony and disappeared. We went down and searched and eventually the soldier (there is one, or a tourist policeman, at every hotel) came out of his mud brick post so we told him our problem. He disappeared and reappeared with my shirt, neatly folded, but made no attempt to give it to us. Keith paid him E₤2 (about 40c Aust) and he handed it back to us. I wonder what he would have done if we had not come down searching.
Despite having real palm trees in abundance, this town has fake steel palm trees as median strip decorations.
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