Category: High Mountain Region

August 19, 2015

Chasing the summer rain…

A couple of days ago, I was sitting in a cafe in St Katherine, sipping a cup of tea when big, Biblical thunder began echoing around. I walked outside to see what was happening and saw dark thunderclouds gathering over Jebel Abbas Basha – one of the big mountains near the town – and then smelt the scent of rain, carrying in the breeze. Over Jebel Abbas Basha the clouds burst, the heavens opened and a deluge fell; soon, the water level rose and a flash flood went tearing down through Wadi Shagg, on the western side of the mountain. Then, down to more distant wadis. People who saw it – including a Bedouin guide who was in Wadi Shagg with two foreign hikers at the time – said it looked incredible; a huge, raging river of sand, boulders and dead shrubs.

The Bedouin call summer rain like this a sarookh – meaning ‘rocket’ – because unlike rain in winter, which usually comes from clouds that cover bigger areas – this comes from isolated clouds, hitting more specific spots.

The rain this summer was an absolute textbook example.

As the Bedouin name suggests this rain is often the most dangerous. First of all, because it comes so suddenly, with little warning. Secondly, because when it comes, it’s usually heavy, fast and violent; meaning the flash floods grow more quickly. If you get stuck in a wadi when a sarookh hits the best thing you can do is to climb the sides as quickly as you can. If you’re stuck in a narrow canyon whose sides you can’t climb, you can be in real trouble. In fact, you need to be vigilant all the time for this sort of rain through the hotter times of the year because although it might be beautiful weather where you are a sarookh might have hit a wadi upstream of you, sending a flood your way…

This time around, thankfully, everybody was OK in St Katherine. And also in settlements downstream, which the flood later tore past…

This was my first time being near summer rain in the Sinai and I was annoyed to have not actually seen it. The next day I went to Wadi Shagg to see what it had left behind though. Everything looked beautiful. Red rockpools lay between the boulders, with small waterfalls between them. The sound of running creeks echoed around the sides of the wadi. The tracks of birds covered big, shining flats of mud – which were rippled like waves – as they dried slowly in the sun. Dead shrubs sat on top of boulders…

It was the best I’ve seen Wadi Shagg looking and all the better because there had been no good rain here for at least a year. I went back to town to get a couple of friends. The three of us went on an adventure up the bottom of the wadi, wading through waist deep water and clambering up waterfalls – the perfect way to cool off in this most sweltering of sweltering summers. At the top of the wadi we found a huge pool – the biggest I’ve seen in the mountains near St Katherine – below a dripping tongue of sediments left behind by previous floods. We ate, swam and then followed the path of the flood back to St Katherine, passing Jebel Abbas Basha in the night, under a crescent moon.

Quite apart from making these wadis look beautiful and giving brilliant canyoning-type adventures this rain is good news because the Sinai really needs it. Wells and springs are getting lower and everything is dry. Right now, in Wadi Shagg, tree roots are submerged in water and the animals have a place to drink. And it wasn’t just Wadi Shagg. Two other mountains – Jebel Tarbush and Jebel Serbal – also had rain. The Bedouin say more might be on the way this summer too. If you want to escape the heat of Cairo – or Dahab or Sharm – there’s nowhere better than Wadi Shagg. I reckon the waterfalls will stay a couple of days and bigger pools over a week. Just remember to look out for another flood. You never know, lightning might strike the same wadi twice…

July 20, 2015

Old ways to St Katherine

Stand by the Monastery of St Katherine today and look around – swivelling through the full 360 degrees – and you’ll see high mountains locking you in on every side. Leave the monastery behind and venture up these mountains, heading for the very highest tops, and another – even more spectacular – view unfolds. A vast desert wilderness stretches out all around you, merging into the haze of faraway horizons. Sometimes, you can even see the high places of Africa and Asia. It’s a view that gives a sense of the Sinai’s epic isolation – the great no man’s land between continents – and of the Monastery of St Katherine; which stands in the most isolated part of the Sinai itself. Visiting the monastery today is easy – you can drive right up to its front gate – but getting here once required a long, gruelling camel expedition through remote stretches of wilderness.

The monastery might have been isolated, but it was still accessible. Travelling routes converged on it from all sides; some from Cairo, others from El Tur – an important port – and others from Jerusalem. Pilgrims, traders, travellers, warriors and poets all followed these ways before. And you can do exactly the same today.

Here are my five favourites – the best hiking routes to St Katherine.

1. WADI ISLEH One of three big wadis that cut through the gigantic chain of mountains that run down the Sinai’s west coast. It’s spectacular from the start – a canyon whose walls rise vertically to the sky. Waterfalls gush and palm trees stand buried to their heads by the sediments of old floods. This was the way from the old port of El Tur – (today’s capital of South Sinai) – and the main route upon which supplies reached the monastery. It became important after the Islamic Conquest, when other routes became difficult. It takes 3-5 days and is best done in spring, so you see the waterfalls at their fullest. Water in the desert always has a magic about it.

2. WADI MIR This gives an alternative way through the massive chain of mountains on the west coast. You soon get to a junction in the wadi where two routes diverge. One goes to Wadi Sig – my favourite wadi in the Sinai – whilst the other crosses a high pass known as Naqb Umm Seikha. This was the fastest, most direct route and as such the one along which post travelled to St Katherine (it was called Darb el Bosta – The Post Road). It’s another way in from El Tur – and to save your energy, you can even get a jeep a few kilos up the wadi. It takes 3-5 days to St Katherine but – be warned – it’s tougher than Wadi Isleh.

3. WADI HEBRAN The third of the big three wadis cutting into the Sinai’s huge western chain of mountains. It’s full of greenery and was the wadi through which Abbas Pasha – an old ruler of Egypt – planned a road to St Katherine. Today, talk of making a new modern road has resurfaced, which is all the more reason to walk it now. You have two options: you can exit the wadi on a route that connects to the old pilgrim route of Naqb el Hawa: Pass of the Winds. Alternatively, you can continue to Wadi Kabrin – a beautiful red rock wadi with Christian graffiti and hermit cells. Either way, give it 3-5 days start to finish.

4. DARB MUSA – the ‘Way of Moses‘. This is the legendary way to the Monastery of St Katherine from Suez, re-tracing the way it’s said Moses escaped the Pharaoh Ramses. It was the major route upon which travellers walked to the Monastery of St Katherine in times past and is recorded in several early guidebooks. Travellers would visit ‘Stations of the Exodus’ on the way – where it’s said Biblical stuff happened. Today, it’s best not to start in Suez; but in Wadi Gharandal, where Wadi Wutah gives a beautiful passage through the Wilderness of the Wanderings to Wadi Feiran and St Katherine. Give it 7-10 days all the way.

5. THE JERUSALEM ROUTE The route carried a steady flow of pilgrim traffic – connecting two major Christian sites in the Middle East. It entered the Sinai from the Negeb – the Sinai’s Bedouin sisterland to the north – and ran into Wadi Watir (which has a tarmac road today – but which is still beautiful). There were two routes into Wadi Watir – one down the coast from Taba – and another from further north. Thereafter the main route passed Ein Hudera; a green oasis with pilgrim graffiti. Today, a variation on this route is being re-made as the Abraham Path and will soon be ready. Give it 10-12 days to walk the whole thing end to end.

Remember all of these routes are walkable but they go through remote, isolated stretches of wilderness where help can be a long time coming if needed – so a good, experienced Bedouin guide is key to success. Going with the Bedouin is the smart move and it will add a whole new dimension to your trip. You won’t just get to know the way – you’ll really understand the desert and how to survive it. As well as a guide you’ll need to take a jeep to the beginning of most of the routes marked here. For the first three wadis the best place to start from is El Tur. For the fourth, you’ll need to get the jeep to Wadi Gharandal. Check out the best guides and jeep drivers in my Directory of the Best. Most of them will know the routes here and if they don’t they should be able to link you up with other trusted guides who will.

March 29, 2015

Three Peaks Egypt: the intel…

Over the last few months, I’ve been part of a team developing the Three Peaks Egypt Challenge, a new 38km hiking trail in the mountains of the Sinai. It’s Egypt’s first mountain challenge and the only Three Peaks Challenge in the Middle East. Well, it is so far, anyway. Hopefully we’ll see other ones. The whole trail is a community initiative. Its aim is to showcase the beauty of Egypt’s mountains and to revive some of the tourism that’s crashed so disastrously here since Egypt’s revolution. We want it to bring a trickle of hikers through the mountains, to help the local communities. Anyway, so far we’ve produced maps. There’s a GPS track. And route guides. We’ve got a website up and running. All that stuff is free and you can get it HERE.

Since then, the emphasis has been on walking and re-walking the challenge in a general intelligence gathering exercise; figuring out its secrets to advise hikers with the best tips and to find the best ways of supporting challenges with guides, camels, accommodation for the local community etc.

Growing a trail is like growing a tree. It’s a long process and we’ll be working on this for years to come. Anyway, I’ve been able to reflect a bit on the first phase a bit lately. So here’s what I know about the 12 and 24 hour options.

THREE PEAKS EGYPT: 24 HOUR CHALLENGE

I reckon this will become the classic way to do the challenge. It’s manageable if you have a good level of fitness and stamina and walk it the right way. The first guy to do it was a 57 year old engineer called Leo who walks barefoot in the Alps and who’d taken a month-long walkabout in the Sinai prior to the challenge. He got round in an impressive 16 hours and 6 minutes. Also with us was Olivia, a PhD grad studying bee pollination in the Sinai who took a generally dim view of the whole Three Peaks Egypt Challenge, telling us she’d done all three peaks before and saw no good reason doing them again, especially not on the same day, and that she was coming for a nice walk and would retire half way around. Which is exactly what she did, despite our best protestations.

OK, so here are my main impressions and top tips for the trail:

1. Slow and steady. Go slow and steady. Look on yourself as playing the part of the tortoise in that old fable about the tortoise and the hare. The hare tears off to the horizon, then relaxes and sleeps, letting the tortoise overtake to finish first. You have to be the tortoise. You don’t need to go super fast. You can go slow. But you have to keep going. You have more time on this challenge than you might think. We set a manageable pace all the way along and took breaks for tea, lunch, pictures etc. Go too fast and you’ll burn out too early.

2. Night hiking. This is unique to the 24 hour challenge. Don’t underestimate it. The paths are loose and uneven and you have to stay 100% focused to avoid a tumble. The darkness also makes it harder to judge how far you’ve gone, how far you’ve got to go etc. Everything feels further. It’s a psychological thing. Take a headlamp and spare batteries. Or hike in spring, when the day is longer. Try to get to Farsh Umm Silla on Jebel Katherina before dark too: just before it is a scrambling section that would take much longer at night.

3. To sleep or not to sleep? I was sorely tempted. There was the hiking hut on Jebel Katherina. A Bedouin tent at the bottom. Cushions. A fire. A hot meal. Actually, we’d planned to sleep here. But then Leo piped up wanting to head up Mount Sinai. Maybe a short power nap on the spot would help. Anything more though, probably not. Setting off after an hour was tough enough. Waking up, pulling on a backpack and pressing the muscles back into service up another mountain would have been a tall order indeed.

4. Small, light meals. We had really good meals. They gave us energy and were a chance to relax and make plans on how to finish. They say the best plans are laid with a full belly. I’d add the caveat that executing those plans with a full belly – especially on a 38km mountain challenge – is another matter entirely. I ate seconds and thirds on this challenge. And I paid the price. I felt like an anaconda that had swallowed a calf afterwards, hauling myself up the mountain. My top tip: eat smaller meals and energy snacks like dates, halawa, chocolate…

5. Know how it works. Ask your guide how the logistics of the trail will work before you do it. This will help you plan each stage. If you’re in a group, a camel will usually meet you half way. That means you can think of it as a game of two halves; carrying lighter loads on each. Know the water points too. There’s more water on the first half than the second, so you can go lighter on the first, drinking water on the way. This will preserve your energy; travelling lighter will also be better for your feet and knees. You’ll feel better.

THE 12 HOUR CHALLENGE: EXTREME

A Bedouin man-of-steel called Salem – born at the foot of Jebel Katherina – was supposed to be doing this. Until he got laid low by a stomach bug. Then I was the next in line. Generally, these extreme sort of challenges aren’t my thing. And generally, since school, I’ve had the knack of being in the wrong place at the wrong time when the dubious chance of doing one comes around. Cross country races. The 1500m. Half bloody marathons. I’ve been roped into all of them. History repeats itself. I hardly slept before this: I never do when I’ve got to get up early. Especially not with a 38km mountain challenge looming over me like the Sword of Damocles. Anyway, this was tough: but definitely not impossible. I took 9 hours 28 minutes and 30 seconds. Watch a video HERE.

OK, so here are the main things I’d say if you’re doing it.

1. A fast walk – not a run. You can do this as a fast walk. I ran less than 300m. My plan was to start it as a walk. If I was doing OK, I’d carry on; if I was lagging, I’d run. I got to the half way point in four hours. After that, I knew I’d be OK. Beware though, time is bearing down. It’s breathing down your neck all the way. So although you can do it as a walk, you have to keep going. I took six rests. Most were 3 minutes. The longest was 7 minutes. It’s like being the tortoise again. This time though, a sort of thoroughbred racing tortoise.

2. Use the daylight. You’ll have at least 12 hours of daylight in the Sinai, even in winter. Which means you should be able to do it all outside darkness, as long as it goes to plan. The 12 hour challenge isn’t one for the dark…

3. Watch the clock. Time ticks mercilessly away on the challenge, indifferent to your suffering. Make all the time you can in advance. I didn’t take many pictures. I didn’t stop to eat. I didn’t rest much. I put my chocolate bars where I could grab them. I opened the corn beef before I left. I put some TANG in an empty bottle, so it’d be ready when I re-filled it. I put new batteries in everything. Think of what will take time, then cut it out, minimise it, or do it at home. A lot of this challenge is about strategy and having a tight game plan.

4. Choose company wisely. If I’d been with somebody faster I’d have felt I was holding them back. And I hate that. It would’ve been a psychological burden for me. If I’d been with someone slower on a challenge like this, I’d probably have felt held back myself. Alone, it was 100% my pace and my plan. Company can be good, but it depends. If you go with a partner, make sure you’re well matched: that you can tolerate and laugh about each other’s shortcomings.

5. Know the challenge. Knowing every twist and turn meant I didn’t waste time. I knew where I was going. I knew where to get water. I knew those sections where I could go quicker. The downhill stretches. The better paths etc. My top tip is to walk the whole trail before your challenge, figuring everything out.

6. Eating and drinking. No big, heavy meals this time around. I ate on the move. The chocolate bar count was 12. I ate two slices of corn beef. I drank four litres of water. The annoying thing was drinking through a tube. I borrowed a bladder bottle with a drinking tube that dangled round my chest, thinking it was a good idea. Actually, sucking water through a tube messed with my breathing rhythmn. To use an Americanism, it sucked. Literally. So I abandoned it, carrying a small 750ml litre bottle in one hand and reverting to the traditional method of pouring it down my oesophagus when I was thirsty.

7. The pain barrier. Four months ago, some eegit dug a hole outside my front door in St Katherine. I fell into it and didn’t walk properly for a month. Half way through this challenge I couldn’t put my foot down. I thought it was the old injury: actually, I’d strapped it too tight. That was the first pain barrier. Later, the accumulative battering took its toll. Knowing my pace count I reckon I took at least 53,200 steps on the hard, rocky paths. My feet really felt it. The balls and heels. At the end, my body did too. In fact, it felt like my 32 year old self had been reincarnated in my 80 year old self’s body. So be prepared for it to hurt a little…

Over the coming weeks we’ll be working all the information into the website, so if you’re serious about doing it, have a look. I haven’t talked about the 72 hour challenge here but that’s also an option. Good for the blazing heat of summer. Or for other inclement weather. And if a challenge event isn’t your thing you can do the walk as a normal hike, in whatever time is comfortable. In the coming months, the next phase here will be setting up a system through which a hiker can do the challenge easily and independently. And it’ll be about finding businesses – ethical, responsible sorts of businesses – that can offer the challenge to people, bringing more people to the local economy and helping the region. Contact me if you need any info on the whole thing!

March 24, 2015

Sinai: five beautiful oases

This blog is mostly about mountains. I love getting to the tops of mountains. I love how they represent the last point between the earth and the sky; the last place we can go and the most natural end to a journey we could ever make. If there’s a single moment though – a single, iconic moment – that rivals getting to the top of a mountain, it’s arriving in an oasis. And I mean arriving in an oasis after days in the desert. When you get to an oasis, suddenly, there’s shade. Suddenly there’s water. You can hear the birds. You can smell the fires. You get handed tea. It’s that moment of knowing you’re out of the wilderness; that, just for a moment, there’s sanctuary and you can breathe easy.

When you go to one by jeep you’ll see it; but you’ll never really understand what that little clump of green means in the wider context of a desert. Oases are made special by what’s around them and by the journey you make to them.

I’ve already talked about my five favourite wadis in the Sinai. Here are my five all time favourite oases too. What are yours?

1. EIN HAYALLA My favourite of all, I first spotted this from high on Jebel Madsus; far below, it looked like an emerald gem buried in the red rocks. It’s a cluster of green palms in one of the heads of Wadi Kabrin, with deep water pools and trickling creeks. There are bamboo tunnels and fallen tree trunks you can walk across like bridges. Long ago, this oasis was on a pilgrim route to St Katherine; you can still find Byzantine pottery and crucifixes etched on the rocks. One amazing way to walk here is via Wadi Hebran, from the coast. There’s a similarly spectacular route via Wadi Sig, but it’s longer. And harder. You can also walk in via a place called Baghabugh, from St Katherine.

2. EIN SHEFALLA You won’t find many folks who’ve been here. Half way up a deserted wadi that drains El Gardood – a high, foreboding plateau that flanks the Gulf of Aqaba – it’s just a couple of palms below a vertical cliff. It’s not the lush jungle of Ein Hayalla. But the surroundings are much harsher. And that’s why this little patch of green means so much here. It has a themila too: a hole where you can dig down to find water. Walking to Ein Shefalla isn’t easy. You can do it from Wadi Guseib, on the Gulf of Aqaba coast near Bir Sweir. It involves a tough hike over a hard-to-navigate plateau for which, like all the oases here, you’ll need an experienced Bedouin guide.

3 EIN GUSEIB This little oasis huddles at the end of a rugged coastal wadi, below the El Gardood plateau. It’s a haven of green with palm trees, bamboo, pools and creeks that run through the sands. It’s a beautiful spot that you can get to with a walk from the beach. From Bir Sweir on the Gulf of Aqaba coast – roughly 25km north of Nuweiba – follow Wadi Guseib inland from the beach. Otherwise, you can do it at the end of a longer trail passing three of the oases here. Start near Ras Shetan and from here walk to Moiyet Melha (see below). After this you can climb up the El Gardood plateau, crossing it to Ein Shefalla and down its rugged coastal cliffs to Ein Guseib and the Gulf of Aqaba.

4 MOIYET EL MELHA They say a ghoola – a sort of evil witch – guards this oasis, maiming or killing anybody who traps its animals, cuts its trees or tries to claim the oasis for himself. Some are scared of her; others see her as a benevolent force of nature. A guardian who protects its animals and trees against human greed. Moiyet el Melha is a long line of green palms that grow at the bottom of high cliffs, where water seeps out. Getting here isn’t too tricky: it’s at the end of a long coastal wadi called Wadi Melha, which starts near the beach camps of Ras Shetan. Half way along is Wadi Wishwashi, a spectacular ravine. The oasis is near the end of the wadi; a beautiful spot to sleep.

5 EIN KIDD The only oasis in this list where you’ll find people. Sometimes, I like having places to myself. Other times, people add something. After days in the wilderness, it can be good to talk again. At least, it can with the right people. Getting stuck in an oasis with the wrong people would be a problem. Ein Kidd is in the territory of the Muzeina tribe and the Bedouin here are hospitable in the old school traditions. The oasis itself is a cluster of palms in Wadi Kidd, a long wadi that connects the St Katherine region with the coastal ranges. It’s a sort of half way house on treks between St Katherine and Sharm and it can also be tied into longer treks from the Jebel Umm Shomer area.

Check out the Google Map below, to pinpoint the oases. Remember, these spots are in remote, rugged mountain country and it’s essential to take a Bedouin guide who knows what they’re doing. Check out my Directory of the Best.

February 2, 2015

Five holy peaks of the Sinai

Mount Sinai is the spot they say God spoke with Moses, giving the 10 Commandments. It’s the Sinai’s holiest peak. You could make a good case for it being the holiest in the world too. Holier to more people, in more parts of the world, over a longer time, than any other mountain on earth – which is really something. It isn’t the Sinai’s only holy peak though. There are plenty of others. Some of them are holy because – like Mount Sinai – they’re on the Biblical map. Others, because of later miracles. And some were holy in much more distant eras, to much earlier peoples of the peninsula, whose religions we know little about today. Here are five holy peaks of the Sinai you rarely hear about:

1. JEBEL SERBAL Jebel Serbal looks amazing. If you had to say any peak in the Sinai was holy based on looks alone, it’d probably be this. And for a long time, people did say it was holy. Some scholars reckon the name Serbal comes from ‘Baal’, a pagan God who was worshipped in these parts of the Middle East in ancient times. There’s a little ruin on the mountain top that dates from a later era, which archaeologists reckon was a Nabataean temple. Later still, in Christian times, Jebel Serbal took on a whole new association. Early Christians believed it was the real Mount Sinai of The Bible – i.e not the peak we call Mount Sinai today. The ruins of the Sinai’s first episcopal city, plus hermit cells, chapels and crumbling stairways, still stand around the mountain today.

2. JEBEL KATHERINA Egypt’s highest peak. Legend has it angels carried the body of St Katherine here after the Romans killed her in Alexandria. The exact whereabouts of her bones remained unknown until one day in the 9th century when, claiming all had been revealed in a God-given dream, a local monk wandered up the mountain and found them on this summit (the lower of the mountain’s two high points and the second highest point in Egypt 2637m). Ever since then, this peak has been hallowed ground. There’s a small chapel on top but the bones of St Katherine are now in the Monastery of St Katherine.

3. JEBEL TAHUNA A little peak in Wadi Feiran, local legend has it Jebel Tahuna is the spot where Moses watched the Battle of Rephidim, raising his magic staff to spur the Israelites on to victory. A 1500 year oratory crowns the summit, with a near-perfectly preserved water cistern dug into its foundations. Small chapels, whose walls, columns and altars are all still visible, stand by the path up the mountain. Hermit cells are dug into banks along its lower slopes and the higher hillsides are scattered with ancient Christian tombs. Travellers have been climbing this peak for centuries, and you should too. As much as the history, it’s worth it for the beautiful views you get over Wadi Feiran – one of the Sinai’s biggest, most beautiful wadis – and of Jebel Serbal, towering up like a castle.

4. JEBEL MONEJA A lot of tourists climb this, making the mistake of thinking it’s Mount Sinai. Actually, it’s just a smaller, sister peak, half way up. It’s also called Jethro’s Mountain, after Jethro, the Biblical figure, whose daughter is supposed to have married Moses. Monks say God spoke to Moses here, beckoning him further up the mountain, and it’s another of the Sinai’s holiest spots. With a chapel on top, this is a brilliant peak with what is – in my opinion – the best view of the Monastery of St Katherine in the Sinai; the classic viewpoint from which artists sketched it, huddling below Mount Sinai, for centuries.

5. JEBEL EL AHMAR Sometimes also known as Jebel Moneja – like the peak above – this is a little-known summit in the northern foothills of Jebel Serbal. It isn’t as dramatic-looking as the other peaks here, but all the same, this was one of the Sinai’s holiest summits for a long time. Early explorers recorded it having a special place for the local Bedouin of Wadi Feiran. They’d make pilgrimage trips to a shrine on the top, tying rags, beads, camel reigns and other offerings to the stones. That’s stopped today, but I’ve still heard people talk about it in the past. If you go you’ll have a spectacular view over Wadi Feiran, with its big palm grove; and one of the best views of Jebel Serbal. You can also visit the tomb of Sheikh Shebib, a holy saint of the Gararsha tribe, at the foot of the peak.

December 24, 2014

The Ghoul’s Cave: Merry Xmas

Kahf el Ghoula – The Ghoul’s Cave – is a dark, foreboding cavern in the side of Jebel Rabba. It looks like a black eye on the mountain, peering down on the wadi below. Legend has it a ghoula – an evil witch type creature – used to live here. She’d spy out travellers in the wadi. Then she’d capture them; and eat them, leaving a pile of bones. Bedouin mothers still tell young children stories about the ghoula to stop them wandering into the mountains alone. Anyway, it’s a beautiful, atmospheric cave, and we went to celebrate Christmas there this year; it feels sheltered, faraway and mysterious, deep in the mountainside. Definitely a hideout fit for a ghoul, if ever I saw one…

Getting there is easy – its about half an hour’s walk from St Katherine.

You just need to walk out of town through Wadi el Arbain. About 10 minutes along a ravine runs up into the mountains on the right hand side: this is Wadi Abu Heiman and Kahf el Ghoula is on the right side of this ravine, about a 15-20 minute climb.

There’s a spring in the cave, where water seeps out of the mountainside; green maidenhair ferns grow around it. They call it Ein el Ghoula – Spring of the Ghoul – and you can still drink its cold, fresh water today.

Look out for the small, cubby-hole type cave near the main one. It’s a person-sized cave where people say the ghoula would keep her victims before she ate them; a sort of larder to keep them fresh. You can climb up to to have a look, but it’s a little bit tricky.

Anyway, there aren’t many caves in the Sinai so whenever you find one – especially one this big – it’s worth a look. Merry Christmas from the Sinai!

December 23, 2014

Wadi Sig: the Sinai jungle

The Sinai is a desert – every part of it. Most parts get less than 50mm rain a year. Some parts, less than 13mm. It’s a trans-continental sweep of sandy plains and harsh, rocky highlands. Not every part of it though. In some places, the Sinai gets green. It gets overgrown. Walk some wadis and it it feels like you’ve left the desert and entered the jungle. These wadis of the Sinai – the jungle wadis – are absolutely amazing: an environmental oddity you find only on the west side of the peninsula. On the high mountain side. The wetter side, where steep, impervious mountainsides channel all the water direct into the bottom of the wadis. The east side is totally different. The west of the Sinai is where desert meets jungle. There are a few great jungle wadis.

And for me, the best of all – the best wadi in the Sinai – is Wadi Sig. I reckon this is the King of the Sinai’s wadis.

It’s the emerald gem; the buried, secret jewel of the peninsula.

There’s hardly any writing about it. I clocked it the first time on a high peak called Jebel el Reeh about a year ago. Far below there was a big wadi that cut down – deep, deep down – as it ran down to the sea.

It’s overgrown with vegetation for long stretches. And vegetation on a bigger scale than what you find in other wadis. There are giant horsemint bushes higher than your waist and thickets of bamboo where you can’t see where you’re going. Where you have to push your way through. There are places with running water, pools and small waterfalls. And there are huge canyons: long, narrow parts where the sides tower vertically. There’s history too: look carefully on the sides of the wadi and you’ll see little dwellings built into the cliffs. It’s a wadi that has everything. And there’s no let up – it never eases off.

All these riches aren’t won easily though – Wadi Sig is a tough walk.

And it’s made tougher by the fact it takes you irreversibly deep; it commits you to a remote, multi-day expedition you can’t get out of easily. And one where you have to carry all your stuff except water. Camels can’t come this way. There are no paths. It’s mostly stony river bed terrain. There’s plenty of boulder hopping. Plus bits of scrambling. There are a lot of routefinding puzzles too. We got stuck at one point, jumping down into a black abyss, with a shower of vegetation falling on our heads, before escaping through a bamboo thicket (only to discover a much more sensible way around the other side). Black piping is tied on some rocks so you can abseil in places; but you never go down more than a few metres.

Wadi Sig isn’t technically tricky – it’s just long. And tough. A stamina thing.

If walking a wadi was a boxing match, Wadi Sig would be the equivalent of going the distance; of doing the full 12 rounds. We did it in a day, starting at 6am, finishing about 5pm, just before sunset; and going fast all the way. Ideally, it’d be better done in two days. The best plan would be to hike in from St Katherine on the first day – which takes about five hours – and then camp in the wadi. Then to continue to the end over the second day. It ends at a junction with Wadi Khareeta. After this, it becomes known as Wadi Mirr. It’s the same wadi – just with a different name – and it runs down to the Plain of Qa.

The easiest option is to just walk out of Wadi Mirr. It takes about a day to the end of the wadi, where you can find a jeep at a small Bedouin village. The downside of this is the jeep can cost a lot – probably at least LE500 to El Tur considering you won’t have much bargaining power. The other options are 1. to walk out through Wadi Khareeta, which takes you back to St Katherine in 2-3 days 2. to go through Wadi Zeregeiyah, which goes to Jebel Umm Shomer over 1-2 days, after which it’s another day’s walk back to St Katherine. You can also go to a place called Baghabugh, near Jebel Madsus, and then back to St Katherine over 2-3 days. Or you can go over the high pass of Naqb Umm Seikha to Wadi Jibal and back to St Katherine in 2 days. Be warned – none of these routes are easy.

The easiest of all is the Baghabugh route. This is mostly a hike. All the other routes are off piste adventure routes. Naqb Umm Seikha is the way the postman used to take from El Tur to St Katherine in the 19th century. But it’s seriously steep and would be a monster with a heavy bag. Wadi Khareeta is also steep at the end. Wadi Zeregeiyah is like a mini Wadi Sig, with lots of scrambling; including bits that are more technical than Wadi Sig.

And perhaps that’s another great thing about Wadi Sig.

It commits you to a mission where getting out is as much of an adventure as getting in in the first place…

September 28, 2014

The blog: how it all began

THIS ARTICLE FIRST APPEARED IN EGYPTIAN STREETS. Check out their website HERE and like their Facebook page HERE!

When it comes to mountains and the Middle East, a few countries might spring to mind. There’s Yemen, with its pretty mountain villages and the highest peak of the Arabian peninsula; Oman too, home to the mighty Al Hajar range. In the wider Arab world, there’s Morocco, with the high, snowy peaks of the Atlas. Egypt has mountains too – lots of them – but it’s not famous for them in the same way other countries are. Few outsiders see Egypt as a mountain country. And mountains aren’t really part of the image Egyptians project about their country to the world either; they’re not woven into the national identity like the Nile, or even the sweeping deserts along its banks. Mount Sinai might be famous; but it’s a single peak. Beyond this and perhaps a couple of other iconic summits the mountains of Egypt are little-known; much less actually visited.

The mountains of mainland Egypt are amazing; on the Libyan side of the Nile, there’s Jebel Uweinat; on the other, the Red Sea Mountains.

But perhaps the most amazing of all are those of the Sinai.

The Sinai is Egypt’s great mountain land; a rugged wilderness where peaks tower up to gaze over the Red Sea to Africa and Asia. Egypt’s highest mountains are found here. But it’s not the height alone that makes them special. They’re some of the world’s most fabled mountains; the setting for ancient Biblical legends that are still told today. And there’s the history too; relics from the times of the Pharaohs – and even more distant eras – are still scattered by old paths.

I took my first hike in the Sinai over six years ago now.

Like most would-be hikers, I started out on a familiar path; doing the best known peaks at the beginning. I did Mount Sinai first – the most written about, talked about, and easily the most-climbed peak anywhere on the peninsula – and then Jebel Katherina, whose main claim to fame is being Egypt’s highest mountain. After that, I moved on to the sort of peaks that aren’t very well-known outside the Sinai – but which are still well-trodden within it – like Jebel Abbas Pasha, which has an unfinished Ottoman palace on top, and Jebel Umm Shomer, Egypt’s second highest mountain. After those, I began moving further out to the more rarely visited areas, seeking out the most little-trodden peaks.

Whether you walk a famous or a lesser-known peak, the Sinai’s rarely easy.

Good paths are hard to come by. There are virtually no signposts. Nor easy, end-of-the-day conveniences. The infrastructure for hiking tourism just hasn’t been widely built up. Good maps are pretty much non-existent. And whilst it’s good for some areas in the Sinai, Google Earth doesn’t cut it for navigating intricate mountain routes. As much as anything, there’s a dearth of information – good written information – about many parts of the Sinai’s mountains.

Sometimes, you can delve back into the travelogues of European explorers.

They might be old, but they’re usually still useful. These explorers walked more widely than any contemporary author; and a lot of the time their records are the only ones available for parts of the Sinai.

Amongst these early explorers was Jean Louis Burckhardt, who won immortal fame for unveiling Petra to the West. He travelled through the Sinai in 1816, walking widely and climbing a few iconic mountains.

There was Edward Henry Palmer too; a Cambridge professor who wrote a remarkable travelogue featuring many little-known parts of the Sinai.

And George Murray; a highland Scot and born mountain man who climbed some of the Sinai’s hardest peaks; and others across Egypt.

Of course though, these explorers didn’t go everywhere. Or record everything.

For large areas of the Sinai, there are still no written records. No modern ones; or older ones. Walking in these areas – in the most little documented parts of the Sinai – is a process that beings simply by asking questions. Specifically, by asking questions of the local Bedouin. The Bedouin arrived in the Sinai from the Arabian Peninsula centuries ago and walked the mountains widely from the start, looking for water, food, grazing and other essentials they needed to survive. They built up a huge bank of knowledge about its mountains through the ages. They were the Sinai explorers par excellence and their knowledge is still the only source of information available about a lot of the peninsula. When European explorers came to the Sinai they only ever explored it through the Bedouin, even if the Bedouin didn’t feature much in their written accounts. They had Bedouin guides; and they recorded Bedouin knowledge.

But Bedouin knowledge isn’t what it once was. Lifestyles have changed.

Today, many Bedouin have left the mountains for new towns and villages on their fringes. Knowledge about the mountains – once central to survival – is largely irrelevant now. And because it’s not used, a lot of it’s being forgotten.

You can see clear gaps in the knowledge of younger Bedouin already.

It’s the older Bedouin who know the Sinai best. But even then, tracking down the ones who know the ways up the hardest, most little-trodden peaks is a challenge. Sometimes, it can be simpler to just re-discover the routes from scratch.

This dearth of good written information about the little-known peaks of the Sinai is a hindrance to anybody wanting to do them. And to the development of hiking generally. I still experience it today. And it’s something I’ve tried to address through several projects. Earlier this year, I finished a trekking guidebook to the Sinai, published in the UK. It gives the best, most classic walks in the peninsula and the practical information needed to organise them.

More lately I created the website Go Tell It on the Mountain.

This is a project with a more specific mountain focus. And one which aims to start a grassroots documentation process. To begin a simple list of peaks – from the most famous to the most little-known – that will grow into a bigger bank of information that can be used to go deeper and discover more.

But it’s not just about showing what mountains are in the Sinai.

It records a more personal journey that I hope might help change perceptions about the peninsula. Over the last few years there has been a near constant stream of bad news from the Sinai; most of it from the North. But all too often North Sinai has been conflated with South Sinai; the peninsula portrayed as an undivided, unvariegated whole. Sinai is just Sinai. In reality the two areas have big geographical and social divides and South Sinai – which is where the mountains are – has been largely peaceful. Along with the bad press, Western governments have issued travel warnings for South Sinai, which have only reinforced perceptions of it as a place of danger. And even when warnings have been lifted for South Sinai resorts like Sharm they have remained in place for the mountains. The official message has been clear for years – don’t go.

It’s a state of affairs that has undermined the tourism upon which many local communities have grown to depend. Many are seriously struggling.

This website is about creating a counter-narrative to the bad news.

It’s about putting an alternative voice out there and showing a more real, everyday side to the mountains. It’s about telling stories that show these mountains are home to an ancient Arab culture built on honour and hospitality to travellers. And that these traditions still hold strong today. Ultimately, it’s about showing that you can travel safely here – even in the most little-visited parts of South Sinai’s mountains – despite what they say.

My biggest hope is that tourism will return; and not just to those parts of the Sinai that had it before. But to the most little-trodden mountain areas.

The Bedouin have always supplemented traditional livelihoods by guiding travellers in their lands; from traders to pilgrims and early explorers. Mountain tourism like hiking – which has proved so successful in other Arab countries – would be a sort of modern re-incarnation of that, creating a type of work that plays to natural Bedouin strengths in a way the Sinai’s glitzy beach resorts never could. It wouldn’t just open up a new treasure trove of beautiful mountains for the world; it would drive local development. And it’d put down a financial incentive for the preservation of Bedouin knowledge about the mountains. Knowledge it took centuries to build up and which – once lost – could never be re-created the same again. Knowledge that shouldn’t just be seen as part of Bedouin cultural heritage; but as part of humanity’s heritage at large.

My plans for the future are to carry on hiking in the Sinai. There are still new mountains I want to do. And old ones I want to try new ways. And I’d encourage anybody who’s in two minds about going to the Sinai to visit too.

The mountains of the Sinai and amazing and safe to visit in the South. If you don’t want to go alone, small hiking groups have been active for years. New ones are springing up too, run by Egyptians and foreigners. I’ve seen more hikers in the mountains this year than any previous one too. It’s all grounds for hope; a sign things might be going in the right way. Once people start walking more in these mountains; going deeper and bringing their stories back it’ll become clear that Egypt isn’t just the equal of Arab neighbours like Yemen, Oman and Morocco when it comes to mountains. But that it’s the equal of anywhere in the world. And perhaps then – when the epic potential of these mountains becomes clear – it’ll be the base for more change and development.

THIS ARTICLE FIRST APPEARED IN EGYPTIAN STREETS. Check out their website HERE and like their Facebook page HERE!

August 24, 2014

The Sinai: five beautiful wadis

This blog is mostly about mountains. But wadis are a big part of the Sinai too. Whenever you do a mountain, the chances are a wadi will be part of it. Overall, walking in the Sinai, I’ve probably spent more time in wadis than on mountains. They’re the main routes between mountains. Most of the time you get water in them. You find gardens, food and shelter in them. There are beautiful wadis all over the Sinai but my favourites are on the west side of the peninsula. They have more water. Some even have streams and waterfalls. They’re a bit greener. They have more history too. Crumbling old paths and ancient hermit cells where you can sleep; plus chapels and ancient graffiti. If I have the time, I walk in them between towns, rather than take the bus. Anyway, here are my five all-time favourite wadis of the Sinai:

1. WADI ISLEH An old travelling passage between St Katherine and El Tur; I love to walk out of the mountains and down to the sea this way. Or go the other way, heading to the mountains from the coast. This wadi has dramatic narrow sections, including a spectacular gorge near its mouth; one of the Sinai’s great natural wonders. During flash floods, the Bedouin say this gorge fills to the brim with water. Long after the floods have gone, creeks and waterfalls still trickle. A spectacular pinnacle towers over the wadi half way along. There are lots of pretty little oases too; with palms and reeds. Look closely and you’ll see ancient paths and ruins. This is one of the few wadis in this list – and I’d argue the BEST – in which you can ride a camel almost all the way. I haven’t done it yet, but it’s on my to-do list. Further up, Wadi Isleh runs into Wadi Rimhan; which you can follow up to climb Jebel Umm Shomer: the Sinai’s second-highest peak.

2. WADI SIG One of the most little-known wadis of the Sinai, I didn’t do this until 2014, when I spotted it from the nearby peak of Jebel el Reeh; it looked beautiful, winding through the mountains. Sig means a sort of canyon in Arabic; so whenever you see a wadi’s called Wadi Sig, it’s a pretty safe bet it’s going to be good. Anyway, this begins at the foot of the Jebel Katherina highlands; then it becomes a narrow, winding canyon. Everywhere is dramatic. It doesn’t ever ease off. It has towering sides and overgrown stands of bamboo where it feels like you’ve walked into the jungle. There are ancient dwellings where you can sleep too. It’s NOT an easy walking route. But it IS an adventure. Wadi Zeraigiyeh connects it to Wadi Rimhan and Wadi Isleh too.

3. WADI SIGILLIA 19th century explorers were the first to mention this; and they made it sound magical. I first did it a few years ago, when I was exploring new parts of Jebel Serbal for my book Sinai: The Trekking Guide. It’s a big, gorge-like wadi that cuts along the southern side of Jebel Serbal: and it’s absolutely spectacular. It’s much harder to get to than any the other wadis here. The main way in is a crumbling Byzantine stairway – Abu Silim – that winds down a precipitous ravine. The steps are broken, so you have to go off piste. For something even harder, there’s a ravine called Wadi Baytheran. Or you can walk in from the coast from Wadi Jebaa, which has big, intimidating drops at the start. Anyway, Wadi Sigillia was once of the biggest Christian retreats in the Sinai: specifically because it was so hard to get to. You can still see the ancient ruins today. Plus beautiful creeks, waterfalls, pools and big stands of bamboo.

4. NAQB EL HAWA Naqb el Hawa is one of the first wadis I ever did: it’s still one of my all-time favourite spots. It means ‘Pass of the Wind’ and it’s the last leg of the pilgrim trail that came from Suez to the Monastery of St Katherine. It’s lined by rugged mountains on both sides – including the spectacular pinnacle of Jebel Zibb Rubi – but it’s an easy walk, with a gentle camel trail all the way along. It starts near an outlying village of St Katherine called Abu Seila; then runs down to a place called Sheikh Auwad. You can walk it either way, but going DOWNHILL, from Abu Seila, gives the best perspective on the surrounding scenery. You can even make it into a circuit with Wadi Madaman below. Whenever you do it, aim to get there for sunset, when it’s the most beautiful.

5. WADI MADAMAN A beautiful wadi near St Katherine and the place I escape the town. It has a faraway feel and is way off the main mountain trails. The only folks you’ll see here are the Bedouin. And meeting Bedouin in the wadis – who are always hospitable – only adds to the trip. It’s deeper than most other wadis around St Katherine and has the feel of a gorge, twisting around sharp bends; the gigantic peak of Jebel Naja towering up all the way. You’ll also see the little tomb of Sheikh Ahmed, an old saint of the Jebeleya tribe. Further up, the wadi runs into Wadi Tlah, with lots of Bedouin orchards. To get the best perspective, walk UP the wadi from the bottom. You start near the settlement of Sheikh Auwad and you can can tie it up with Naqb el Hawa – the wadi above too – which is best walked DOWNHILL. So the two work together. Go DOWN Naqb el Hawa, then back UP Wadi Madaman. It’s the best wadi circuit in the area!

May 24, 2014

Jebel Rubsha: the little peak

Of all the summits in the High Mountain Region, Jebel Rubsha was the last I did. It was on the doorstep all the time; but I just never got round to it. Mostly because it felt so close to town. I like to get as far away from towns and people as I can in the mountains. But as much as anything, because it didn’t look like much of an adventure. I could see everything from the bottom. I felt like I knew the mountain and everything about it before I’d even gone. But it was there; and, because of that, I still needed to do it.

I went half way up on Friday 13th December 2013, when huge blizzards hit the Sinai. Not to climb it. Just to photograph the town in the snow.

If you DO want to see the town – eg. to photograph it – Jebel Rubsha beats ANY peak. You can see it in that pic on the left. That’s not the WHOLE of the town either BTW; it’s just the main, central part (called El Milga). That big mountain behind – the one in the middle – is Jebel Rabba, a brilliant one to climb. This pic was taken about half way up Jebel Rubsha’s south face; which I’d say is about the best height for photographs; go higher and the perspective on everything changes so it doesn’t look quite as good.

The next time – about a month later – I went under blue skies. On a normal route.

Jebel Rubsha is actually a twin-peaked mountain. Three-peaked if you count another little point I took this picture from. You can see the two main summits in the picture on the right. An easy wadi leads up here from town, then you just scramble up the gully between the two peaks. From the top of the gully climb the peak on the RIGHT. That’s the higher of the two peaks and it’s an easy scramble up the skyline. You can do the other too but it’s a bit trickier, with some awkward moves heading up from the gully side.

Honestly, I didn’t go expecting much from this summit.

But it was one of the most memorable I’ve done in the Sinai. I thought the town would detract from it; but actually, it added something.

Up here on Jebel Rubsha I could hear all the sounds of the town. Children playing. The hum of engines. The muezzin practising his call to prayer. There was nothing in your face about it. Everything was distant and faraway. It didn’t sound like noise. It just sounded like home. It reminded me of all the years I’d spent in St Katherine since I first started going to the mountains. I’ve been up here a few times since that first time. I still like listening to the town. And being high up here, looking down on the bustle below gives me a sort of perspective. It might not mean the same thing to you but I still reckon it’s worth doing if you’ve got a few hours to kill. Once you’re up here a beautiful long ridge stretches away to the north west too, which you can follow to begin a brilliant – and entirely new – adventure in the mountains…