The first time I met Usama I was wondering through the Sinai desert in Egypt, on the one side

the bright blue sparkling Red Sea surrounded by the pink and brown hues of the desert sand

and distant mountains of Saudi Arabia. He came out a ghosha (hut) in his underpants, dark

skinned, tall and athletic physique.  I was struck by his beauty as I watched him walk to the sea,

the slight waves brushing against his ankles whilst I eyed out his bum! When he turned back and I

saw the shyness and humility in his green eyes, I was smitten. There’s not much green in the

desert, his eyes made up for this loss! He was the only Egyptian I found living in the Sinai desert

at this time, Bedouin live in this area, they are nomadic. He had heard about me before I

arrived from my Bedouin friend Salman, whose wives and children are still

good friends of ours. He had heard that there were two women passing through, one was

Australian and easy going the other Irish (??), who is not looking for a husband so leave her

alone, was me.

He was immediately interested in me before he even saw me, as sex tourism is massive in holiday

resorts and it was clear I wasn’t that kind. Let it be known that if I were I would’ve had a very busy

time, but my intention was to go on a pilgrimage with a camel and a Bedouin (who was not to talk

to me!). As I sat on the floor of the desert, well cushioned by a rug, being stalked by a heroin

addict who thought that once he got me in the desert I might be seduced by his spaced out stare!

I made it clear to Salman that this was not acceptable and very soon he was cordoned off from me

and I could relax and breathe in this sacred place.  Many prophets had come through these wadis

(valleys through the mountains), to meditate and be in silence, but very soon I realised the

mountains had a very distinctive hum and it took me a while to reduce its volume in my head.

My first glimpse of the Sinai desert had been from an old beaten up bus, at sunrise on a cold

wintry morning. The journey had been broken up by many road blocks, where eventually I

learnt to just hold my passport in my hand so I could get some sleep.  I soon learnt how

intimidating these stops are for the Egyptians as many are taken off the bus and are held for weeks

by the police. As the first light broke the mass of stars, i saw mountains when I had expected vast

sands but as I saw the light changing the colours and contours in the rocks something happened

in me that I had never experienced before. I felt a sense of belonging to this land, and its people.

A connection and understanding that even after years away are firmly held. Arriving in Dahab,

a mass of buildings that once used to boast a long beach of golden sand, this feeling passed but

once I stepped into the desert and left civilization behind, I was home. It’s a long walk from

RasAbagulum, the Bedouin village that we got our supplies from, I was offered a ride on the

camel, but wanted to feel the stones under my feet. We were followed by a black dog (abhorred

by most Arabs), she became my friend and I called her Sadika (friend in  Arabic). I had no idea

at the time that our ‘safaris’ would take place in the wadis, the  mouth of this valley that feeds the

sea with water from the mountains, as I entered my body released the weight of the luggage from

my past. Thus began a time of  introspection guided by the powerful energy and magic of this land.

My first night spent in the desert, I had always dreamed of,  and even the warmth of Sadika could

not keep me from freezing. We climbed  mountains and basked in the warmth of the valleys.  After

my pilgrimage with Mohammed we returned to the village and as I sat staring at the panoramic

view of the mountains and the sea, I knew I had to take another look at the gorgeous Alrheiba.

I became restless and found an Israeli Doctor who wanted to stay at Alreheiba (the camp Usama

worked at), so I travelled with him. When we arrived Usama was convinced that the Doctor

and I were together, and as it was so cold the three of us spent the nights together inside the

ghosha round the fire, that was when I first heard the stories of Egypt and Usama’s life. I was

supposed to head back to Dahab but the desert has a way of making people stay and after the

Doctor left I still found myself there. I was worried about being alone in Alreheiba with Usama,

as the camp at the time was a 45 minute walk (no roads) from anyone, but I felt so at ease and

I couldn’t bear to leave.  We spent most of the days talking, he would cook for me and sometimes

catch fish (which I didn’t eat then) and take me to the mountains. My favorite thing in the whole

world is cooking round the fire and sitting on the desert sand beneath galaxies of light talking .

As the nights passed and the inevitable day of departure grew nearer, I knew I had developed a

deep connection with the Sinai and this man and no matter what I knew I would return. And so

with a heavy heart and feet that refused to take me, I made the trek back to Dahab to catch the

bus to Cairo, crying all the way.

I was in love.