So after the worst night in my life and after passing through Farafra Oasis we arrived at Dakhla Oasis at 6am. Of course there was no toilet on this bus and no toilet stops because it was Ramadan and no-one eats or drinks so they don’t go to the toilet.
This is were I was met by a very nice Egyptian man but I didn’t know it at the time. I was wary to say the least and a little curt but I think he put it down to me being a touch tired.
Anyway he kindly pointed out that we should have got off at Farafra Oasis to go to Luxor. I put that down as another reason I didn’t like mole face, because he told us to get to Dakhla Oasis. The man then helpfully quoted out some prices for a service taxi to Kharga Oasis which when I checked in the Lonely Planet checked out as being spot on. Usually when some Egyptian helpfully quotes you a price for something you get quoted double and have to barter, trick or force them to slightly reduce their price and seeing as this guy had a monopoly on getting out of this tiny Oasis where nothing existed I assumed he would quote a ridiculous price.
There was however one small catch, we had to wait around until the taxi got full with 13 people before it would leave. After sitting around in the hot sun for a few hours and seeing the only living things wander past being flies, a goat herd and its little herder boy with a stick and some vultures circling around waiting for Hannah and I to pass out from the heat to pick our bones dry we assumed that perhaps this bus wasn’t leaving in a hurry. In fact we hadn’t even seen 13 people in this oasis at all so presumably this was only used for special occasions like when all the goats had run off and the men rounded up a posse of everyone who lived there and got a taxi out to Kharga so they could round up everyone there and go look for them. The goats were well guarded by goat boy with a stick so it didn’t look like anyone else was coming.
I asked the driver, “Do you think the goats are going to be lost soon?”
“Excuse me?”
“I mean is anyone coming soon do you think?”
“Oh maybe tomorrow there will be enough.”
The mole face fury raised another notch.
“Can we buy all the tickets and leave? Actually how much is it straight to Luxor? (600km away)”
“£500($125)”
“Too expensive, we only have £400” after the much haggling, tricking and clever wrangling I turned to Hannah proudly, “I got him down to £500!”
“Mika that’s what it was at the start!”
I decided to then look into the Lonely Planet where it informed me that tourists most probably won’t get a taxi from Dakhla to Luxor because the police don’t let them through without an escort. It did however point out that if you are extremely lucky you may get one but have to pay £660.
The nice man said, “The driver doesn’t want to take you but I am a high man in the village and I like you so I am making him.”
I figured it was because I was playing a little hard to get he liked me. Maybe this was the way to make them like you. Let them try and win a smile without making it easy. In fact I was a nice guy wasn’t I? Very likeable. I had lots of friends and I think all like me. I would have to tell Hannah that when she finally stopped talking to him. I mean come on she was finding out all this stuff about him and smiling and asking him about himself. If she wasn’t careful she was going to ruin everything by being so nice to him.
Anyway because I was playing so hard to get he did me a deal without me even having to say anything we got it for £450, just over $100 for a 6hr journey.
At the first checkpoint some cheeky policemen get a lift home with us. They should have paid us for the privilege of a private car, it was a relief when they finally left the car.
At one stage of the journey the boot would fly open and everything go tumbling out the back. Lucky we had our bags in the front. Then he would put it back in we would go 1km and it would fly open again and everything not bolting in would tumble out again. A few times later he got some rope and tied the door down so when the dust storms came it would real nice having the privilege of our own personal dust storm inside because it was only half closed. He almost charged us extra for the authentic desert experience.
At our hostel we were greeted by our Hostel manager, “Hello, Welcome, Where are you from?” We responded appropriately.
“Where did you arrive from?”
“Dakhla Oasis.”
“Excuse me?”
“Dakhla, private car.”
He looked really amazed, “I didn’t know you could get a car through the desert. The police don’t usually let you because of Islamic terrorists and bandits.”
Maybe the police wee not free loaders after all but really were our protectors, I mean they were carrying machine guns. Guns which they got really angry when I tried to pick one up. So we were really lucky to have that nice man get us a taxi and we didn’t even know until we got to Luxor. We were also lucky to see a part of the Sahara which not many tourists ever get to see. It had been quite cool driving thought the sandstorms and seeing the massive moving sand mountains etc.
The previous few days had blessed us with about 6hrs fitful sleep so we were absolutely exhausted so after a bite to eat and planning the next day we went to bed.