After another beautiful nights sleep of warmth and silence I was up and ready and raring to go at 7am. The day began with an impromptu run across the desert after the wind decided to take a bin bag away with it. Im still taking pride in not leaving any trace of litter behind. Not knowing what else the day had in store, I set off into the desert haze. I had a nice breeze again but I could still feel the hit setting in at around 9am.
After a couple of hours I was beginning to get quite hungry. Breakfast consisted of finishing off the packet of biscuits from last nights pudding. There were only 3 left and I only had a litre and a half of bottled swimming pool to get me to the first shop, which was proving to be quite far away.
Ras Gharib was the only town on my map but surely there would be a small truck stop on the way I thought. Ras Gharib was 60miles that's just under 100km from where I started. After 3.5 hours of cycling, it became apparent that there was nothing, not even a random tap, I was going to have to ration and put in one of the toughest shifts of the trip so far if I was going to survive the desert.
As the wheels turned, the temperature rose, my lips dried and my legs got heavier. 60 miles! That's a regular days cycling in Europe but today I would have to do it with just a tiny bit of water and in the desert of all places!!!! I believed I could do it I just had to focus on my physical endurance. The chlorine water aftertaste gives you a dry mouth which is not good when you only have 2 bottles left and you're in African heat. I would take two minuscule sips then keep a slightly bigger third sip and see how long I could keep it my mouth.
If I concentrate on my breathing, keep my mouth hydrated, time will go quicker and I won't drink as much I thought. This worked for a while but then i could feel the lactic acid seeping into my legs so I stopped doing it to make deeper breaths. I could see buildings emerge through the dusty haze but most were either derelict or Army bases. I wasn't going to risk taking a detour over towards the Red Sea just incase there was nothing there, the resorts had finished in Zafaaranah.
My speedometer was changed to top speed but I was still able to count down the km from the signs. 16km left that's 1 hour at 10mph or less if I find some energy from somewhere and put it in, I thought. I had no energy at all, after 4.5 hours of water rationing, controlled breathing and aching muscles, my legs had turned to jelly. The Egyptian Desert was trying to take me down like the Alps but this time it was with heat and dehydration. Come on, just keep the legs going, keep the head up. My head was drooping and I couldn't lift my arms anymore to acknowledge the supportive beeps or thumbs up. I was drained and I was fighting hard.
I could see lots more buildings emerge though the haze, this time most of them either oil/gas works or even the odd telescope. Then from nowhere, the town emerged with the distinctive silhouette of a petrol station forecourt. That'll do me, just get to the station. I summoned enough strength to lock the bike where the army wanted me to then I stumbled around the shop for anything, I wasn't in any state to be picky. Water, fanta, sandwich, brownies, done.
My head slumped onto the table and I shovelled the sandwich in, downed the water and sat on the chair in the cafe area more fragile than the glass cups they drink green tea out of. I wobbled outside to find shade and picked a spot to lie down and get some rest. Despite the efforts of around 8 or 9 flies to keep me awake I dropped off almost instantly. The flies here are unbearable, I cocooned my head and arms in my t-shirt as they tend to enjoy sitting on Beirdre. After a good snooze which also included a few snores that woke me up, I felt human again about 3 hours later at 3:30pm.
I went back into the shop to get some more water and suspected I had been ripped off the first time as I bought almost the exact same and they were individually different prices, which is annoying but at the time I couldn't really stand up let alone question my total and try to argue it in Arabic.
I got back on Nigel and felt surprisingly good albeit pretty bloated but I could handle that. I just rolled through the army checkpoint as usual, they normally spot me in the line and wave me through. I put in an extra hour or so and started looking for a good spot again behind the cover of some sand mounds.
I found a great spot about 200m from the road but well out of sight from anything. I sat there after setting everything up in blissful tranquility. The warm breeze didn't disturbed the thick sand, and the moon was rising again through the dusty haze to enlighten the landscape of nothingness.
The desert had showed me what an unforgiving landscape it could be, I was pleased that I began rationing my water from the start and was proud of my endurance. I was then rewarded with an evening of beauty, a landscape and experience so extreme that I won't forget how alive I felt right there and then. Cycle touring puts you through pain and desperation sometimes so when you get out of it the other side you can feel satisfaction and more alive than ever.
After today, I could've said, "yeah, just cycled 60miles in 30 degree heat in the desert with just 1.5 litres of water and 3 biscuits, didnt i, easy it was!"
But it wasn't.
It was one of the hardest days I've ever cycled but another challenge or another day down and more strength and more satisfaction gained from it.
Tomorrow, my next town is 110 miles away. I'm seriously hoping for something in between!
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