After a short stay in the seaside town of Marsa Maturah, notable only by a dip in the Red Sea at a rather ordinary beach, I headed to Siwa, near the Liberian border. I booked three nights in a place simply known as Forrest Camp, five minutes’ walk from the main street. My “tent” was a small limestone hut, a ten-second walk from the shared bathroom.
It was comfortable enough, but I was disappointed that the pool featured in the listing had not been functional for months. I also had to choose between plugging in my phone or the fan, which seemed incredibly unfair.
However, all things considered, after spending so much time in crumbling high-rises, the natural and low-lying surroundings were welcome. That night my pay hit my account, and I decided to live it up with a fancy dinner. I walked to the main street and to one of the highest rated resturants in town that was not in a hotel.
I ordered Tagine el Amir, a vegetable stew topped with cheese, and it came with rice, lentil soup, and a small salad, and was delicious.
With two mango smoothies, coffee, and water, the bill was less than I would pay in Australia for an upgraded KFC meal, and I happily tipped the very attentive wait staff.
I walked into what I thought of as the downtown area after dinner, and ended up in an alley focused on selling handicrafts, which was more picturesque than tempting.
The next morning, after a coffee that was supposedly the best in Siwa, I flagged down a Tuk-tuk and, after a long and complicated negotiation, I headed to Cleopatra’s Pool. A hot spring feeds a man-made circular pool, with a constant temperature of 29°C. It’s definitely a tourist trap, surrounded by cafes and souvenir shops, and it cost me 100 EGP before I even got my toes wet.
According to legend, Cleopatra once swam here, and locals believe the water has beautifying effects. Interestingly, the most attractive person around was a long-skirted European woman, who stared at the pool longingly but never got in. Perhaps she was concerned that increasing her already considerable beauty would be more trouble than it was worth. I, however, had no such issues and quickly stripped and spent a quarter of an hour paddling around, dodging the Spanish. Drying off and enjoying my second coffee for the day, I did feel more beautiful than before, but I am unsure if that was simply the power of suggestion. After declining offers of ice cream, tours, and transport, I exited the enclosure around the pool, walked a hundred metres before realising I was going in the wrong direction, and walked back through the pool towards the Temple of Unn Ubayd.
Built for the worship of Amun around 340BCE, it’s now one restored wall and a lot of rubble. It was also blessedly free of other humans. On closer examination, the restored wall features carvings typical of Ancient Egypt.
From the road, I could see on a nearby hill the main purpose of this walk in the desert sun, another temple of Amun, but more commonly known as the Oracle Temple. Now I put my phone away and relied on my somewhat dubious sense of direction. This caused me to walk through what I suspect was backyards, luckily the owners were too busy elsewhere to complain about this casual trespassing, and I made my way to the trail leading up to the temple, where small children tried to sell me toys, but also pointed me towards the ticket office, where a sleepy man hit me up for 120 EGP.
Dedicated to the sun god, the temple housed a divine oracle of impeccable pedigree. The most famous of its supplicants was Alexander the Great. What the great man was told here is now lost. Whatever the truth, its importance is undeniable, and it’s impressive in its semi-restored state.
It’s also worth noting that the site is very understated compared to many historical sites in Egypt, with no surrounding tourist trap infrastructure, not counting the persistent but good-natured children. It seemed people were getting here via tour groups or hire cars, rather than walking in the sun like idiots. I couldn’t find any tuk-tuks, and, giving up, I flagged down a man on a motorbike and trailer carting dates, and managed to convince him to take me into town. Back in the main street, I handed him 100 EGP, the same amount I paid the tuk tuk driver to get to Cleopatra’s Pool, which made him very happy, making me wonder how long it would take him to earn that transporting dates around.
Adrian's Got The Moose 