Cliches are not my style, so in claiming 'Holiday of a Lifetime' I am serious.
Ten days, in Egypt, with my Arabian Dance Class - it WAS incredible. The journey into the desert was eventful enough - the flight to Cairo within weeks of 9/11, for a while, seemed unlikely to happen at all.. From Cairo to Sharm-el-Sheik by minibus was more demanding on my tender rear than camel riding turned out to be. Fortunately.
The 'mock bedouin camp' hotel in S el S was a culture shock. I was propositioned by a young man who would have done most things for $10 ... I tried not to be REALLY shocked. I didn't know where to direct my anger, so I kept it to myself.
The Bedouin who hosted our group were commissioned by a charitable trust, and paid fairly.
'Day Three, 'Meet The Camels'.
So said the itinerary. Sinai camels, I was reassured, are gentle beasts, not like their vicious Sahara cousins. Fair enough - apart from a tendency to hang me up in thorny acacia trees as he reached for a snack, Azell and I got on well enough.
(I shall never forget the 'three lurch' mount-and rise motion. Lurch one, I scramble into the saddle and take up the reins. Lurch two, Azell raises himself up, from kneeling , onto his front feet, lurch three, Azell raises himself onto all fours, and with a little encouragement, we're off!)
For seven days Faranjela's clan pitched camp for the group, cooked for us and watched, amused, as we pursued our plans. Early each morning we would rise at dawn and rehearse; an exotic addition to the spectacular desert scenery. We would then camel from place to place, going where all tourists do, then in the evenings we would dance, in costume, to oud and drum, round the camp fire.
I have clambered up ancient sand dunes, visited prehistoric villages, climbed Mount Sinai, danced with Bedouin women, bought countless beaded items, swam in the Red Sea and slept under the stars.
A friend told me before I went, that no-one returns from the desert the same person that entered it. It's true. It's true.