June 2025
A journey across the sand and sea
A Trailblazers journal
The journey began on Egypt’s north coast, in El Alamein a modern port where the sea meets the desert wind. We stayed one night, long enough to feel the stillness of the place before moving inland.
South of the coast, Siwa appeared out of the dunes like a pause in time. The air shimmered with heat; salt lakes lay white and silent. We swam in Cleopatra’s Spring, wandered through palm groves, and let the slow rhythm of the oasis take hold.
A local Sufi, part poet and part philosopher, guided us through Siwa’s stories tales of survival, balance, and faith. Evenings gathered around the fire, chicken buried beneath the sand to cook while candlelight flickered against the desert walls.
From the Mountains to the Red Sea
Day later we crossed the desert to St. Catherine, where the Sinai Mountains rose from the sand in calm silence.
We began the climb before dawn, the path lit only by stars. When the sun reached the ridge, the landscape turned to gold, and all the noise in our minds disappeared.
The route east led to water once again. In El Gouna, coral reefs and turquoise lagoons replaced dunes and stone. Life slowed to a different pace hours spent swimming, sailing, resting. The sea became its own kind of conversation.
Further along the coast, Red Sea Global and the St. Regis Red Sea Resort stood apart on an island of white sand and silence. The horizon stretched clean in every direction, and the absence of sound felt like luxury in its truest form.
Across the Gulf
Crossing into Saudi Arabia, we wandered the coral-stone alleys of Jeddah, where carved balconies leaned over narrow streets and the air smelled faintly of spice and salt. The colors blues faded by sun, wood silvered by time spoke of lives lived close to the water.
The path turned east again toward Oman, where the land shifted from desert to green. In Salalah, baobab trees stood scattered across hills perfumed with frankincense, and clouds drifted low enough to touch.
In Muscat, we followed the spice trails through bazaars and old forts, and later entered the wide silence of the Wahiba Sands. There, under a sky that never seemed to end, we slept beside the dunes and watched them change shape with the wind.
AlUla
The last stop was AlUla, a valley carved by time and light.
At sunset, the cliffs shifted from amber to rose, and the mirrored walls of the Maraya Concert Hall caught every shade the desert reflecting itself in perfect stillness.
When the Pilatus PC-12 lifted off for Europe, the desert faded below in layers of shadow and light. What remained was not the itinerary, but a series of impressions salt and heat, open sky, the patience of stone.
Travel rarely offers clarity while it’s happening. It works quietly, reshaping the way you see things once you’re home. Some places test you; others slow you down. Together they remind you that travel isn’t about leaving it’s about learning how to pay attention.
Carved in White, Drowned in Blue – follow us to …
April 2025
