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Travel to Fayoum 

Today we left Cairo behind and drove south-west into the desert toward Fayoum-an oasis region where the desert meets life in a different rhythm. Leaving Cairo felt like stepping off one world and into another.

As the city thinned out, the landscape opened into wide, soft sand and sky. It’s amazing how quickly noise disappears in Egypt when you leave the Nile. The light felt cleaner. The air, quieter. The horizon, endless: flat stretches of sand, long runs of power lines, and a massive cemetery that seemed to go on forever, a modern Valley of the Kings, a solemn city of the dead watching over the living.

As we approached Fayoum, we were stopped at a police checkpoint. Our driver handled the questions — who we were, where we were from, where we were headed — relaying everything to the officers. I wasn’t nervous, but Josh fully expected to be shaken down for baksheesh. Instead, it was routine and we were waved through.

Fayoum desert oasis

Then the landscape shifted: an oasis of small villages, palms, olive groves, and fields planted in that wonderfully chaotic Egyptian way – corn beside cabbages beside sunflowers. And then suddenly Lake Qaroun, a mirror-flat stretch of water that blends into the sand as though the desert simply changed its mind.

Too early to check in, we wandered the local streets of Tunis Village, and found ourselves in the middle of what turned out to be a holiday – stalls, kids everywhere, little rides, and that festive buzz. Once again, I was a minor celebrity. The few phrases we’d learned from Adel earned us huge smiles. We sat at a café where a local schoolgirl proudly practised her English and helped the waiter serve us; everyone involved had a great time. Later we discovered the celebration was connected to a three-day film festival in Tunis Village, which made sense, because the whole place felt creative, artsy, and alive. I took so many photos just of doorways and windows and street art.

We wandered through the festival stalls, picking up a few more gifts before heading back to Tzila Lodge. Check-in revealed a beautiful, boho, Tulum-style room – airy, natural, and relaxing. The kind of place with low buildings, candlelight, and cushions on the floor.

We booked a desert trip for tomorrow and ended the day on the rooftop, listening to the soundtrack around us: animals, the call to prayer, the occasional horn, birdsong, and the soft hum of a town celebrating. Surprisingly, there were eucalypts growing and it was strange to see them inhabited by unusual birds.

Josh decided it was the perfect place to have a nap and I decided it was the perfect place to start reading Naguib Mahfouz’s ‘Children of the Alley’ – a Nobel Prize–winning novel that traces a sweeping, symbolic history of humanity through the generations of one Cairo alley. Each section follows a different “son” whose story mirrors figures like Adam, Moses, Jesus and Muhammad, exploring the cycle of power, oppression and the eternal human struggle for justice – all set within one family’s tangled legacy.

As I read, a couple from Cairo sat nearby and soon struck up a conversation. They wanted to know everything about how I’d enjoyed Egypt, and they had just as many questions about Australia. We chatted for a long while. easy, warm, curious conversation. One of those small, lovely travel moments that makes you feel welcomed exactly where you are.

By evening, the desert air cooled (I needed a jacket for the first time). We ate dinner with two competitive cats, had a short walk, watched a movie and drifted off to sleep.