Into the sands of time: Exploring Egypt's white and black deserts

“In the desert, there’s a solution for everything,” our guide, Ahmed, told us. “Except the wind,” he added with a wry smile, zipping up his light jacket.

- Claire Thomas

As the sun dipped below the horizon on our second night camping in Egypt’s surreal White Desert, the stillness shattered. A sandstorm had swept in without warning, devouring the landscape in a wall of dust and grit. Sand whipped around the towering limestone formations — already otherworldly by day — and morphed them into ghostly silhouettes, their shapes shifting like mirages in the swirling haze.

One formation, resembling a giant bird of prey, seemed to flicker and pulse in the storm. Another, with a regal, timeworn profile, bore an uncanny resemblance to the Great Sphinx. It was impossible not to wonder: Could these strange limestone sentinels have inspired ancient Egyptians to carve some of their most iconic monuments?

I've always been drawn to deserts — their vastness, their defiance, their silence. Now, based in Cairo, I couldn't resist the opportunity to spend a few days off-grid in the White Desert. With an Egyptian guide and driver, my husband and I had embarked on a three-day, two-night excursion that took us deep into one of Egypt's lesser-known wonders.

Through the swirling chaos, I glimpsed the faint outline of a figure in the distance, ghostlike in the storm. We thought our eyes were playing tricks on us as the wind intensified and the figure vanished. Only later did we learn that a woman from another camp had become disoriented when the swirling sands obliterated all sense of direction. Fortunately, she hadn't wandered far and was soon found. In the desert, even experienced travellers can quickly lose their bearings.