The symbol of Egypt, if it could be argued there’s only one, is the Nile. So much of daily life revolves around the great river that the deserts of Egypt — which make up over 90 percent of the country — tend to be largely overlooked. The breathtaking, dramatic landscapes of the desert and the long, rich history of these areas offer intriguing adventures for tourists and academics alike, albeit for often different reasons. Three marvelously photographed books, each with a unique perspective, venture into the barely inhabited corners of the country.

Peppered with poetry, quotes from explorers past and stunning photography, this book is a treat. Dutch adventuress and author Arita Baaijens shares her experiences of decades in the desert, beginning with her first, rather ill-fated, journey into the empty quarters of Egypt in 1988, only to quit her job as environmentalist and return to the desert once again in 1990. Spending months at a time exploring the farthest reaches of the desert with a small camel caravan, Baaijens confronted herself, escaped the artificial pressures of modern life, and found peace in the not-so-tranquil wilderness of Egypt’s and Sudan’s barren outskirts.

When Egypt began its large land reclamation projects and GPS allowed motorized desert tourism, Baaijens deserted the Egyptian deserts in favor of Sudan in 2003. More significant than the change of country was the change from an empty to a populated desert. Egypt’s deserts are by no means safe, but in general the most dangerous thing about them is the elements. In the Sudan, Baaijens found a desert full of bandits and cruelty, and found that she had to compromise — trading her solitary travels for her safety. Recalling the cultural issues she encountered across the border, Baaijens admits that while in Sudan she missed the solitude of Egypt, and while in Egypt she missed the camaraderie of Sudan.

She didn’t only travel with camels and the occasional guide (and in Sudan, bodyguard); Baaijens also took her camera along. Photos of her journeys are accompanied by sometimes amusing, sometimes poignant descriptions of her life as an explorer, the people she met, and the animals she depended on.

Khaled Habib

Beyond her own experiences, she also pays tribute to the explorers that came before her. As she says, “before the introduction of GPS navigating devices, I found my way using a compass and a watch, keeping track of how many minutes I’d followed the plotted course. It was a nerve-wracking way of navigating, especially when the map was full of blank spaces. The car tracks, British signposts and empty petrol cans made me feel as if I had company along the way.” Only fair, then, to continue the legacy of the men who left the tracks and those who came before them.

In chronicling this one chapter in a full and varied life, Baaijens writes in a conversational, frank and elegant style. She was obsessed with the desert and so she went to the desert. Later, she found that what had been an intense and full life in the beginning was becoming routine, a “habit.” Brave at the beginning, and brave at the end, Baaijens admitted that her obsession had become her pastime, and has since moved on to Central Asia and Serbia, leaving behind an enthralling read.

At the diagonal opposite of Baaijens’ stomping grounds are the desert mountains of Sinai, which over the past two decades have rapidly opened up to tourist development. The region’s native tribes have seen dramatic changes to their surroundings and their way of life, especially the Gabaliya Bedouin, primary residents of the Ring Dyke area in the now heavily touristed St. Katherine Protectorate.

Khaled Habib

In Gardens, Zalat, professor of biodiversity at Suez Canal University, and Gilbert, associate professor of ecology at Nottingham University, set out to document and thereby preserve some of the tribe’s culture and history before it is lost to the pressures of modernity. While development improves the living conditions of the tribes in some ways, change comes with loss, and embracing comfort takes away a heritage that the world should know it’s missing.

Zalat and Gilbert start with the region’s general history. Sinai is a crossroads between continents and the repository of enormous geological wealth. As the authors tally the resources available to those living off the land, one is struck by the meager provisions grudgingly offered by Mother Nature, and an admiration for the people able to eke out a living from it. Certainly, food is available, water can be found, and shelter can be constructed from the materials available — the landscape is hardly barren. Nevertheless, the hardscrabble life of the Gabaliya Bedouin feels precarious.

Their gardens are the lifeblood of these mountain dwellers; a notable departure from the traditional Bedouin lifestyle, which typically relies on herd animals as the only reliable source of food. The authors take us on a journey through the history of the people, orchard agriculture in Sinai, the logistics of the lifestyle (establishing and maintaining a garden and the laws and cultural mores surrounding them), and the lifestyle itself. They then move on to the more academic portion of the book, with statistics and discussions of the crops, wild plants and animals that the Bedouin rely on. Complete with photographs and watercolor paintings, this book is an excellent reference for anyone with a particular interest in the heart of Sinai.

Man is compelled to leave traces of himself behind, and centuries later, other men are compelled to find those traces. Archeologists Sidebotham, Hense and Nouwens have spent a great deal of time and effort looking for, analyzing and writing about the traces of the gone-but-not-forgotten men and women who made their lives and left their marks in Egypt’s Eastern Desert.

Today, the mountainous Eastern Desert is known primarily for the beach resorts that pepper its coastline, but in Pharaonic and Greco-Roman times, this barren landscape was a hive of activity along an important trade route. At first, prehistoric peoples inhabited what was then a grassland. Later, the Pharaohs sent expeditions in search of emeralds in the now-arid mountains. Then the Ptolemies came and built cities and roads across a relentlessly unforgiving landscape. The authors look at every stage, painting a picture of the people, the roads, the cities, the geology, the politics and the religion of the region.

Although their interests diverge — Hense is also an artist, Sidebotham a professor of ancient history and Nouwens an Egyptologist — all three are archeologists at heart, and chapter five, “The Joys and Sorrows of the Desert Survey,” is an entertaining account of the realities of fieldwork.

The photographs of the modern landscape and artistic renditions of ancient life, based on archeological evidence, make this book a treasure of knowledge, and a visual treat. et

During my short-lived stint as an English teacher, I found myself with an American tex tbook teaching Egyptian adults what to say right after they crash into a complete stranger while rollerblading. Invaluable lessons, because I’m sure that’s exactly what all those pharmacists, DHL employees and housewives did after class: Strap on the ‘blades and hit Cairo’s empty, well-paved streets in search of someone to practice their English with.

Technically speaking, the text did its job — it gave students new vocabulary and grammar to develop their budding language skills. It did very little, however, to make English fun or meaningful.

Frustrated by generic, Western-centric teaching material, Dahab-based teacher and author Bernadette Simpson has written An ABC Escapade through Egypt, a reader that explores “the many wonders of Egypt on this alphabetical escapade.” Targeting American grades four through eight (ages nine through 12), An ABC Escapade has a local angle for every letter from “balancing baladi bread” to “hidden hieroglyphs” to “relaxing at the Red Sea.” (Sorry kids, no rollerblades here.)

The diversity of the 26 topics is clearly deliberate. Luminescent lanterns and crunchy konafa may seem like no-brainers to every child old enough to watch reruns of the Ramadan cartoon Bakar, but the urban reader can still appreciate interesting factoids about “jumping jerboas” and “unbelievable underwater urchins.” Grownups reading to their children will get a kick out of “zooming Zalamokkat,” the end-of-alphabet tribute to ammiya slang for different Mercedes-Benz models.

While potentially new vocabulary is underlined throughout and included in a short glossary, An ABC Escapade through Egypt is not a traditional textbook. Each entry is illustrated with large, colorful images that make An ABC Escapade as much a coffee table book as an educational tool, and your favorite foreigner is likely to find it a charming, if unsophisticated souvenir.

Simpson taught elementary and special education students in Cairo for eight years before taking a Master of Education degree in Curriculum and Instruction; An ABC Escapade through Egypt is her first book. The author has also created a companion website with links to related audio, video, photos and text to further encourage the young readers.

Bernadette Simpson self-published, 2008 www.bernadettesimpson.com (includes list of Maadi and Dahab bookstores carrying the book) et