I knew my 16-day trip to Egypt with 3 midlife friends would be a fun, budget-friendly adventure, but it also became a test of stamina and strength for me.

We had no tour big bus providing a comfy, air-conditioned bubble. Rather, our ambitious travel schedule took us through half the country, hauling our backpacks up modest hotel staircases and navigating every natural and human-made obstacle in our path. Although we had quiet evenings, including a few days by a rooftop pool, by day our bodies were moving in lots of ways.

Bodies in Motion

In the desert near the Baharia Oasis we climbed up (then surfed down) sand dunes. In downtown Cairo, the honking cars, uneven pavement, and throngs of moving people in the street demanded constant physical manouvering. We toured ancient sites out in the hot sun, including Luxor’s Avenue of Sphinxes and Aswan’s Forgotten Obelisk. We also used steep ramps and narrow tunnels inside multiple tombs and pyramids, crouching under low ceilings carved over three and four thousand years ago!

As well, we hiked three silent, stunning canyons in the South Sinai region that shimmered white, red, and multi-coloured in the sunshine. The next day, after a caravan of camels and their handlers got us most of the way up Mt Sinai, we used 750 steep steps to get up to its peak.

Later, it was a relief to float face down in the salty water of the Red Sea over the most beautiful coral and schools of fish I have seen. We snorkelled twice: off the beach in Sharm El Sheik and off a glass-bottom boat in Hurghada. But even in and near the water, I had to be thinking about dehydration and sunburn.

Getting hurt could mean getting stuck. I nearly did a few times, once when I mildly rolled an ankle in the Coloured Canyon and when I jammed a finger on a tomb doorway at the Saqqara necropolis. But it felt good to keep moving. At least twice we saw a tourist who seemed unprepared or was having great difficulty getting through the tomb shafts.

We covered thousands of steps per day, even on our 2- to 7-hour travel days. At the last minute I decided to leave my fitness tracker at home, and I’m glad I did. It helped me to make sense of how I was feeling in my body rather than by stats on a screen.

Caring Co-Travellers

And my body did feel many things, as I was under the weather for a good part of the trip: first menstrual cramps, a head cold that turned to cough, then mild heatstroke after the first time snorkeling, and finally a stomach bug. On my worst night, I laid awake shaking with chills, sipping tepid tablet-purified water, and waiting for dawn (or death, I had thought self-piteously).

But I survived. As a white, English-speaking tourist with a credit card and travel insurance on a holiday, I was never really in serious danger. I saw many Egyptians who may have been facing economic hardships and health risks I will never have to deal with as a middle-class Canadian.

Nevertheless, I am so grateful for my three travel buddies, who showed each other constant care throughout our journey. We divided snacks, each bought rounds of water, shared everything from tissues to electrolytes, and carried the mood for each other until someone sick (usually me) recovered.

Kim, who had planned the travel and booked the local guides and drivers, happily made last-minute arrangements to help me join later when an early morning tour of Isis Temple in Aswan wasn’t possible for me. This caring company was the heart of my trip.

Proof of Life

I believe that our greater exertions paid off in greater fun. In exchange for living out of packs and in our sore, dust-covered bodies, we got to see and sleep in neat places, including under the desert stars, where we felt extremely lucky to be there, together and alive.

There’s a certain idea of midlife that says to slow down, be careful, rest more. This trip refused that. It demanded and invited all kinds of motion, reminding me how much the body can still do when it must. It turns out that I was strong enough for Egypt.

And by the end of the trip, I used nearly every pill I’d packed and every muscle I had. But getting over everything became part of my adventure story. I came home with a mildly sprained finger, hardwon but still overpriced souvenirs, and a feeling that my flawed and frustrating body could still bring me much, much joy.