My trip to the White Desert started off like any normal Egyptian adventure—zero preparation, maximum confidence, and a strong belief that "???? ???? ???? ?? ?????? ????."


    The moment I stepped onto the sand, I felt like an explorer… for exactly five seconds, until I tripped over a rock that looked exactly like Uncle Hossam’s head. Everywhere I looked, the desert was playing tricks on me. One rock looked like a ta’ameya the size of a truck, another like a chicken that just needed some garlic dip, and I’m pretty sure I saw one that resembled my math teacher mid-exam.


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    Then came sunset. The sky turned into a masterpiece, and for a brief moment, I thought, Wow, maybe I was meant to be here. Maybe this is my destiny…


    I stood in awe, feeling like the main character in an epic adventure movie. I was the hero… I was unstoppable… I was freezing.


    The temperature dropped faster than my grades. No one told me the desert goes from “summer in Aswan” to “Antarctica at midnight” in a matter of hours. I realized I had made a terrible mistake.


    I forgot my jacket. My confidence disappeared. I was now just a guy in the middle of the desert, shaking like a tuk-tuk with engine trouble. But hey, how bad could it get?


    …A question I would soon regret asking.