Bex Band on walking in Israel's Negev desert

On both sides of us tall crags towered above, almost vertical, boxing us in. The valley floor was wide and flat. Turning another corner, I spotted something up ahead that initially made me think I must be hallucinating. Nestled in among the dry, rocky terrain was an explosion of greenery and, right in the centre of the oasis, Ein Akev spring. It was a perfect bowl carved out in the smooth rock, the water the same green as the trees that surrounded it. Above the spring on the vertical crag a wall of plants spilled over the top of the mountain like a waterfall.

You could be mistaken into thinking there is no life to be found in the barren landscape of the desert, but each day brought something new. Sometimes it might be a creature hidden and camouflaged, easy to miss, like a gecko or a snake, and sometimes something glaringly obvious like this hub of flora and fauna.

Nearing the trees, I noticed the temperature drop a few degrees instantly, a cool moisture hanging in the air. Rich palms and Euphrates poplars towered over us and reeds scratched at our legs. Sunlight shimmered and danced on the water’s surface. Gil rushed past me, ditching his bag. He stripped off his clothes and made his way to the edge of the smooth rock, where there was a sudden drop-off into the water. He paused before doing an exaggerated jump, fully submerging himself.

‘Damn, that’s cold!’ he said, shooting back out of the water with a shriek. ‘You coming in?’

‘Just my legs,’ I was so sluggish that even the thought of undressing and redressing seemed like a task too big. Instead, I pulled off my boots and socks, rolled up my shorts and lay on the edge in the sun, slowly lowering my legs into the water. Gil was right, it was freezing, and I shuddered at the cold against my skin. I lay back on my pack, closing my eyes against the bright sun. The top of my body too hot, and the bottom too cold.

Gil ducked and dived in the water, playing the way a child would in a pool. It reminded me of when we’d first met while travelling, and a fun-loving Gil who I’d not seen for a while.

My breathing slowed, the sluggishness in my body pulling me backwards into sleep, until a desert resident snatched what could have been a long and peaceful rest. I felt the unbearable sensation of tiny feet crawling on the exposed skin on my arm. I wafted the fly away, then scratched at the itch it left behind. A few moments later I felt the same sensation but this time on the end of my nose, then on my arm again, then on my ear. No matter how much I wafted, they always returned. Waiting in anticipation of where the next fly was going to land was intolerable.

The huge desert flies were ruthless and had become our permanent companions since we began hiking in the Negev. Throughout the day, dozens of them would gather on our bags and clothes. ‘Hitchhikers’, I’d started calling them, as they’d find a spot and stay there sometimes for hours as we walked. I didn’t mind them grabbing a lift, as long as they weren’t touching me, but us stopping and settling in for a rest always seemed to be their cue to start bothering us.

‘Arrrggghh,’ I yelled out in frustration, my swatting becoming a bit more frantic.

‘You know that won’t help.’

‘I know,’ I said, now using my hat to try to stun some of them. ‘I. Just. Hate. FLIES.’

I started drying my feet huffily with my shawl then passed it to Gil as he got out. My only salvation on days like this was knowing that at least once the tent was up I could hide in the netting, free from any crawling legs.

Making my way up out of the valley, my leg muscles were still pulsing slightly from their submersion in cold water. Suddenly, a sour stench hit the back of my throat, causing me to gag. Just to the side of the path was the rotting carcass of an animal, only a few bones and tufts of hair remaining. The curved horns undoubtedly from an ibex. Despite the smell, the freshness of the blood seeping into the ground made me think the animal had died recently. My initial thought was that the ibex must have been attacked but there was nothing left in the area, other than humans, that posed a threat. There were once many big cats in the Negev but the last remaining were the Arabian leopards, which had been considered extinct since 2017 due to human activity. My best guess was that this unfortunate ibex had taken a fatal fall and had since provided a feast for the vultures we occasionally saw circling overhead.

Reaching the top of the climb, I looked down and spotted the second oasis of the day, Ein Shaviv. Water from the surrounding cliffs filtered down into the huge basin, creating the perfect environment for plants to thrive. It was like someone had drawn a large shape on the rocky floor and planted it with a hundred trees, all clumped together, a complete contrast from the rest of the stark terrain. The INT snaked down the cliff and across the basin, cutting straight through the trees. Beyond that were more mountains, more canyons, continuing undisturbed until everything faded out on the horizon. The views just kept coming, one after the other, never with an end in sight. A barren desert that felt like it went on forever.

I stopped to catch my breath from the strenuous climb, until a fly flew straight in my ear. I swatted at it, shaking my head, then reluctantly carried on.

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