In the desert away from Egypt’s crowded cities, the Siwa oasis, known for its olives and dates, has been hurt by the country’s declining tourism trade.
Located just 50 kilometres from war-torn Libya, these days Siwa sees only a fraction of the tourists that once visited it.
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"When I walked through Siwa... I felt safer than in most places near Egyptian cities."
With its stunning landscape made of salt and mud-brick, the Siwa oasis is best known among Egyptians for its mineral water and its production of olives and dates.
Tourists are drawn to its hot springs and salty lakes, sandboarding on its dunes or safari rides that go as far as 420 km to the other oasis of Bahariya.
When I traveled to Siwa for the first time in 1997, donkeys used to be the primary mode of transport and extracting oil from olives was carried out by hand.
In recent years, machines have replaced manual labour in order to produce better oil much faster, and donkeys have been replaced by motorbikes.
Its most unique feature is that its 33,00 strong population were not originally Arab speakers - they mostly spoke a dialect of Berber called Siwi.
Community projects are in place to preserve the dialect and the heritage that have characterised the place for years, for fears that it may be fading.
Nevertheless, the oasis has managed to hold on to its traditional look, which is also its biggest attraction for local and foreign tourists.
These days, however, the situation has changed.
Siwa has been hit hard by a decline in tourism following the 2011 revolution that toppled president Hosni Mubarak, and it has also been affected by the situation in neighbouring Libya.
The road to Siwa is dotted with checkpoints. The vast desert surrounding it and its close proximity to war-torn Libya — just 50 km away — have made Siwa less of a tourist attraction in the last couple of years and more of a spot that worries security forces.
The residents here are struggling to get by. The political turmoil which came after Mubarak's ousting has driven tourists away from Egypt and Siwa, drying up one of its primary sources of revenue.
For a second year in a row, the annual tourism festival was not held here last October.
Yet when I walked through Siwa and its mud-brick buildings, observing traditionally-clothed locals walk at a slow pace, with hardly any cars in sight, I felt safer than in most places near Egyptian cities.
"It's very safe here, we're far from all the troubles," one local told me.