The Story Behind “Dahab”
When I left Europe for the first time, headed to Egypt, I was full of anxiety. I had built a mental map made of threats: invisible illnesses, extremism, conflict. While those around me looked forward to the trip with ease, I was paralyzed by fear of the unknown, a loud, internal static that colored my expectations of the world beyond my borders. And yet, in Dahab, I found a world that quietly disproved all my fears. A sky that looked hand-painted each evening, shifting through palettes of ochre and violet that felt almost intentional.
Dogs sleeping soundly at the edge of the beach, without needing to know who I was to feel secure in my presence. People who never rushed, living at a pace that felt like the sea’s own breath. And other travellers, from distant corners of the globe, who had made this pervasive calm their way of life.
I arrived expecting a storm but I returned with less noise inside me, and a different understanding of what it means to feel safe. Some pictures are still waiting too see the light of day, some other will have to stay just with me, reminding me of a precious moment where I was more busy living those days with wonder instead of rushing to use the camera.
