While driving deep into the desert of Egypt's Sinai Peninsula, we sat three hours in a van, which was part of a convoy, apparently to assist other vans in case of mechanical failures or possible attacks from unknown assailants. There were many checkpoints along the way, guarded by soldiers and policemen. With us were two very nervous U.S. tourists who spoke endlessly of the nearby war that was geographically close but emotionally felt light years away. The other occupants in the van consisted of driver, our own policeman and our highly educated guide whose narrative of the harsh landscape of sand and boulders had the shaped mountains, the home of the nomadic Arabic Bedouin people, making the hours seem like minutes.