July 29th, 2007
Dear Diary,
I'm really starting to wonder what's the point of this whole trip, there hasn't been anything worth mentioning.
A routine has kind of settled in the group. Wake up two to three hours before the sun, light breakfast that would fit into a single mouthful for Ron and pack up within twenty minutes, camel riding for hours on end (lunch on camelback is a tricky thing to master, trust me), settle camp, supper, a little sparring with Ben, which Reema and Mione are allowing to become more and more intense, and then sleep, repeat.
To be honest, the strangest thing for me is the silence. Mione and I could apparate out of here at any time, so we're not worried, and Ben and the rest of the caravan seem to know the road by heart, so there's isn't much talking. It leaves me time to think, and as you might already know, thinking isn't really what I prefer to do.
Maybe that's the whole reason they say that the desert can be therapeutic.
Food for more thoughts I suppose.
Harry
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