Siwa: The Oracle Awakens

By Hollie Luna | Letters from Giza

HOLLIE LUNA · LETTERS FROM GIZA · THE LIVING JOURNAL

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SIWA · THE ORACLE AWAKENS

Hi, I'm Hollie Luna, living and writing in Giza, Egypt, in the shadow of the ancient pyramids.

Welcome to Letters from Egypt, a collection of personal journals, stories and reflections from my life here.

Through these letters, I share the places I've explored, the people I've met, the mysteries I've encountered and the experiences that have shaped my journey.

This is my story, written as I live it. I'm so glad you're here. ✨

Some journeys begin long before we ever set foot on the road.

I had travelled to Egypt searching for something I couldn't quite put into words. A sense of belonging, perhaps. A deeper understanding of myself. Confirmation that the voice I had been following for so many years was one I could truly trust. And somewhere beyond the pyramids of Giza, across the vast silence of the Sahara, lay a place that had been calling to me.

Siwa.

An ancient oasis where people had travelled for thousands of years to seek answers from the Oracle of Amun. A place where kings had come with questions about their destiny, and where I would arrive carrying questions of my own. But I wasn't looking for someone to tell me my future. I wanted to understand the path that had brought me here. To disconnect from the noise of the world, make space for my own thoughts, and listen to the part of myself that I had sometimes struggled to hear.

I had always felt drawn to ancient Egypt, to its gods and goddesses, its symbolism and its sacred places. And now, having finally arrived in the land that had occupied my dreams for so long, I felt an extraordinary pull to travel further. Into the desert. Into the stillness. Into the unknown. I didn't know what I would find at the Temple of the Oracle. I didn't know how deeply the journey would touch me, or how the people, places and experiences along the way would stay with me.

But I knew I wanted to go. And sometimes, trusting that feeling is where the real journey begins.

The Road out of Giza

When we left for Siwa, there was an excitement in my soul that was hard to contain. I had come to Egypt, in many ways, looking for confirmation of the person I was, so to be on the road once more, leaving Giza and heading into the desert, was exhilarating. Only days before, I had landed at Giza Sphinx Airport to be greeted by the pyramids, a world that had lived with me through my dreams long before I ever called it home.

As we drove out of Nazlet El-Samman I wasn't ready to say goodbye, so we stopped at a fuel station overlooking Cheops for coffee, to soak in as much of that activating energy as I could. At that time you could still use the old entrance next to the Marriott, just metres from where I stood, to enter the pyramids. So many people have come to know this place well, and it's one of my favourites now. I've walked there many times from Meka's guest house, sometimes while pregnant, simply in need of a coffee and somewhere to roam without the buzz of the tourist area calling my name.

When it was time to leave, the sun had set and the pyramids were lit up in full display, as if waving goodbye and giving me one last chance to look at them in all their glory. To me it felt like a sign. I've since realised, living here, that they're often illuminated for the Sound and Light Show, music festivals and other events, so it may not have been as unusual as it felt at the time.

I've come to believe that if something feels powerful in the moment, trust it. Nothing can take that feeling away from you. Hindsight so often likes to doubt the everyday magic the spirit intuitively senses.

Into the Sahara

The drive to Siwa is long. Heading out of Giza along the Alexandria Desert Road, the city lights gave way to desert. Rocks and sand stretched for miles, and whether you travelled by day or night, the journey seemed much the same.

We took the shortcut that bypasses Alexandria and were making good time by midnight, blasting some of the all-time greats through the car stereo: Pink Floyd, Steely Dan, the Eagles, Earth, Wind & Fire and, of course, "Ramblin' Man". A proper road trip soundtrack. We reached the coast at Marsa Matruh with time for another pit stop before the final stretch.

That stretch begins with a passport check, which I won't pretend I didn't find perplexing. What was the need for all this security, I wondered? I hadn't fully appreciated that this is one of the main routes through the desert towards Siwa, crossing a remote region close to the Libyan border. You can't police every dune or draw a border across shifting sand, so the military checkpoints along these roads provide an important security presence.

I remember the Moon being particularly bright during that early morning drive. The road was relatively clear, apart from the occasional haulage truck, or what I like to call the travelling caravans of the highway. Covered in lights and painted in beautiful colours, some looked as though they could offer the same living space as an inner-city apartment in New York, Hong Kong or Cairo. They're essential for moving goods in and out of the oasis, including salt, dates and other produce.

Watching the sun rise through the clouds, I could see shapes like hooks reaching towards us as the car travelled further into the desert. The sky was a reminder of just what I had come here for: self-enquiry, disconnecting from the noise and connecting with something much deeper within me. My intuition.

Arriving in Siwa

We arrived in the early morning. The air was crisp and the sky had cleared completely. Everything seemed to awaken as we entered the oasis: first the azan calling people to prayer, then the roosters, and the steady pulse of a place rising with nature.

It took barely any time to reach the centre of the old town, close to the ruins of Shali Castle, where we would be staying. The old houses are built from traditional kershef, a material made from salt, mud and stone, and have been part of this North African oasis for centuries. The techniques were passed down through generations, creating the heart of Siwa as we know it today. The old town rises out of the landscape almost like an enormous anthill, its connected structures looking as though they grew naturally from the earth itself.

Around Shali Castle you'll find shops selling spices, textiles, salt lamps and gifts crafted in an unmistakably Siwan style, alongside a handful of restaurants for visitors. The mood is calm and relaxing. I've visited through hot summers and cool winters, during Ramadan and outside it, and there's a feeling here that never seems to change.

A steady certainty. A silent smile. A pace of life that honours the nomad inside us all and doesn't feel the need to chase the call of action until the moment is right. It's quite the contrast to the non-stop energy of Cairo, a city that never sleeps. I instantly found myself relaxing, breathing deeper and slowing my haste.

Once we had checked in, I went up to the rooftop to admire the view and prepare my crystals for charging under that evening's Full Moon. Then we headed out to explore some of the sacred places hidden in the landscape.

The Mountain of the Dead

The Mountain of the Dead came into view as we moved along the sandy roads through the oasis, past stretches of palm trees and clusters of houses, rising higher above them the closer we got. The ancient tombs are carved into the rocky hillside, a vast necropolis overlooking the oasis. There are hundreds of tombs and burial places scattered across the mountain, each holding something of the lives, beliefs and traditions of the people who once lived here.

The first tomb we visited was Pat Hot.

I remember being impressed by the sheer number of drawings and designs covering the walls. There was so much to look at, so much detail preserved from another time, and I found myself absorbed in it all. I have a photograph of the name displayed outside the tomb, which I want to include here. Then we came to Mesu-Isis.

And something changed. I remember feeling chills, followed by an overwhelming sense of love and connection.

A deep sense of connection to a sister of a thousand names from a thousand years in time!

That's how I remember it. I didn't know this woman, and I couldn't possibly know what her life had been like. She would have lived in a world so different from my own. Yet I felt close to her in a way I hadn't expected. It was almost chilling, but not because I was frightened. It was love.

Love for the woman I felt connected to, and love for myself for trusting the journey across the desert that had brought me there. I'd followed something I couldn't entirely explain, and I was glad I had. For me, Isis was the common thread. I have always felt drawn to Isis, and throughout this journey her presence seemed to follow me in different ways. Standing there at Mesu-Isis, I felt as though I had found a sister across time.

There is something extraordinary about standing in a place where people lived and died thousands of years ago and remembering that they were people, just like us. Women who loved and were loved. Who looked at the same Moon, watched the seasons change and tried to make sense of their lives. We climbed to the very top of the mountain, taking in the whole oasis and looking out as far as the distant sand dunes.

Some people come to places like this to study the archaeology, others to understand the history, and some feel a connection that's much harder to put into words. For me, it was a little of everything.

The Salt Lakes

Our trip to the salt lakes was next. We drove past stretches of water that seemed to continue for miles, the deep blue, crystal-clear water edged with bright white salt. The high salt content makes the water incredibly buoyant, so you're pushed upwards and float on the surface with almost no effort. I was careful not to get any in my eyes, as it burns and stings.

I lay back, surrendered to the water, and let go of whatever was on my mind. Meka had prepared a fire and coffee beside the lakes, so when I climbed out and dried off, I could warm up and settle in beside him. We watched the sun set on one side and the Full Moon rise on the other. Later that evening I made my way to a hot-water pool to wash away the salt and rest my mind beneath some of the most beautiful stars.

The Temple of the Oracle

The following morning was relaxed as we headed towards the Temple of the Oracle, the sun rising over the oasis. The temple has drawn people seeking mystical wisdom for thousands of years. Alexander the Great is famously associated with it, having travelled to consult the oracle of Amun in 331 BC. It's also popularly linked with Cleopatra, although her visit isn't historically confirmed. When I arrived, I could feel the magic all around the ruins.

The January sun was gentle, the air still, and the stones seemed to hold a quiet presence of their own.

The Oracle Temple has a tall structure that you climb, and as you go higher the whole oasis begins to open up around you. I remember looking out across the palms and the landscape, thinking how extraordinary it was that these ruins were still here, rising so delicately out of the land. There are little passages and corners everywhere, almost like a series of mazes. Endless places to hide and seek, or to sit quietly and meditate without anyone really noticing you.

I loved that about it. The feeling that you could wander around and find somewhere completely different, even though you were still within the same ancient walls. I remember walking towards the temple gate and then through it, feeling as though I had been guided here again.

It's difficult to explain what I mean by again.

Meka had quite literally guided me across Egypt. We'd travelled through the night, listened to music, watched the desert change around us and arrived in Siwa at a time in my life when I was trying to understand so much about myself. But there was another feeling too.

Something about walking into that temple felt familiar to me, as though I was returning somewhere rather than arriving for the first time. I don't know how else to describe it. After finding a spot in the temple to meditate, I sank into a deep state of vision and serenity, connecting with a part of myself I had not dared to listen to for a while.

I wasn't suddenly presented with all the answers to the questions I'd brought with me. And I wouldn't want to pretend that I was. But I remember the feeling of being there.

I felt very much myself. The goddess Isis felt ever present throughout my trip, as if she were guiding my every step through layers of emotion, tears, and deep moments of remembrance and surrender. Although the ancient oracle was associated with Amun, my own experience of Isis was something personal.

It had begun long before I entered the temple, and it stayed with me throughout the journey. I kept thinking back to that woman at Mesu-Isis. Her life and mine may have been separated by thousands of years, but something about being in Siwa made that distance feel wonderfully small.

I hadn't expected to find love in a tomb, or such a feeling of familiarity walking through an ancient temple gate. Yet both experiences became part of how I remember this place.

 

Sunset at Fatnas Island

We also visited Fatnas Island, another beautiful part of our time in Siwa. I remember watching the sunset there and simply enjoying the surroundings. There was something about the pace of life in Siwa that made these moments feel especially wonderful.

We weren't rushing from one attraction to the next. We were actually spending time in these places. Watching the light change, enjoying the surroundings and taking everything in.

I was already feeling so relaxed by this point, and I think those quieter moments were as important to the journey as the temples and tombs. There was so much beauty in the landscape, but also in being able to enjoy it without needing anything else to happen. It was another of those memories that has stayed with me.

A Day to Simply Be

The following day was wonderfully relaxed. I found myself drawing all sorts of patterns, sometimes without really thinking about what I was doing. Triangles within triangles.

Colours, shapes and little marks scattered across the pages of my journal. I was simply enjoying myself. There was no great urgency to get anywhere or do anything.

I was happy exploring my thoughts, drawing and allowing myself to enjoy where I was.

I remember singing desert songs with the Bedouin too, and feeling very fortunate to be experiencing Egypt in this way. I think back to those days with a lot of affection. It wasn't only the ancient temples or the extraordinary landscape that made the journey spiritual for me.

It was the people I was with, the freedom to explore what I was feeling, and the fact that I had support while I was discovering a part of Egypt that meant so much to me. I'd travelled so far, and somehow I felt closer to myself than I had in a long time. I still have some of the patterns I drew during that journey.

Looking at them now, I wonder what I was trying to express at the time, or whether I was simply enjoying being creative without needing everything to mean something. Perhaps I'll understand them differently now. But I wouldn't want to lose the feeling I had when I first drew them.

That was part of the beauty of Siwa for me. Being able to experience something without having to explain it straight away.

Into the Dunes

Later, it was time for a different kind of adventure. We headed out into the desert in 4x4 vehicles, travelling off-road across the dunes. And of course, there was sandboarding.

The chance to explore those enormous sandy slopes and then come racing down them was part of the fun. After the excitement of the desert adventure, we settled in to watch the sunset.

The Bedouins cooked dinner for us, and we spent hours out there enjoying the evening. As darkness arrived, we gathered beside the fire and watched the stars. It was amazing.

There was something so serene about being out among the dunes, with nothing demanding our attention and nowhere we needed to rush off to. Adventure and stillness, all in one day. I loved that about Siwa.

And it felt like the perfect way to complete the experience before our long journey back to Cairo.

The Journey Continued...

Even after leaving Siwa, I continued drawing and reflecting. My journal from that January is full of patterns, ankhs, planetary sketches and little thoughts about love, surrender, healing and transformation.

One of the pages contains a drawing of a dove and the words:

The Dove from above surrenders to its powerlessness with grace and humility. Sometimes to fall is to fly.

Another reads:

I allow my heart to expand and receive the divine light of love, compassion, healing, tenderness from heaven above.

There are drawings exploring the ankh, notes about energy, infinity, love and time, and pages filled with colours and symbols. I love having these pages now. Not because I have to interpret every symbol or find a hidden meaning in everything I drew.

But because they're a record of where my thoughts were taking me.

The planetary alignment continued towards the end of the month, and so did my curiosity. I hadn't stopped exploring simply because we'd left the oasis. I had taken that part of the journey home with me.

And when I think about the Oracle Temple now, I don't only remember the history or the ruins. I remember walking through that gate. The feeling of being guided.

The woman in the tomb. The desert songs. The evening among the dunes.

And how happy I was to have found my way there.

What Came After

After this trip, I ended up falling pregnant, marrying Meka, staying in Egypt and making Giza my home. So it was definitely part of the redirection. Up until that point, I wasn't even sure if I could have children, although being a mum was always something I wanted.

Isis knew that, and so did something inside of myself, calling me home.

Come and Listen for Yourself

This is why I created Awaken. On 6 February 2027, the day of the New Moon, we'll be standing at the Temple of the Oracle in Siwa, with Meka as our co-guide. I can't tell you what you'll hear there.

But I know it's a place where it's possible to become quiet enough to hear it. If this story speaks to something in you, you're welcome to explore the journey we've created through Egypt and Siwa.

Explore The Origins journey through Egypt and Siwa →

 

Mystery School Teachings - The School of Light

Lesson One	LESSON 01 · THE ORACLE WITHIN	https://thestarseedsisterhood.co/blogs/the-school-of-light/mystery-school-the-oracle-within
Lesson Two	LESSON 02 · THE ORACLES OF THE ANCIENT WORLD	https://thestarseedsisterhood.co/blogs/the-school-of-light/mystery-school-oracles-of-the-ancient-world