Yup, Hurghada. If I had a list of 10 places on the planet I wouldn’t go to I would imagine Hurghada is one of them. I get bored at the beach and I hate holiday resorts. Ruben and Natalie are our guests though and they wanted to come here so we’ve let ourselves get talked into it. It’s exactly as I imagined – tourists everywhere, European bars, 5 star hotels.
We signed up for a snorkeling trip and went out on the boat to a few coral reefs out in the Red Sea and spluttered our way through the waves, seeing loads of fish and coughing up salt water on regular occasions. Eventually we got the hang of the snorkels and managed to get more than a few seconds looking at the fish and corals, and M celebrated this new found success by losing her snorkel, breaking a 5 day streak of not losing anything. Congratulations, M! Now back at the Sea Waves, chilling to Bob Marley’s grooves, drinking tea and passing the time until our bus to Cairo at midnight tonight. Hurghada’s been alright but I’ll be quite happy to get onto more Egyptian experiences…
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A few hours later we find ourselves jamming to Jacko the Man in one of the tourist trail restos not far from our hostel. The story begins from us being recommended to try a cheap Egyptian eatery by Hasan the Hotel Manager at “See Views” - this is what me and Rubén have titled it in the end, as the business card of the place promises sea views but we could not find any for love nor money. The hotel is hidden behind a line of buildings which shield it from direct access to the sea, and these buildings are both wider and taller than the hotel itself so it would be quite a surprise if any of the windows in the rooms would give any sea views. We even walked through all the corners of the roof terrace just to be sure and nope – no sea views here. So maybe Hasan should check his typing for the next print of the card set. Back to the story… so we walked along and asked directions from a couple of places to find this cheap eat, and our first advice came from a friendly chap in one of the more established restaurants by the sea strip with purple haze lighting (to suit the relaxing atmosphere I guess). We found the place eventually, only to learn it was cheap indeed but also a take away sandwich shop with no veggie options so we decided to give it a miss for the moment and find something else and maybe return later to grab a bite for the road. After some more wandering around and checking menus for Natalie’s benefit we were back at the purple light district with the friendly chap welcoming us back. We told him about finding the other place but coming back because a sandwich shop just wasn’t what we were looking for and he told us we should have just gone around the corner and we would have found the sitting down side of the place with full menus. Oh well.
So we stayed under purple haze instead and lucky we did! A chilled evening with great pizzas (conventional we know, but sometimes it’s just better to follow the tourist trail when it’s at its best), rounds of local Stella and fresh juices, clouds of shisha, a sad loss for Egypt against Costa Rica in the U-20 but lots of jamming to the King of Pop – may the maestro rest in peace. Our friendly chap Osama turned out to be quite a pro on the dancing front (from what he told us he’s done it for a living earlier but retired for being too old) and set the beat of the evening with his Jacko (and other) moves. He also got Rubén up his chair for a dance battle that eventually earner the latter the most legendary baksheesh of the trip: the guys at the bar presented him with a huge stiff one disguised as a bottle opener. Que fuerte! Sadly he didn’t get to keep the trophy. We taught Osama some Jungle Speed in return, and he got into the game so much that he soon was the most frustrated one of us about getting the patterns wrong and resigned after only a few rounds. Lame attempt, but if you ask me, he should stick to his grooving moves anyway.
Hey Rastaferrari!! Ruben definitely took in some of that Bob Marley influence from Luxor...
Six hours passed in the warm and cozy haze. The A/C on the bus afterwards was definitely set to ‘way too cold’ for our bodies and souls. OK, even an amateur knows that you don’t mount one of these trans-desert freezers wearing only a skirt, sandals and a skin-thin tunika, but the best of us hit blank from time to time. Roughly 25 positions and 5 dead legs later, with sore throats and yet again sleep deprived we arrived to Cairo the next morning. Natalie made the wise choice of getting her sleeping bag out in the night and is the only one of us that had any proper luck with Mr Sandman.
I see Rubén getting off the bus cranky and wearing ¾ length shorts and a T-shirt and absolutely see where his face came from. We just have this thing with him about being hungry, thirsty and sleepy always at the same time. Probably because we seem to also make bad choices at the same time. Great to have a companion like him along the trip really, as after these two Spaniards bugger off, I’m back to T regime of no food and no drink for days if need be (OK OK I know I’ll get niggling from him for this already, so let’s just call it even that I also tend to be the first to start snapping if my blood sugar sinks, i.e. the suffering goes both ways). At least I manage to sleep just about anywhere, as long as I dress properly that is. And he’s the best mossie repellent you’ll get as well so I think I’m still up compared to him on the travel comfort scale. He got bitten on the bus next to me while I was left untouched even if I was the one with open skin available from toes to knees and he was wearing two shirts with long sleeves and a pair of thick combat pants. ‘Sweet’ – said the mossies.In any case, we can’t stand around for too long feeling miserable because we’re called on a mission to find the nearest toilet for T. Yup, he’s gone down on the comfort scale even more.
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