Gersh in Egypt

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April 13, 2000

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<This is from memory as I didn't write much>

Thursday morning, and I find a taxi that will take me to the airport.  Lorra bought me a ticket to Sharm el-Sheikh so that I could save the 12-24 hours it would take by bus and ferry.  Also, nobody could confirm the ferry from Hurghada, so it wasn't worth the risk of not making it to Dahab.

I wait at the airport, and a porter wraps up my clay pots, and puts FRAGILE stickers all over it.  I joke around with the airport guys while I wait for boarding.  II'm at the "local" terminal, and it's small and it only deals with flights within Egypt.  There are flights to Cairo, Sharm and Aswan from here.

The flight is short; it only takes 1/2 hour.  It took longer to taxi then it did for the flight.  The inflight meal was Guava juice and bread.  Where the heck are the peanuts?  I am seated next to a couple of Spanish ladies, and I impress them with my rudimentary knowledge (yeah right!) of the Spanish language.

I move to an empty seat so that I can see some spectacular views of the Red Sea.  It's awesome.  Very blue, very clear.  As we land, I spot some golf courses!!!   Awesome!

At the airport, I'm greeted by a throng of cabbies who want to take me into town.  I ask for a cab to Dahab, and it's LE100.  I laugh.  I share with a couple to the bus station, and wait  (It's around 11 in the morning.)

The bus doesn't leave until 3pm I'm told.  Looks like I have a long wait.  I sit around, smoke, drink 7UP (bottle slipped and crashed on the floor, I felt like a loser in the small bus terminal with all locals looking at the stupid tourist.)

To make my long wait story short -- ran into Arman (divemaster) who showed me how to get to KFC, back at station, chilled with Selene, and Mohamed, and on the bus met Leon (doing THE TRIP) and get to Dahab.  Arman takes Selene and I to his dive place, to get his jeep, and takes us to our hotels.  (This synopsis was over a period of 5 hours or longer).

When I get to the Sphinx (new) I ask for the reservation under Lorra or Bob.  They don't have one.  After arguing that there are reservations, I realize that I might have the wrong hotel (there's an old one also). When I get to that desk, I ask the same question, and they don't seem to understand.  I'm getting very annoyed now!!!  One guy comes up and says that Ms. Lorra left for England, with her daughter.  I lose it.  "What do you mean?  I just talked to her last night!!!"  Obviously they had the wrong Lorra, but I was pissed.  Then it dawns on me, perhaps, because Marcy had arrived earlier, the rooms may be under her name.  They are, and I find out Marcy is in the courtyard.  I go out and find her and she's siting with Andy (Welsh guy working in Qatar).  I tell her my horror story, and order a drink.  Ahhh, Stella!!!

We eat, we drink, and later Mike (from U.of Guelph, working in Qatar) meets us and we exchange "Do you know so and so?" stories.  (Turns out we do).  We wait for Lorra and Bob, we drink, Lorra and Bob arrive, and wow, cool, reunion and we drink.  Everybody crashes, except Lorra, Bob, and I walk into the town, and drink, and eat at a restaurant on the beach.  It's big but pretty empty.  We sit on cushions and rugs, and we drink, and eat, and listen to some Cypress Hill and Ice Cube pumpin through the house speakers.  Wow, B-Boy styles flowing in the Sinai region.  I pop, I lock, I throw down a wicked windmill, followed by a headspin. (JOKE)  We stumble back to the hotel...and crash.