2006 Egypt

6 January 2007, Saturday; BishBishi Camp, Dahab, LE70

Another super day, although in reality we did very little. It was the journey, the getting there, that satisfied.

Due to some confusion regarding the departure / check-in time for the ferry to Sharm El-Sheikh (run by International Fast Ferries @ LE250 each), we were up and out way too early. So window-shopped on our stroll to the ferry harbour. (Saw a sign for Harrad’s and one for Adidos – obvious rip-offs. And a delightful sign that read Rocky for Shoeses.)

There to get in a slow queue for a boarding pass. And then to wait before they opened the gate to the dock. And then to go through a security check. And so on to the ferry – clean and comfortable and … er… fast. The crossing took 90 minutes – covering 52 nautical miles, about 96km. While standing impatiently in the first long queue, a wealthy-looking Egyptian couple was brought to the front of the queue by their driver / guide / whoever. And quite happily stood there until Charl made some comment – at which point they sheepishly joined the back of the queue.

Across a relatively calm blue Red Sea past a desolate island security-manned to Sharm El-Sheikh (pronounced Sheg). The island en route and the Sinai itself is dry, dry, dry. Lots of white boats offshore (approximately 50) – diving boats we assume. We turned down an offer of a drive in a service taxi (minibus) to Dahab at LE40 each thinking that we could find something cheaper in town, and that anyway we wanted to eat something and get a quick look at this popular resort.

So we walked past the beach resorts with their sun beds under straw umbrellas on their narrow stretch of raked beach (yes, here the desert is indeed the beach) into the town. More appealing than we had anticipated. Cleaner and “richer” than most Egyptian towns.

Had lunch and drew money and then discovered it was not as easy to travel the 100km to Dahab as we had anticipated. You can get a taxi with ease, but at LE200. So we decided to settle for the bus and took a taxi (LE20) out to the bus station. Where we found there was only one bus to Dahab at 14h30 – a two-hour wait. We are in travel mode so got our heads around the wait and settled on chairs in the shade and ordered tea (LE3 each). Soon after which we were approached by a service taxi driver who was looking for clients to Dahab at LE50 each. He found us and two young men from Jordan on their way home.

And off we set for the stunning one-hour drive to Dahab. Through fantastic mountains. Now and then a dusty thorn tree on the desert floor, but zero vegetation on the mountains themselves. These rising steeply from the tan sand floor of the desert in blacks and greys, in browns and creams and dusky pinks. The same unstable jagged structure as we saw en route to Hurghada. Sand and stone and rock slides galore. Loose-looking ridges. Clearly delineated reefs in different colours. Now and then a dusty village. Electric pylons marching staunch across the desert floor and over the mountains. Quite, quite beautiful.

Both Charl and I spent much of the journey trying to capture the beauty around us on our digitals (digits?). At one point I was quite pleased to find we were slowing down (from the usual headlong rush) and so aimed my camera out of the open window, focused on the mountains, and clicked. Only to find we were approaching yet another army / police block / post. I did not even realise that I had photographed the post, but after some discussion between the driver and the officer had to show my pic and then delete it (yay, no film to confiscate). What harm they think can come from a fat South African taking a photo of a small block building in the middle of nowhere beats me!

Our driver dropped us outside BishBishi Camp – where we were persuaded with little difficulty to spend the night at LE70 for an en suite twin. Good staff, clean bathrooms, outside seating on carpets and cushions around fireplaces.

They told us there that St Catherine’s was closed tomorrow (Sunday) for Coptic Christmas. So we planned to spend two nights in Dahab (having confirmed this fact elsewhere) instead of one – again with little hesitation.

Because the town is a delight. Love at first sight.

Situated on the curve of a bay on the Gulf of Aqaba With the ridged mountains of Saudi Arabia clearly visible across the blue Red Sea. And the ridged mountains of the Sinai an embrace just behind. With the coral reef just offshore, and the beaches narrow, and the myriad restaurants perched on the water’s edge. With shops for shopping and a long esplanade for strolling. With dive shops galore and desert safaris on offer. With reed umbrellas and innovative store fronts and a laid-back, “no hassle” atmosphere.

We spent what was left of the day strolling and admiring; having a drink at the Funny Mummy and a superb seafood dinner (LE93 total) at Aladdin – owned by Tiger for six months only. The place is relatively quiet. Tiger told us this is peak season and that it is much quieter this year than in years past. Quite sad to see so many restaurants empty. Dahab has considerably more capacity then visitors to fill it. It is predominantly Bedouin owned and run. Hard to believe that in April 2006 three bombs exploded here simultaneously – killing 20 or so (mainly locals) and injuring hundreds.

Aside: In 1996 fundamentalists gunned down 17 Greeks in Cairo. In 1997 they massacred 58 tourists at the temple of Hatshepsut near Luxor.

We spent an hour or so chatting to fellow guests around BishBishi’s fireplace before retiring for the night. An older woman who regularly travels alone to out of the way destinations – like the Gilly Gilly Islands – while her husband uses the excuse of ensuring the pipes don’t freeze back home in Missouri to stay back home in Missouri. A young Brit who loves climbing. Three young Canadians who had just completed some work with hi-tech companies in Tel Aviv as part of their MBA studies – and then got snowed in on their visit to Petra (Jordan).

As I said, another super day.