With nearly a week to enjoy the Iberotel Coraya Resort in Marsa Alam, Bodra and I made excellent use of our time. We had a rewarding week of diving, exploring and whiling away the hours in the warm, breezy bright outdoors, reading our books and snoozing in the shade. We achieved four things which we are very proud of- our PADI Open Water Recreational Diver License and spending time with Dennis the Dugong, satisfied bellies and no sun-burn! Woo-hoo!!
Something worth mentioning- during our shuttle to and from Emperor Divers, as the driver stopped at the various resorts, every entrance had barriers where a man would meet the driver, checking his licence and then walking around the vehicle with some sort of detector. There were always measures like this in Egypt, whether we were going through the airports or into the hotels. Bags and bodies were scanned, sometimes at least four times as we made our way to the boarding gate. They’re definitely aware of the terrorist threat to tourists and Bodra and I always felt well protected.
During the first two days in Marsa Alam, we completed our open water dives and skills under the patient tutelage of Sarah from Emperor Divers. Luckily we mostly had her to ourselves, with an older fellar named Mike joining us on the first dive for his beginner try-dive. We went over the basic skills of clearing our masks underwater, CESA (controlled emergency safety ascent) and various buoyancy exercises. I’m still experiencing a little difficulty with buoyancy, as Bodra initially held my hand during our dives which weighted me down, so upon release I was surprised to find I would rise quite suddenly. I’m feeling much more confident now and on our last dive I rarely held Bodra’s hand, only to communicate excitement and happiness.
Once the skills for each session were complete we followed Sarah through the coral, exploring the different formations and pointing out the cute aquatic life as we spotted them. It’s a shame we didn’t have a camera as it truly is so beautiful down there. Brain and salad coral, lavender tipped madrepore branches of the Acropora and larger white formations like finely manicured bonsai trees (I believe coral is dead when it is white- some sort of bleaching process), calyx sponge similar in appearance to wide, orange-rusted tin pipes… and the fish! Teeny, bright orange Anthias, all pointed in the same direction, flaunting their hovering skills, blue spotted sting-ray hiding in the sea-bed, crocodile-fish camouflaged lying on the sandy bottom, lion-fish with its array of deadly plumes, the elongated body of the pipe-fish, goat-fish with beard-like protuberances digging away at the sea-bed, brightly coloured angel and butterfly-fish, Nemo (anemone-fish), surgeon-fish… and plenty more which at this stage I am unable to identify.
We were quite dehydrated and feeling a bit fragile after the dives, so we postponed our Saturday dive and spent the morning relaxing at the resort. In the afternoon we went on a super safari by jeep into the desert to visit a Bedouin camp. The draw to this arid environment was the promise of a ride on a camel and quad-bike- both very pleasing experiences.
So we were picked up from the resort by a jeep and gathered near the highway, awaiting other groups to join us, before setting off for the desert. Three jeeps crammed with tourists (about eight in the back of each jeep) bouncing across the rocky landscape. The front jeep had a camera-man mounted on the roof, with just his feet wedged under the roof-frame to keep him attached to the jeep. We whipped across the desert up steep inclines, stopping at a few locations to first take in the hilly environment, then to stand in the shadow of an Acacia tree, one of the few expressions of life here. Apparently they have an immensely long taper root allowing them to sustain their life in the desert.
We left our bags at the Bedouin camp and after suffering a sickeningly sweet cup of tea we proceeded to the afternoon’s activities. I noticed in the middle of the camp there was a solid-looking tripod covered with a rug- naturally I assumed this was some kind of missile launcher or bazooka. How else would you pass the time in the desert, besides blowing up the hills around you?
The ATV’s were very simple to operate, brakes on either handle for the front and back wheels, much like a bike, and to accelerate we pressed on the throttle lever with our thumb. I thought it was really amusing how they plonked us on the bike and basically said “Go!” despite the many labels on the bike warning us not to operate without consulting the user-guide first. We were given helmets and head scarves to wear ninja-styles to protect us from the dust and then convoyed across the desert. One of the riders bounced off her quad-bike and sprained her wrist, but there were no major injuries. We didn’t have much of an opportunity to go crazy, but I can definitely now appreciate the desire for a ride-on motor-mower.
The camels were quite weather-worn looking but were un-troubling and patient as we clambered onto them and chattered and giggled during the ride. We were led by a Bedouin across the desert for about fifteen minutes, just long enough to remain in a state of allure by the experience. I noticed that camels have a unique way of walking, moving both their left legs, then both their right legs, which explains the jolting-nature of the journey.
Then we visited a water-well, the kitchen tent where we watched the women roll out flat bread onto a hot plate, their goat pen where a rambunctious puppy joined our group, and then up to a small hill to watch the sun set. We had a cloudless sky so the sun merely nestled down without much of a fanfare. Then back to the camp for dinner and entertainment, which consisted of the male Bedouins sharing a song and thrusting a sword into the air (eepp!), a man appearing on a horse and getting it to ‘dance’ for far too long to blaring music, a gelatinous belly-dancer bursting out of her costume, a whirling dervish and then the camp lights went out…
Above us the sky exploded into zillions of diamonds, with no full-moon to dilute the view. We quickly spotted Orion’s belt. Then the rug was removed from the tripod, revealing a telescope- ah-hah!!! We peered at Saturn, distinctive with its ring, and then Sirius twinkling brightly- definitely a spectacular way to appreciate what a Bedouin lifestyle beholds.
The next day we learnt from a fellow diver that we had been fortunate to postpone our dive trip as Saturday’s diving had been quite bleak. Steve, one of our coach companions, had gone out to Abu Dabbab to visit Dennis, only to find sea turtles and grass. In our eyes this definitely boded well for our trip there on Monday. On Sunday we went for a snorkel around the coral reef of Coraya. The formations weren’t as impressive as our dive trips had been, but it was still fun visiting the underwater realm. We spent most of the day lying on beach-loungers, reading and snoozing.
On Monday morning we journeyed to Abu Dabbab. Our first guided dive now that we were qualified and, happily, this ended up being a shore dive. No bobbing about in a boat becoming more and more inflicted with a hazy sense of gravity! But this did mean trekking across to our entry point with all the gear weighing us down, and in a full wet-suit beneath the relentless sun- not exactly an easy task. We followed our guide along the coral reef which gradually led us into deeper water. With loads to look at and gush over, the ‘okay’ signal was employed with as much enthusiasm as one can muster in a floating environment.
We swam across the sea-grass on our return which wasn’t as exciting. The sea grass wasn’t in thick clumps so I was feeling doubtful that a Dugong would bother with this area. I became increasingly frustrated with my cylinder and the first stage of my regulator, as everything was positioned so that if I tried to look up I would knock my head on the back of the first stage- I remained tender there for a few days afterwards. As there wasn’t much to distract me from my discomfort and our guide seemed to get further away from us, I signalled to Bodra to ascend as I felt panicked. We did this calmly and as we were quite close to the shore we made that our final ascend and snorkelled back.
We had a long surface interval, enjoying lunch and then relaxing in the shade on the beach. The resort was quite full of Italian and German tourists so we suffered their poor taste in dance music until someone had the decency to play some Bob Marley- certainly more conducive to creating relaxation. I read about the Dugong and reluctantly resolved that we probably wouldn’t see one today, but Bodra maintained his sense of optimism.
For our second dive we all spread out in a line across the sea grass to ensure the best coverage of the area. Shortly after entry and descent we heard a pinging sound which indicated that someone had spotted something of interest. We made our way across to a small cluster of divers and found a green turtle. I thought it had a baby turtle on its’ shell but on closer inspection I realised it was some kind of sucker shark, scabbing a ride. We fondly appraised the turtle and I felt a real sense of contentment- even if it wasn’t a Dugong, this was a really special experience and I knew how privileged I was to be here. Green turtles are endangered- apparently they are a delicacy to some people as they are herbivores and don’t eat poisonous coral like Hawksbill turtles. The turtle didn’t seem to mind its’ sudden entourage and carried on with the business of nibbling sea grass.
Within a moment our group moved on to the next attraction in the distance, where many other snorkelers and divers were converging. There was Dennis, with five or six sucker-sharks attached to his body and one lone yellow pilot-fish at his nose, in prime position to catch any tasty sea creatures which Dennis stirred up in his nibbling. Dozens of divers formed a respectably-sized ring around him and we all watched him in amazement. Every so often he would effortlessly soar up to the surface for a breather and as he would do so, the sucker sharks would come loose then begin to fight amongst themselves for a position on Dennis. I viewed Dennis from all different angles and was deeply impressed by his mass and nature. A couple times we’d go and check-out the turtles as they came into the scene, but always to return back to Dennis.
That day was such a buzz and a wonderful unifying experience to share with other divers. Bodra and I had got everything we had desired out of our trip; everything else has been a bonus. Our last day of diving ended up being cancelled due to rough waters but this didn’t bother us one bit. WE SAW A DUGONG!! Yay for gratification!
On Tuesday, after spending the morning waiting around at Emperor Divers for a not forth-coming green flag, we returned to the resort for lunch and then a nap. We’ve been waking at 6:30am most mornings (that’s 4:30am in the UK), so these naps have been vital. Not to forget that diving is mentally very draining and being on a constantly rocking boat leaves a strong imprint on my sense of gravity. In the evening we went for a wander around the resorts coast, basically the desert with the ocean at its edge, and we watched the amber sun dip below the hills. Back to the bar for a few cocktails (Singapore Slingers are delicious!) and after dinner we passed on the evening’s entertainment (a keyboardist singing Lionel Ritchie tunes- exactly whose cup-of-tea is that?) for more snoozing. Wednesday was more of the same, relaxing outside in the warm shade until our flight to Cairo, which departed at 11:15pm.
We safely arrived in Cairo and our complimentary driver soon had our luggage and was leading us to his shuttle van. Our journey to the hotel was via motorways- Cairo seemed like it was just one massive sprawling city covered with motorways. These motorways have lanes but no one was using them. The drivers employed horns to indicate their intent for the driver they were tail-gating to get out of the way- but it wasn’t an agro situation as everyone was doing it.
After checking in to Le Méridien Heliopolis, we wearily made our way to our room- yay for a king size bed! Unfortunately, even though we were on the seventh floor, and it was well past one in the morning, we could still hear the beeping of horns throughout the night. I believe traffic is always busy in Cairo.
(Near our hotel was a really unusual piece of architecture, the Baron Empain Hindu Palace. It looked like a temple from Thailand or India. It didn’t appear to be open to the public, and from my research I see it is being restored. This was a palace built over a century ago by an eccentric Belgian industrialist, the Baron-General Edouard-Louis-Joseph Emapain (1852-1929). He was employed by Egypt to engineer the local area, Heliopolis. Apparently there are mysteries surrounding the palace, and I found it really strange that the area was deserted. The palace has resident bats, so the building had suffered neglect. Bodra’s work colleague, Omar, told us how when he was a kid, he and his friends snuck in through a window. As they were exploring, they suddenly heard a horrific screaming- so naturally they all ran from the building, scared out of their wits. Unusual!)
We enjoyed a late breakfast- not quite the exotic buffet we had become accustomed to by Marsa Alams’ standards, but cornflakes and tea were received gratefully. Then the concierge organised a driver to take us to the Egyptian Museum. A real dunger of a car pulled up at the hotel- the kind of car you might have when you’re a teenager- comprehensive dents in the body, rusted out, missing door handles and side mirrors, bumper hanging off the end of the car… eekk!! But the concierge assured us we would be fine and the driver was very obliging. He wore a long sleeve shirt and a thick woollen jumper and here we were in t-shirts and shorts!
The drive to the museum was tense yet amusing- most of the time we were bumper to bumper, with cars swerving and beeping all over the show. I felt like I was part of a school of fish, manic to get to the next meal. But we got there in one piece, there being a massive parking lot in the middle of a ring road. It was jam packed- a casually dressed parking attendant pushed a car along to find us a spot. We parked alongside these large military trucks, with wire across the small windows. Faces of men smiled at us from the windows, showing scruffy stubbly skin and yellowing teeth. Was I looking at captives or police on their lunch break? All around the car park were police carrying shot guns and rifles- very intimidating.
Unsure of where we were going, our driver- who spoke very little English- ushered us over to an underground walkway and pointed the way. Nervously we entered the dank, urine reeking passage, alert to the foreboding strangers around us. Tourists really stick out in Cairo, and you can almost feel this hunger towards you. We saw a sign pointing the way and were soon out in the open, walking with crowds of people towards the red building of the Cairo Museum. Police were stationed every few metres around the area, looking very grim with their heavy uniforms and shotguns.
The Museum beheld countless artefacts from Ancient Egypt, Old, Middle and Modern Kingdom and the Graeco-Roman Period with some statues from 3000 years ago. We were quite overwhelmed by how much there was to look at, but in all honesty we soon tired of the experience, one piece of Tutankhamen jewellery/sarcophagi/statue/funerary art just looks like another. It would’ve been helpful to have the aid of a guide, but there didn’t appear to be any official looking guides available- just a random guy who approached us after we purchased our tickets, and we had no confidence that he was legitimate. A smattering of displays were accompanied with brief paragraphs, so Bodra and I satisfied our curiosity by deciphering the faded type-written words and made appropriate noises of comprehension to each other.
I was particularly interested in the display of Ushabti, funerary figurines called Answerers, as these figures would apparently answer for the deceased person, performing their chores. One King apparently had 365 Ushabtis to represent servants who would perform chores for every day of the year, and then a further collection of overseeing Ushabtis, to keep the servant figurines in line. I wondered, is this why we collect stuffed teddies or ornamental figurines?
The Egyptian Museum also shared with me Taweret, the Egyptian Goddess of maternity and childbirth. She is quite an unusual looking Goddess with the face of a Hippopotamus, the paws of a Lion and the back of a Crocodile. Definitely a fearsome combination!
One of the rooms upstairs showed mummified animals, where I was most impressed by the length of a Nile crocodile… much longer than I ever imagined. We were unable to see the Royal Mummy’s, as apparently the room was being renovated, and when we tried to inquire the ticketing person was not forthcoming with any helpful advice (perhaps she didn’t speak English).
Spending over two hours wandering around the museum had us feeling quite fatigued and hungry, so we decided we’d go hunting for lunch. Away from the museum, we boldly tackled Cairo streets, but soon we were accosted by an Egyptian man with yellow teeth, professing his desire to make a good impression on us for the benefit of his country. Damn us for being friendly, non-rude types! He had us following him as he talked of a square just across the highway where we could find food, and talked about his gallery which he had just opened today, and his sister was getting married tomorrow and he had spent 20,000 Euros on his sisters’ dress… I should’ve said “Hey buddy! You’re a fool to waste such money!” but instead we oohhhed and ahhhed politely. Then we found ourselves being ushered into his ‘gallery’ which was just a standard shop selling papyrus artwork. Bodra and I were conscious that we only had a short time to find food, and when the man and his father started urging us to drink their tea, the hair was starting to prickle. There was just something uneasy about the situation we were finding ourselves in. Nothing bad happened, and it became a place for us to learn the stern approach and assert ourselves, but it definitely did not leave a good impression. As we left the shop we saw the original man chatting to a few heavy looking men… who will know what was in the tea…
Lunch was then abandoned as being victimised as a tourist hardly encourages hunger; we just wanted to be safe; so we hot-footed it to our driver, who was waiting patiently exactly where we had left him. Back at the hotel we made the pleasurable discovery of finding a Thai restaurant on the ground floor. I’m ashamed to say we ate there three times, but in our defence the only other options were Italian, and we all know how we feel about Italian.
Bodra’s work colleague, Omar, offered to take us out in the evening to enjoy some Arabic music, but as he didn’t want to go out until 11pm, we declined. We had made plans to go out to the Pyramids- the sole survivor of the Seven Ancient Wonders of the World, the following morning, arranging with our taxi driver to pick us up again at 8am, so we wanted an earlier night.
The journey to Giza was somewhat harrowing, as the car seemed to only be running on one cylinder and kept cutting out as we struggled along the highway. Men were out on the side of the highway, sweeping debris. They were completely casual about their operation, not at all concerned by the speeding vehicles merely centimetres away from them.
We passed some highly manky dwellings, with rubbish piled high making stinky barriers around the houses. As the taxi didn’t have air conditioning, just the drivers and passengers windows rolled right down, we inhaled dangerous toxic levels of the stench. Did I mention that Egypt has a high percentage of chain-smokers? Smoking is tolerated in all public spaces… so eighties!
Our driver dropped us off in yet another unclear place, we couldn’t see the Pyramids when we got out of the car, and as he had taken a few side streets our bearings were quite muddled. A man came up to our window and tried to bargain a Camel ride out of us, but we fervently declined. Outside were dozens of camels and horses, as well as their poo and naturally, the stench that goes with it. I clutched my tummy as we cautiously made our way up the street in the direction our driver had pointed. A few more men tried to get camel rides out of us, but I had worked out a baffling response- “I’m allergic to horses and camels!”
It turned out we were being directed towards the civilian entry point for the pyramids, and the guards told us to move ahead of the already formed queue. Moments like these make you feel like a celebrity! They scanned our bags and bodies and soon we were released into the Giza desert. I have to admit, I was a bit disappointed when I saw the Sphinx, as it’s not as massive as TV-land makes it out to be, but it’s definitely big enough to be considered the guardian for the pyramids. The Great Pyramid of Khufu was quite satisfying. You aren’t allowed to climb the pyramid, but we bought tickets to go inside Khufu- we were told by the concierge that they only allow 150 people into Khufu each day, which is why we headed to the pyramids in the early morning. From what we could tell there was no restriction, which goes with the money, money, money mentality of Cairo. There was a sign at the tourist ticket office, but perhaps this is a ploy to convey urgency for tourists to get this extra ticket.
The passage way was quite narrow, steep and dark. Bodra sweated it reaching the top, which wasn’t such a joyful experience, especially as we had to duck through a low ceilinged passage which reeked of urine. We reached the King’s Chamber, an empty room approximately 5m wide and 10m long. The only item in the room was a massive Sarcophagus, which couldn’t have possibly fitted through the entrance. Bodra caught his breath and cooled down a bit, while I tried to relax in the space, despite the constant influx of chatty, excited tourists. I just felt that I needed to at least try to meditate here, as we sometimes visualise visiting pyramids during shavasana in our yoga class. A trio of ladies came in and formed a standing circle and chanted a few aums, which made a lovely resonance within the space.
After Khufu, we wandered towards the Pyramid of Khafre. The wind began to pick up here but this didn’t put off the multiple men coming up to us and harassing us for photos, camel rides, sales of postcards and head scarves. By the time we started heading for the Pyramid of Menkaure, the wind was violently whipping up the dust and sharp grains of the desert. Plastic bags and papers were whirling in the air; the sky was splotched with the debris. As we were both in t-shirts and shorts and didn’t have sunglasses, we decided to call it a day and headed back to our driver. Masses of people were still streaming into the grounds as we were leaving, the majority appearing to be Egyptians which was surprising.
On our way back to Cairo I took quite a few videos of the journey along the highway. Bodra spotted a dead horse on the side of the road just a couple kilometres from the pyramids. It had been there on our journey in to Giza and was still there a few hours later. I was mostly focused on the unfortunate homes Egyptians must live in, built so close to the highway, with tiny windows, and all adorned with satellite dishes on the roofs!
Later in the evening, Omar picked us up and took us to the Nile for dinner. We found fajitas at a Chilli’s restaurant (a burger joint) which was quite satisfying. We sat with a view of the Nile and watched feluccas with neon decorations make their way up and down the river. No crocodiles, just cheesy boats. Then Omar took us to a club- the After Eight Night Pub and Restaurant, in downtown Cairo. We followed Omar down an obscure side alley and soon found ourselves in a packed club- where they had Heineken! (Yay! A break from the Egyptian brews of Sakara and Stella!) There were quite a few foreigners in the club; I even saw a white girl with dread-locks, and quite a few Egyptian women. The entertainers for the night were an Arabic band, Salalem, and DJ Offbeat. They performed in a tiny little space in the wall, I think for Salalem there were eight band members squeezed into the space. We found Salalem to be really entertaining. Loads of acoustic guitars and multiple vocalists will always be a winning combination for my ears.
After their second set, Bodra and I called it a night, as our eyes burning so much from the incessant smoke in the club. When we got back to our room we quickly got out of our pongy clothes and showered- it’s so scary how much the smoke really gets deep into everything- I bagged my clothes separately from my other clothes as I didn’t want the stink to infect the rest of my clothes.
We didn’t make any plans to see anything on our last day- we had to be at the airport for 3:30pm and all that we had left was maybe a trip to a bazaar. However, I didn’t enjoy my bazaar experience in Istanbul, and we don’t really have that much money to spend anyway, so we contented ourselves with playing Mah-jong in the lobby. Initially Bodra and I didn’t get seats together when we checked in, but when we reached our boarding gate new passes were presented to us. We went from seats in rows 21 & 22 to seats in row 7- Business Class!!! Finally Bodra was given all the leg room he could desire. I could sit cross-legged in my seat! We were served a delicious salad, with our own teeny balsamic vinegar bottle, brown rolls, then a main and dessert, with all the drink we needed. There were a couple of issues with our personal screens and headsets, but these were resolved fairly painlessly. Travelling in business class definitely makes a huge difference.
Today I have been out to Reading centre to watch the reading Half Marathon, as my friend Ela was partaking. I wore a bright pink scarf to stand out for her in the crowds but sadly we did not see each other- there were hundreds of runners, most in the standard running attire but some were costumed- fairies, superheroes, Rocky Balboa, soldiers with full back packs, Scooby… Bodra and I have decided when we get home we will do the Round the Bays dressed as Roadrunner and Wile E. Coyote!
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