The charm of Sharm

Flying into Sharm el Sheikh on the Sinai peninsula of Egypt is breathtaking. After 5 hours of fog and cloud over Europe, as you descent towards the airport you are suddenly not far above sharp, dusty mountains jutting out of a desert, which abruptly ends in a turquoise blue sea laden with reefs. Small townships with white Arabian-style housing and hotels, some with green grass even Canturf would envy, contrast against the brown, dusty terrain as you touch down on the runway.

The commentry and gasps courtesty of the greying english package-holiday tourists who come to places like Sharm to boast to their friends how adventerous they are, made landing here all the more surreal.

Haggling with taxi drivers at the airport over a fare for the 12km trip to the city reminded me how out of practice i am. It's been years since i was in a country where the final price of a product or service should be less than half of the initial asking price. After finally agreeing on a price, and because my arm could no longer withstand the 24kg weight that my backpack, I hopped in only to be told about half way that they could not drive to my hotel and i'd have to walk the last hundred meters. The driver wouldn't give me a clear reason but insisted it wasn't possible and it wasn't far to walk. Fine, whatever i said. About 300m into my walk with said backpack, day pack (about 8kg), tripod and roll mat that physically won't fit in my backpack, i wished i'd been firmer with the driver. Some friendly local men offered to carry my pack but i wasn't sure if they could be trusted and i couldn't face the humilitation of admitting to Sean that i couldn't carry my own bags half a kilometer.

Along the one kilometer strip of shops, cafes and restaurants ranging from the golden arches and the hard rock cafe to local kebab stands I was reminded of the friendliness of Arab men. They aren't backward in coming forward. The fake wedding band i bought for five pounds at the Portobello road market last weekend has paid for itself many times over already. That said, I was grateful to have so many people falling over themselves to help me by confirming i was walking in the right direction. A few were simply amazed a woman could carry the amount that i was struggling along with. I was pretty proud of myself too.

Sharm el sheikh is perhaps the strangest city on earth. Think of an Arabian version of the Gold Coast, located on the barrier reef and with a mountainous desert behind it. Multiply the number of ritzy hotels by 10, throw in some relentless young blokes vying for female attention, a lot of overweight english tourists with bad teeth and haneous accents and you just about have it.  

After finding my guest house (of course it was the last one in this bay, on the top of a hill accessible only by about 80 steps - at the least the guard was suitably impressed with my strength when i stumbled in) I walked back to the main strip and quickly accosted by restauranteurs and shop vendors. One guy caught my interest and invited me to take tea in his shop, an act of hospitality common throughout the Arab world but not always extended in tourist areas. While trying not to think of the possibility that knowing i'm travelling alone he might spike my tea, i asked him about the recent protests, local politics and life in Sharm. In turn he quizzed me about Australia and my 'husband', at which point his two cousins, perhaps in their mid 20s, joined in and began lecturing me that i've waited too long to have children and i'm now very old. Hopefully my old knees will make it back up the hill to my guest house tonight. Inshallah.   

 View of Sharm from my hotel

 Reefs right off the beaches

Beach-side cafes at Sharm

 My room - simple but better than a tent

 Nearly all hotels here are white brick, very Arab style

 Hotel pool which looks out across the Red Sea

Steps to the hotel from the main street. Turns out there is another access point on the other side the cab could have taken me to.