Hurghada

Map

May 13–14, 2010

In Egypt (see the detailed account from 2006), all the planes except Russian charters fly through Cairo, which looks like this from above:

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As I’ve gotten older, I’ve found the courage to admit this to myself: I hate beach vacations. Lying on the sand, sunbathing, swimming with the other fish in the barrel—humanity has yet to invent anything more pointless. And I also hate the sun. It’s hot, it blinds your eyes, you need to buy SPF-90 protection against it. The sun is nice at sunset with steak, wine and a view of the mountains somewhere in Italy or Argentina.

Therefore, the beach aspect of Hurghada will deservedly be omitted from our notes entirely.

Taxi drivers picking up tourists from the airport try very hard to sell them something else besides the fare while they have a chance. The driver I ended up with started by offering me prostitutes. Upon my refusal, he offered male prostitutes. I told him that I was a Catholic priest and asked whether his Muslim faith permits offering such things to guests of his country. It’s all good, the driver assured me. The level of jadedness and cynicism here transcends all bounds.

Hurghada is awful, like all Egyptian resort towns.

It’s a dump everywhere.

Straw fences.

Random goats grazing.

The only people who live here are the hotel staff.

And they don’t care how they live.

If they can do their laundry, they’re happy.

If they have a TV, great. What more could one want?

The houses are slapped together quickly and shoddily.

Then plastered over and sold as resort real estate.

Unbelievably dull.

I’ve always wondered how you can sell meat in forty-degree heat. But somehow it doesn’t rot here. The tree stump used as a butcher block and painted with the national flag colors is wonderful.

The kind of tourists who go to Hurghada are those for whom this painting represents opulence and comfort.

But you can’t hide the overall level.

Every telephone company has its own phone booth on the street.

There are lots of phone booths.

Of different kinds.

And varieties.

There are so many of them and they are so varied that at first I didn’t even notice the post boxes.

In the shade next to the orange juice stand is a “No Parking” sign, which lights up horribly at night.

This is a great example of the Egyptian level of design. A sign that shows how to park your car along the curb. Even the ancient Egyptians had a more advanced understanding of the spatial relationships between objects.

The only intersection with a traffic light. The traffic light is out of order.

There are many Russian signs in the stores.

The sales clerk rocks Robert. We" have everything T-shirts, towels, souvenirs, china, the best prices for you! Gorbushka fiиd everчтhiиg чou иееd Iф чou бuy оveг 295,- L.E. geт 10% дiscouит. [Note: Gorbushka is a popular market in Moscow that sells electronics as well as mostly unlicensed music, films and software.]

The Egyptians try their best.