Egypt

So, there we were, laying under a huge umbrella in Sharm el-Shiek, Egypt, a Cancun-type beach resort on the Red Sea popular with Russian tourist, when I came up with the brilliant idea for us to both get desperately needed haircuts. In Baku, Kyle had visited a barber a couple of times and always came back with the same result - a shaved head. This was enough to convince me that my Russian speaking skills were not adequate enough to communicate with an Azeri hair stylist. Five months in Baku and my hair was a stringy mess.

"What could possibly go wrong?" I asked. "The Egyptians speak English. We can tell them what type of haircuts we want." My first sign that something was awry should have been when the lady kept telling me that my hair was "too tall." Needless to say, our haircuts were a long way from perfection. At least mine was doable, but it was Kyle's that was bad news. He thought it resembled a certain North Korean dictator.

(Kyle's new haircut)

My next great brainchild was for us to leave our resort for a little adventure. We signed up for a 4-wheeler/camel ride tour of the desert. It had been explained to us that we would meet up with a group of tourists and ride out into the desert on 4-wheelers. We would all stop and have tea with bedouins and then ride camels back to camp. And as these things seem to always go, actual events somewhat differed.

Arriving at the assembly point, we were given lightweight scarfs to protect our noses, ears and mouths from the relentlessly blowing sand. The guides helped us out by wrapping our heads "Osama Bin Laden" style, as one guy explained to us. As we waited for the tour to begin, the guides asked each couple where they were from. This is the tricky part of any trip outside of Western countries:
1. Assess the situation.
2. Are there any real or imagined threats that might endanger my life?
3. Should I tell them that I am Canadian?
4. If I commit to #3, can I remember to say "Eh" for the rest of the trip? (as in "I'm from Canada, eh.")

As the preceding couples announced that they were from Lithuania, Poland, India and Lebanon, I hedged my bets and decided I could truthfully say the USA. No one cared, except for the rather imposing looking tour guide. We set out on the 4-wheelers into the desert surrounding the Sinai Mountains. It was littered with water bottles and the sand resembled gravel more than a fine powder that I had expected. 30 minutes later, we stopped for a break, the "tea with bedouins" that we had been promised. Turned out that the bedouins were just trying to sell bottled soda and their children were thrusting jewelry into our faces. "You want?" they'd say over and over to each tourist.

(Brooke & Kyle with "Osama Bin Laden" head wraps)


(Kyle on 4-wheeler)

Another half hour on the bikes and we were back at camp. It was time for the big camel ride part of the show. We met up with the camel herd (is that the right word?) and their handlers - a father in traditional bedouin dress and his 5 workers - er children. The camels kneeled as we clamored on top and then each camel was persuaded to stand up by its handler. In Kyle's case, his camel was urged on by a 5 year-old boy without shoes. My guide wasn't much older, probably 9 years old, but at least he had sandals. We walked a straight line 15 minutes out into the desert and then the boys abruptly decided to turn around and we walked the exact same path back. The whole "adventure" reminded me of those pony rides at carnivals, where the animals are tethered to a carousel and they just walk endlessly in a circle. Not exactly a thrilling time. I spent the whole ride fretting about the child labor exploitation.

(Camel herd)


(Kyle's young camel guide)


(Brooke & Lithuanian couple on camels)

So, later, back on the beach, I decided that I would not propose anymore suggestions. The beach was daring enough for me. A pina colada and a bit of sunblock - I was set. I loved this Egypt.

(Pool area at Savoy Resort)


(Sharm el-Sheik, Egypt)