Dahab

 

 

Our day in Alexandria culminated in a mad dash from the Ramses Train Station to our hostel, grabbing our bags, and hailing a cab to the East Delta Bus Station. We made it before our 11:45PM departure. Of course, this being Egypt, the bus didn’t even arrive until around midnight, and departed around 12:30AM. Now we needed to endure the 9 hour trip ahead of us.

I tried to go to sleep, but around 1:30AM a video was turned on and played. AT FULL VOLUME. Not just any movie, either. In what would become a running joke and possibly a travel theme in Egypt, this was the first of three times I would see this supposed comedy, and it is laughably bad. So bad, in fact, that I plan on giving it away as White Elephant Christmas presents to some of my friends. The name of the movie is El-Lemby. How do I know this? Becuase upon seeing it come on the screen for the THIRD TIME I decided to ask a local Egyptian the name of the movie. This at best B-Movie is first of all in Arabic with no English subtitles, so I have no idea what is being said. But the main actor is ridiculously bad, and the acting is amateur at best. But the worst part? The voice of the main actor is so bad it makes you wonder if he is trying to be subpar in intelligence for laughs. His voice will linger in my mind forever. If I ever hear that voice or movie again I will instantly be transported back to Egypt and my long rides across the desert or on a ferry across the Gulf of Aqaba. Yes, it is that ingrained in my memory.

Not only was the movie bad, not even my earplugs could drown out the noise. It was that loud. I finally strapped on my iPod earphones, cranked the volume up, and tried to sleep as Missy Higgins serenaded me with her sweet Aussie voice. I tied a bandana around my head to block out the light in my eyes and slowly drifted to sleep.

 

 

Sometime later I was awakened to tapping on my soldier. I tore off the bandana, ripped out the earplugs, and before me loomed a security guard. “Passport.” he stated. In my haze I dug out my passport from my pocket and handed it to him. Across the aisle and up one row two Egyptian girls were looking at me. I smiled back sheepishly, knowing how foolish I must have looked with the bandana covering my eyes and my earplugs in. They grinned back.

 

The night wore on as we stopped at three rest stops and encountered at least three more security stops. Most of the security stops were regarding the Egyptians themselves, as we entered Sinai territory and the strife that belonged with it. I was only asked for my passport twice since I was clearly a foreigner. A couple times the guards ushered one or two men outside for questioning. Most of the time a few questions were asked of each Egyptian passenger aboard the bus.

 

Finally we rolled into Dahab at 9:00AM, and all three of us were worn out from a long night. The Egyptian girls who were seated ahead of me helped me out regarding where to go and what to do, and soon four of us were loaded into the back of a pickup truck for the five minute ride from the bus terminal to the center of Dahab. We hopped out, paid our fee, and then made our way to the hostel, Bishbishi Garden Village. This was tranquility indeed. The receptionist was a laid back early twenty-something male who kept repeating “No worries mate”. In fact, the whole town was laid back and tranquil. The three of us got separate rooms. Me, the air coniditioned room I had booked online a few days before, while Gerrit and Alf got a room with a fan. Next we needed some food in us, so the Bishbishi breakfast was ordered up. Banana pancakes, eggs, and toast. Now that is a great breakfast. We then wanted to check out this town on the Gulf of Aqaba so we headed out for a walk. What we walked into was a completely laid back and beautiful town, but it felt like a ghost town. There was absolutely nobody around. It felt strange, like the apocalypse had come and now I was just waiting for the zombies to pop out of restaurants. The main walk consisted of a cement boardwalk with restaurants on one side right next to the ocean and hotels and restaurants on the other side. It was an incredible sight, moreso compared to the crazy chaos of Cairo. It just lacked people to fill the street and restaurants to make it feel alive. However, it was only 10:00 in the morning. Perhaps everybody was still sleeping. This is a beach town, after all.

 

 

 

Later that afternoon we hung out in a restaurant right on the water, with pillows and rugs for seats. It was absolutely relaxing, but a little unnerving since there were only a smattering of people around. The place was absolutely dead. We soon realized this must be the slow season, because there was nobody in this town. Don’t get me wrong, the town was very cool and exuded a great vibe, except there was nobody there to populate it and give it life.

 

Lonely Planet describes Dahab as “a slice of Thailand”. I had booked three nights at Bishbishi and could have easily stayed there. However, Alf and Gerrit were going to Petra the next day. I decided I would go with them. After all, I was heading to Thailand in a little over a week. There was no sense having a slice of Thailand now when I would have the whole pie in about a week. So I canceled my next two days in Dahab and we made plans to head to Nuweiba, Egypt the next day and board the ferry to Aqaba, Jordan.