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| Me at Hurghada Marina |
So, you may recall, I asked my lawyer to drop me off at the Marina. I’d heard it was a great place with lots of good restaurants and cafes and I’d been curious to see it. It was also the place where the expats’ group meets, so I thought I would look around. That way, when I finally went to the expats’ group, I could focus on the people rather than being distracted by my surroundings.
The marina looked beautiful and very new, situated right by the wonderful mosque, which I’d admired when the driver took me past it when I was house hunting. However, it was also desolate. I've since discovered that it's allegedly busier in the evenings, which makes sense, given that there are so many restaurants.
The proprietor of the first café tried to persuade me to drink something; I took a look at the prices and they were cheaper than in Sahl Hasheesh, so I decided to sit down and have something. It had been an eventful day so far and it would be nice to rest.
I then wandered on and a guy standing in another café tried to engage me in conversation. I explained that I’d just had a drink, but he didn’t seem too bothered and I figured he was just bored. We exchanged pleasantries and I prepared my exit, when he asked if I would sign his visitors’ book. I didn’t see the harm in doing this and agreed. Doh! How many times do I fall for this?
It transpired he wasn’t the café owner, but an owner of a perfume shop round the corner. He led the way, unlocked the door and I suddenly found myself alone with this stranger in a small shop in a deserted area. I noticed that he didn’t lock the door behind him, however, which I regarded as a positive sign.
Mirrors lined every wall of the tiny room and numerous glass shelves ran along the whole length of the mirrors and were adorned with various shapes and sizes of ornate, glass perfume jars in an abundance of colours. Mobiles hung from the ceiling and tinkled in the breeze of the air conditioning. The jars reflected back in the mirrors, providing a feast for the eyes. Along each side of the room, deep red, padded sofas with intervals of cushioned armrests hugged the walls. It was enchanting.
The shop owner assured me that he wasn’t here to sell me anything and that he wished to offer me Egyptian hospitality by giving me a cup of hibiscus tea. I hesitated, but being Egyptian, he insisted that this was the Egyptian custom, and so I gave in. I asked for sugar with it and, again as is typical in Egypt, I got a very sweet tea in return, but the taste was superb.
We started off with small talk again, and then a few awkward silences dominated as actually neither of us really had anything to say. It was a bit strange. Eventually, he launched into telling me about his perfumes and what he had in stock – I am still not sure whether this was what it was all leading up to or whether it was the only thing he had left to talk about!
I finished my tea, thanked him, signed his guest book, and then off I went again.
I wandered along taking photographs with my new phone, but to my frustration it kept on taking three pictures at a time instead of just one. I gazed at the screen to see if I could see any clue as to what to do, but I couldn’t figure it out, so gave up, and just deleted two pictures for each picture I took. It wasn’t exactly efficient, but it did the job.
A couple of guys stopped me and asked me to take their photograph for them (with their mobile phone, I add!). I happily obliged and asked them to check it was OK. I think it took them a few seconds to understand what I meant, they took a quick look and seemed happy. They then asked if I wanted them to take a picture of me. I agreed, but on handing over the phone, I was a bit worried about what they’d make of it taking three pictures. But I didn’t let this deter me.
I stood there for the photo, which they took, and then they gestured to each other in a way that suggested something had gone wrong. My heart sank and I explained that I didn’t know how to work the phone, so I couldn’t help them. They were too embroiled with my phone, though, and I’m not even sure they understood what I was saying. I heard them say the word "video". They did a few things with the phone, and then somehow managed to take just one shot. Wow! They did that and it wasn’t even their phone!
They returned the phone to me and said “Check!”, I took a quick look, smiled and thanked them. I’ve chosen this picture for today’s blog because actually it’s a rare one of me that I actually like.
The marina apparently backs onto the main shopping street in Hurghada, an old street that is very Egyptian. However, by this time I was getting tired, as I’d had a bit too much excitement for one day, so I decided to skip visiting that for now. My next challenge was another taxi ride.
I had brought my Hurghada tourist guide with me which gave price indications for taxis to various places and my plan was to go to Spinneys to do some shopping and then go home.
There was a taxi place right at the end of the marina. A guy came up to me and asked me how much I wanted to pay. He went up to the numbered taxi, presumably gave him my price, and came back to me. This was working out surprisingly well!
Unfortunately, the taxi was already booked. He suggested I wait a while. After a few moments, he wandered off and came back, offering me a lift with his friend if I paid a third extra. I looked at him dubiously and at that moment a numbered taxi pulled up.
To my astonishment, the guy asked me if I wanted the numbered taxi or whether I would prefer the more expensive lift with his friend in a private car. I couldn’t quite believe he was seriously giving me the choice of a higher price in an unmarked car which, for all I knew, was completely dodgy or pay a lower price for a fairly guaranteed safe journey in a numbered taxi. I pointed to the numbered taxi and explained I wanted to go with that.
But to give the guy credit, he made no fuss, went up to the numbered taxi, negotiated the price, I got in, and off I went at the price I wanted. Maybe I will get the hang of this one day after all!
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