Hurghada - First Day Back

Hurghada - Goats Running Amok

For once, I slept pretty well on my sofa in the lounge with the air conditioning on. I guess I was tired after the travelling. However, I was shocked at how hot it was. I’m not sure if this was just a symptom of “first day back” or whether it really was particularly hot that day; subsequent days felt pleasanter.

I had a busy schedule for my first day as I needed to pick up documentation from my lawyer that confirmed my right to ownership of the flat and then I needed to do some food shopping. I’d made the lawyer’s appointment before I left, thinking it would be good to get everything done as soon as I got back, but in reality I wished for a day of peace before getting into anything too complicated. Live and learn

In addition, Esmat hadn’t picked me up from the airport because his brother-in-law had been in a car accident, so I felt a bit bad asking him to take me the following morning. Moreover, it wasn’t easy to contact him because I didn’t have a mobile phone (I can feel another mobile phone rant coming in a subsequent blog) and my internet connection to ask Esmat for the taxi via facebook was very slow. Again, I wasn’t sure if this slow connection was just for that particular day or whether it’s always that slow. At the moment I have a conspiracy theory in my head that they’ve slowed down the internet here to try to sell you the upgrade to the faster speed, which they seem to be plugging at the moment.

Anyway, I digress. As you can see, things aren’t always easy to do over here. Or maybe it’s just me. Another complication, which wasn’t really a complication, was that my lawyer wasn’t in town so I was going to see someone called “Sharon” instead. The English in the emails was perfect, so I assumed that he’d hired a British assistant. It wasn’t really a problem.

Esmat’s uncle, who’d picked me up from the airport, arrived on time. As we drove along, I recalled the first time I went to see my lawyer, expecting some kind of fancy financial district. This time, I knew the street it was in (or thought I did, but I was confusing Sheraton Street [sometimes called Road] with Sherry Street, I think; the directions were Sheraton Street and I was expecting Sherry Street but it turned out to be Sheraton Road. Am I the only person who finds this confusing?).

What I hadn’t realised was that the term “Wahib Building” wasn’t the name of the building but was a way of saying “the block of flats above the Wahib shop”. As I’ve said before, you don’t really have proper addresses in Egypt. There are two Wahib shops on Sheraton Road, which is a bit confusing, but fortunately only one had five floors above it, so we managed to fathom it out. Well, I say “we”, but I really mean Esmat’s uncle managed to fathom it out.

I felt quite brave going into the cranky lift on my own (last time the lawyer was with me) as the street outside was just sand and I wasn’t too sure how reliable the lift was. I was also unreasonably proud of myself for managing to find the correct flat once I arrived on the fifth floor. To my surprise, when I rang, an Egyptian guy opened the door to welcome me. I felt quite perplexed. In my head I was meeting a British woman called Sharon but maybe the “Sharon” was a surname, like Ariel Sharon?

An older European-looking guy was there as well, who was either a client or there as a male back-up to ensure nothing untoward went on between me and the other guy (Safi says that often you will have two men with a woman for that reason, to demonstrate that everything was above board) but it was definitely the right place and the Egyptian man handed me the contract, got me to sign confirmation that I’d received it, and checked my passport. He informed me that Sharon would be emailing me sometime soon about other matters, so I was back to hypothesising that Sharon was British and female.

I’d asked Esmat’s uncle to wait. He’d looked a bit sceptical (as was I, to be honest) when I said I would be only 10 minutes, but actually that’s all it took. He dropped me off at Senzo Mall. I popped in for a KFC, but they had a power cut just as I ordered. It seemed that I was being granted the full Egyptian experience on my return.

As so often happens, the conversation at KFC went: “Do you want spicy or normal chicken?”; me: “Normal”. They nod and say normal; I nod my head to confirm. They turn to get the chicken, turn round and say “You wanted spicy chicken?” “No,” I say, “normal”. I’m not quite sure what’s going on there as they don’t seem to be wanting to plug the spicy chicken particularly, which is the only reason I can think for this bizarre dialogue. The Egyptians usually have amazing memories. Maybe it’s a joke? In which case, I need to get more culturally aligned!

I’d lost my bearings a bit in Senzo Mall and it took me a few minutes before I could find my way to Spinneys. I was surprised to see that they had no cans of diet coke or diet pepsi; I’d forgotten that you can’t always get what you want on the day you want.

Esmat picked me up once I’d finished and we caught up on our news on the way back. His brother-in-law was OK, but there’d been another accident at the same spot that morning as well – it’s sand by the road that looks as if it’s OK, but actually slides right down a steep bank. I read that a bus overturned the other day too near Senzo mall – not sure if it’s the same spot again, but if so, they need to do something about it.

Anyway, that was my first day back. It was like having the whole Egyptian experience squashed into one day. No gentle homecoming for me!