I usually spend February half term in Scotland on a shore-diving, camper-van trip. This year I have no camper van, but I am having a camping shore-diving trip, albeit in a rather different location. In September 2015 I won the grand prize of the British and Irish underwater photography championships, run by BSoUP and generously sponsored by Oonasdivers.
So here I am in Egypt, sat in a tent feet from the shore of the Red Sea. Although Marsa Shagra is South of Marsa Alam (which has an international airport), my flight was from Gatwick to the more northerly Hurghada. The airport is large and modern-looking but was pretty quiet. I did not see any other arrivals from UK; most of the other flights seemed to be from Germany and Russia.
I had gone all through UK security without opening any of my bags, but I had to open both camera boxes for Egyptian security. He asked me various questions about my gear, but did not seem interested in the answers. His parting shot was “don’t get bitten by a shark” and then was amazed when I said I’d be very glad to see one, he insisting that it was bound to eat me.
Following that, I was the sole passenger on a very entertaining four-hour minibus drive south to Marsa Shagra. The roads are very straight, but vehicles appear to completely ignore the road markings. The rules seem complex at first- use main beam when overtaking, but switch off lights if you’re giving way; alternatively flash furiously for either of these situations. Hazard warning lights indicate imminent lane change in any direction, sometimes taking a turning or else coming to a stop. The vehicle horn is used to say “here I am”, “get out of my way”, “hurry up” or just to play a tune.
Speed limits are entirely notional, so physical means are used to control speed- there are vicious speed bumps when passing a hotel or through a settlement; the police check points have chicanes and tyre puncturing devices on hand.
At one point, we drove through a town where a slow speed (speed bumps instead of road markings) game of chicken ensued, with cars darting from one side of the road to the other, three abreast in a narrow street, seemingly without reason. Priority is mostly based on size- don’t mess with a lorry, but a van clearly beats a car. The cars maintained distances of several inches apart and there was liberal use of the horn, but no physical contact was made and it all seemed good natured.
Lots of trucks have very colourful decorations, many celebrating their teutonic origins, though usually badly spelled. Many vehicles have flashing LED lights of many colours and some have lights under the vehicle too. In the other hand, I saw a number of vehicles with no tail lights. I saw an open truck full of camels at a petrol station and a pair of locals sitting in the road by an open locker in their HGV trailer, seemingly cooking a meal. No one seemed in the least bit perturbed by any of this.
So, after this eventful journey, I reached the tent where I write this, 18 hours after leaving home. Sleep now, and then some diving….