Mother of the World: part 5
Well, Dave Heywood... if that is your real name. this site is a family blogsite so ofcourse nothing of what your seedy little brain might imagine is at all possible.
So feeling a little under the weather we boarded the cruiser and set off at the blistering pace of about 2 knots/hour. The water looked beautiful but how could we breathe underwater if i couldnt even breathe properly up here!? then our guide started explaining the precautions and all the little contraptions, and we got a little more aprehensive. 'dont touch this', 'if you panic do this' (yea right, if i panic i wont be doing that), 'your lungs might explode if you do this', etc... but in the end there was no way any Moustafa was ever gonna back down. imagine the furor back on the mainland.
but when i finally got underwater everything was perfect. breathing was fine, the peacefulness of this new world made me feel so calm. i was isolated but surrounded by beauty. the little fishes went about their business with only the occasional weary glance. the only catch in this amazing underwater world was the fact that being our first ever experience we had to be led around like little babies. if by some chance my little feet got my flippers in a twist and i drifted off, i would get a reasurring tug back as the guide placed my fingies around his forearm and placed his other hand firmly over it so it wouldnt slip away again. a silent thumbs up and what i thought may have been a mothers smile beneath that face mask of his and i regressed even further. but maybe it was meant to be. The innocence of the environment, the helplessness of the human swimming within its fold, with only a miniature lifeline between material comfort and the next life. perhaps feeling so vulnerable was more natural than any other feeling. anyway, bob enjoyed it too.
the next day we left sharm and arrived in Dahab. Juxtaposed to the glistening, discoteque sharm dahab exhibited a warmer bob marleyesque atmosphere, and muuch cheaper too. with cute, cushioned cafes lining the caost, you could sit there, enjoy a shisha and a meal and wave at the Saudi's 14kms away over the gulf of Aqaba.
OUr first night there we headed out to St Katherines Monastery at 11pm. 1.5 hours drive then a steep ascent up the 2km high side of Mt Sinai. 7kms in all, but Bob will tell you it was a lot more. For him, all his hard hours at the gym proved little help for our floundering friend. half way up and both his t-shiirts under his jacket were dripping with sweat. 3/4 of the way up and 70 year old women on parambulators (those metal things they use to keep upright and plod along - but really, i dont know if it is even a word) were stepping over his almost lifeless body and up to the summit. finally at the top and he duped blankets off even older women because he was feeling 'hyperthermic' from his now cooled, saturated t-shirts. Ihab of Arabia my bum.
So feeling a little under the weather we boarded the cruiser and set off at the blistering pace of about 2 knots/hour. The water looked beautiful but how could we breathe underwater if i couldnt even breathe properly up here!? then our guide started explaining the precautions and all the little contraptions, and we got a little more aprehensive. 'dont touch this', 'if you panic do this' (yea right, if i panic i wont be doing that), 'your lungs might explode if you do this', etc... but in the end there was no way any Moustafa was ever gonna back down. imagine the furor back on the mainland.
but when i finally got underwater everything was perfect. breathing was fine, the peacefulness of this new world made me feel so calm. i was isolated but surrounded by beauty. the little fishes went about their business with only the occasional weary glance. the only catch in this amazing underwater world was the fact that being our first ever experience we had to be led around like little babies. if by some chance my little feet got my flippers in a twist and i drifted off, i would get a reasurring tug back as the guide placed my fingies around his forearm and placed his other hand firmly over it so it wouldnt slip away again. a silent thumbs up and what i thought may have been a mothers smile beneath that face mask of his and i regressed even further. but maybe it was meant to be. The innocence of the environment, the helplessness of the human swimming within its fold, with only a miniature lifeline between material comfort and the next life. perhaps feeling so vulnerable was more natural than any other feeling. anyway, bob enjoyed it too.
the next day we left sharm and arrived in Dahab. Juxtaposed to the glistening, discoteque sharm dahab exhibited a warmer bob marleyesque atmosphere, and muuch cheaper too. with cute, cushioned cafes lining the caost, you could sit there, enjoy a shisha and a meal and wave at the Saudi's 14kms away over the gulf of Aqaba.
OUr first night there we headed out to St Katherines Monastery at 11pm. 1.5 hours drive then a steep ascent up the 2km high side of Mt Sinai. 7kms in all, but Bob will tell you it was a lot more. For him, all his hard hours at the gym proved little help for our floundering friend. half way up and both his t-shiirts under his jacket were dripping with sweat. 3/4 of the way up and 70 year old women on parambulators (those metal things they use to keep upright and plod along - but really, i dont know if it is even a word) were stepping over his almost lifeless body and up to the summit. finally at the top and he duped blankets off even older women because he was feeling 'hyperthermic' from his now cooled, saturated t-shirts. Ihab of Arabia my bum.
posted by Handsome Hish at 3:01 AM
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