I'm Back

Upon returning to work this morning, my co-worker looked at my severely blistered feet and said to me.

"That's how everyone comes back from Sinai."

Bruised and happy. The Good Lord cannot give me the perfect vacation so something's gotta hurt.

Last Wednesday my reluctant 19 year old Good Daughter and I set out for the unknown. Everyone had told us to cancel this trip and my daughter told me she had a bad feeling about it - would something bad happen to us over there? With everyone cancelling out on me and my forcing my daughter to come with me, I thought pretty much the same thing, but I had this mysterious force pulling me towards the Sinai Desert. We entered the Egyptian border at Eilat after a pretty boring 4 hour bus ride from Jerusalem. It was quite desolate there at 7:00 pm and eerily quiet. The hotel sent a driver to meet us at the border and off we went. I didn't know whether the guy hated Israelis or is just your typical Egyptian driver. He went along the curves at over 100 KPH and passed other cars on CURVES (!) while daughter and I held hands tightly. She was sweating and I was getting a stress headache. We sauntered into our cozy pink hotel which seemed like a mirage after this ride of terror. Immediately 2 glasses of guava juice appeared together with the manager and owner of the place, wearing a cowboy hat and shorts.

"Have a drink. Put down your bags and let me show you around."

I didn't have time to catch my breath. We picked out our rooms (we were given a choice) and sat down for dinner.

"Welcome to Paradise" said a fellow Israeli with his wife to me. "You won't want to leave this place and this certainly won't be your last time here."

I felt as if I just stepped onto the set of Fantasy Island. From the minute we landed, the all-male staff pampered us. After dinner they lit a fire on the beach and the owner introduced me to everyone, while the young manager asked my daughter if she wanted to play "bool". We had a hard time figuring out what this Egyptian game of Bool was until we realized it was Pool, as in Snooker!!

For the rest of our stay there, the staff was amazing, flirting with us, but knowing their limits and were totally respectful. It was a perfect balance. The next day after telling the owner I'm scared to snorkle, he came with a snorkel mask and wet suit and raft, together with the French singer and her husband and the English woman whose name was Carol, but whom the staff called "Coral". They didn't budge until I put the friggin flappers on my feet and I was hauled off with the whole lot of them. I held onto the raft with one hand and to the owner with my other, while I actually did manage to dip my face in the water for an astounding coral reef show. I felt like I was tripping, looking at all the colorful fish. I laughed thinking of the Mafia saying "you'll be swimming with the fishes" and thought it really isn't too bad a thing.

The next day at low tide the entire area was alive with sea life. Wading up to my ankles I saw an orange octopus, crabs, starfish and every snail was alive and shimmying over the rocks. The Bedouin kids came by with sacks full of beaded jewellery and fawned over us. They were so cute I had to buy a shitload of ankle bracelets and necklaces (for next to nothing).

There were a few of us that bonded - the Israeli couple that welcomed us to Paradise as well as the French singer, who is famous in France and her husband, and the English woman from Devon. We did everything together. We took a jeep trip into the desert and hiked to an Oasis. The owner took us and the trip was on the house. He took us to his eccentric friend's home who built a replica of an ancient castle to live in, complete with tunnels, etc. It looked like the Flintstones meet the Crusaders.

And Carol kept us in stitches most of the time, called the diver Magid "Maggot" and teaching the entire male staff the Conga while sitting by the bonfire on the beach. The staff were not locals but were from Cairo for the most part save for a few that were from Luxor. Two of them fell in love with my daughter and talked with me about her the whole time. It was so sweet how open these young men were about their emotions - one confessing about his first love who got married to someone else. He seemed to be on the verge of tears while telling us this. They didn't think it unmanly to open up. They politely avoided any political discussion and didn't have opinions on anything political - at least not to us. Perhaps they were trained to be that way, and in that respect not offend anyone. But they said the local Bedouin resented them and called them all Pharoahs, which I thought was hysterical.

I saw the more luxurious Hilton Nuweiba which was a perfectly manicured place - but it looked so out of place in Sinai and I was glad I chose a more relaxed and authentic place. Most of the young people stay in "Chushot" - huts with thatched roofs with beds or mattresses in them but public bathrooms. I figured I'm too old to go camping and was so pleased with the staff that escorted us to the Tarabin Bazaars at night, so we wouldn't feel uncomfortable as two women walking around alone.

I don't know what it was about this place. I can be anywhere in the world having the greatest time and yet be thrilled to be going back to Jerusalem. But when we both got into the taxi with the staff coming outside to say their goodbye's to us, we both burst into tears as the cab left. I must say I did feel a bit guilty that I wasn't looking forward to coming back to the Holy City - but I guess I needed that bit of timelessness and a glance into Paradise.