Well I flew out of Gatwick yesterday morning. It wasn't a good omen seeing a wall of fire from a crashed helicopter on the TV screens before takeoff.
On arrival in Sharm El Sheikh I found I had an inside room. Literally. The room had no external facing anything - both the door and window of it faced out onto an internal corridor. Still for a single traveller I don't care.
First day of Scuba diving, and I couldn't get down as I was unable to clear my ears on descent. (Makes a difference from being "unable to get it up" I suppose
).
Still the instructor is a babe. I think I put her in mind as to what I was looking for when in response to her inviting us all to the pub tomorrow night I asked "Are there going to be any single women there?"
Then over lunch on the boat I made my first mistake - in an attempt to impress her with my dare-devil aviation exploits I discussed with her my problems getting my doctor to sign the medical for my private pilots licence - due to my taking antidepressants.
"You're taking antidepressants?" she asked, concerned..
So that was my afternoon dive cancelled, and straight afterwards she karted me off to see the dive specialist doctor to discuss whether the medication I am taking precludes me from scuba. Nice of her to accompany me along to see the doc. On her own
Turns out she is returning home to England in a few weeks, permanently minus her boyfriend. Maybe I'm in there? <nudge nudge wink wink>
Still the good doctor said I am OK to dive to 12 meters, so I can continue to dive but with a guide. I wish I would learn to keep my mouth shut!
Tonight those flipping aggressive stall holders next to the beach. One of them got me in his shop selling purfume from some grotty shelf-mounted bottles, and offered me a complementary smoke from one of those funny water-bubbling smoking machine contraptions that arabs and junkies are apt to use. Thinking it cost only a quid for a smoke, and a little drunk from a couple of glasses of Heineken I submitted to Abdul's perfume sales pitch.
10 quid was what I anticipated it would cost for a couple of jars of poured perfume, and he didn't volunteer any prices up front. Seems fair?
No.
100 quid!
No way am I paying that. tulip! daffodil! geraniums!
I offered him a couple of quid to let me out. Then the 10 quid I anticipated; and he let me leave with one of two bottles, but saying the amount I paid was an insult to him! and his family!
So there we go, I've just planted the seed for the next Al Qaeda terrorist attack.
Will be back in 24 hours for a report on day 2. It can only get better from here!
On arrival in Sharm El Sheikh I found I had an inside room. Literally. The room had no external facing anything - both the door and window of it faced out onto an internal corridor. Still for a single traveller I don't care.
First day of Scuba diving, and I couldn't get down as I was unable to clear my ears on descent. (Makes a difference from being "unable to get it up" I suppose
).Still the instructor is a babe. I think I put her in mind as to what I was looking for when in response to her inviting us all to the pub tomorrow night I asked "Are there going to be any single women there?"
Then over lunch on the boat I made my first mistake - in an attempt to impress her with my dare-devil aviation exploits I discussed with her my problems getting my doctor to sign the medical for my private pilots licence - due to my taking antidepressants.
"You're taking antidepressants?" she asked, concerned..
So that was my afternoon dive cancelled, and straight afterwards she karted me off to see the dive specialist doctor to discuss whether the medication I am taking precludes me from scuba. Nice of her to accompany me along to see the doc. On her own
Turns out she is returning home to England in a few weeks, permanently minus her boyfriend. Maybe I'm in there? <nudge nudge wink wink>
Still the good doctor said I am OK to dive to 12 meters, so I can continue to dive but with a guide. I wish I would learn to keep my mouth shut!
Tonight those flipping aggressive stall holders next to the beach. One of them got me in his shop selling purfume from some grotty shelf-mounted bottles, and offered me a complementary smoke from one of those funny water-bubbling smoking machine contraptions that arabs and junkies are apt to use. Thinking it cost only a quid for a smoke, and a little drunk from a couple of glasses of Heineken I submitted to Abdul's perfume sales pitch.
10 quid was what I anticipated it would cost for a couple of jars of poured perfume, and he didn't volunteer any prices up front. Seems fair?
No.
100 quid!
No way am I paying that. tulip! daffodil! geraniums!
I offered him a couple of quid to let me out. Then the 10 quid I anticipated; and he let me leave with one of two bottles, but saying the amount I paid was an insult to him! and his family!
So there we go, I've just planted the seed for the next Al Qaeda terrorist attack.
Will be back in 24 hours for a report on day 2. It can only get better from here!
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