Week Sixty-Nine

Done it: it's 43 degrees today (110 Fahrenheit), or so my thermometer tells me, and who am I to argue with an inanimate object? My worry now is that my little thermometer only goes up to 50 degrees (when I bought it in Edinburgh, I kinda figured that would be enough). Breakfast, as usual, takes up the entire morning (with some sex) and then a little writing and internet time rounds out my afternoon. In the meantime Milla does more work on her bikini (I think it's a lost cause - it's becoming a marathon effort, and all because you can't buy swimwear here: possibly no-one imports it into Egypt) and does more shopping. She manages to haggle a souvenir shop from 67EL down to 15EL for a silver Isis cartouche, which she then decides not to buy. Adding this guy to the list of shopkeepers to avoid (including the Copts who wanted her/us to come with them for Christmas in Sharm El Sheikh down the coast - there's a church there), she also gets the usual supplies. Today's haul includes cigarettes, humous by a company called "California Garden" (that's "Gulf Foods International - California Garden") and some "Natural Drink Water" from the "Untied (sic) Company for Natural Water". The humous, incidentally, includes "natural spices", which makes me wonder what kind of unnatural spices are used in most food products here.
We spend the evening arguing over nothing really, being grumpy with each other, having a long and serious conversation about the shape of our future together, playing cards (we both win today: me 5-0, Milla 5-4), and eventually crash about 02.00.

Our first full week here, ending yesterday, has cost $108/£70 for two, two-thirds of which has been on over-priced food: it's where the locals must make their money. It's also 43 degrees again, so (unbelievably) it looks as if we arrived during a cool spell: there's something very convenient about being able to pop wet stuff (towels, flip-flops, newly-washed ashtrays) outside for ten minuutes and then bring them in again warm and dry. It's also a pretty unusual temperature for Christmas: it's Orthodox Christmas today (at least for the Pravoslavniks, Armenians, Copts and Ethiopians - possibly others) - Milla had been considering budding to Sharm el-Sheikh (and its church) today, but that plan comes to nothing. Instead we stay in and alter our routine only inasmuch as we don't eat breakfast outside, but both write as we eat: even including 45 minutes of card-playing, we have a reasonably productive (rather than inert) morning. Afternoon sees some alcohol consumption and internet time: evening is cards and writing and arguing: so it's much more our normal routine.
The mosquito problem has been fixed by using the little insecticide tabs from the electrically-heating dispensers, balanced on top of a lightbulb. This makes the last couple of evenings much more hassle-free. As happened at Talal's in Beirut, though, an initially small Japanese contingent at this camp has suddenly turned into a swarm: they're noisy into the early hours (individual Japanese are always quiet, clean and friendly - in larger groups they become raucous, dirty and insular; and most of the girls have really stupid giggly laughs).

Up later than usual (08.50), I wake Milla just after 09.00 with her morning cup of coffee: we bum around for the morning (I shower, wash my hair and shave) and then Milla hits a nearby swimming pool (she's given up on the bikini and is using an underwear set instead - apparently the water in the pool is freezing, but not salty). I spend the intervening time writing (still four days behind in Lebanon, and one in Jordan). She returns after a long discussion with the guy at the pool (about Arabs covering their women, and Israelis, and so on - clearly avoiding any potentially sensitive areas), and we play cards for a bit. Other news? Well, the delivery of drinking yoghurt has finally been with new flavours raspberry and apricot (to join strawberry, the excellent mango and peach). Other than that sex, sleeping, more cards, chatting and writing take us to bed at 03.15 on our first day of 2003 without an argument.

There's a bit of a breeze this morning, so the temperature only gets up to 36: normally it's quite still for the first few hours after dawn, hence the morning readings. Breakfast's experiment is guava drinking yoghurt (not so good), followed by a relaxed bumming-around sort of a day: it's pretty relaxing here, despite the ongoing knot of packagees (there's more and more with pre-school kids), and especially now that Milla's pretty much got over the mental block over how grubby the accommodation is.
In the evening we make more enquiries about diving courses, trying to find out where we can get -4.00 masks (so we can see where we're going: we're both half-blind). After beer we also take a wander south along the coast: the accommodation gets gradually more upmarket the closer you get to Dahab City (swimming pools, bars, private beaches), and there's lots more going up - mainly hotels and holiday flats rather than more camps: the camps seem to be migrating to the more primitive northern end of the resort. There's also a big Papyrus shop, more like a museum, which is quite impressive. More impressive are the stars (they were also excellent on the drive down from Nuweiba): after walking back we go up onto the roof with binoculars, but there's just too much light around the resort.
I hit the sack early (about midnight), apparently exhausted by all this inactivity.

Up at 7-something for a shower and so on before Milla stirs. We've breakfasted by 09.00, tidied and cleaned and written (yesterday) by 10.00 and then Milla showers. Today's Friday, which means we have to endure much more discourse from the minarets: we wouldn't mind, but frankly the muezzins here are pretty crap in comparison with almost everywhere else we've been (it's all the same words, just with unique intonation/interpretation). It being Friday, around 11.45 the sermons/Qu'ran readings start, broadcast from the minaret loudspeakers: there normally go on for an hour or so, and different mosques seem to consider themselves in competition with others.
We do some internet, some shopping and then back to the room where Milla sleeps and we entertain one of the camp's little cats: it explores, drinks lots of non-salty water, enjoys corned beef, eats local bread (though less enthusiastically) and refuses to touch the mesh (our local "cheese" spread - despite Milla's efforts we still have lots left, and our plan of giving it to local cats seems to be a no-goer). Our diet at the moment, incidentally, is pitta bread sandwiches with humous, corned beef and tomato sauce - real healthy living.
In the evening we look at diving schools again and narrow our options down to two - one with and one without prescription masks. We also squeeze in a couple of beers.

Our eight-month anniversary - two-thirds of a year: the fact we're counting, and considering each one a minor triumph, is kinda worrying. Proving the independence of cats from man, the little cat from yesterday hands around our door from about 07.00 until Milla goes out and gives it breakfast. Hardly able to contain our excitement at still being together, we spend the day doing the same stuff as usual - beer, sitting around, internet, playing cards. In the evening we decide to celebrate with a meal, head out a bit too early (around sunset, say 17.00) and decide that most places aren't geared up for food yet. We go back to our room for an in-between snack, and then fall asleep. Pretty late we go out for beer (we had a couple in the afternoon), vodka (and pineapple juice) and a large chicken pasty. We also decide to book a diving course for tomorrow, but don't get round to it. Perhaps tomorrow we'll book for the next day.

The day after our anniversary sees an intermittent continuation of a "discussion" we started yesterday, about where we're going to go and when (and why). It's intermittent because Milla mostly sleeps today. She woke up briefly when I made coffee in the morning, woke up again when I went to the internet place, woke up for long enough to open the door for me when I came back, and finally gets up for the day at 18.00. Her first task, of course, is to let "our" cat in for an extended feeding and play session. She puts a little meal on a plastic bag outsided for our feline friends, but because she mixes some mesh in with it, it's mostly still there a few hours later: never mind - the giant ants seem to be appreciating it.
Our discussion centres on the route immediately after Egypt: despite agreeing to my route, costing and timing way back in Bucuresti, now that we're about to head south into Africa Milla has strong reservations. Reservations which have strengthened over the past couple of days into a refusal to go. In the absence of any alternative plan, I'm still intending going that way, which will pretty much mean separating. There's another issue here which is that even if we go elsewhere after Egypt, then I'll probably want to come back some time in the future after making a bit more money and, if necessary, do it alone - which kinda sabotages any longer-term settling down, having kids, starting a career type of normal family planning which people do when they get married. This discussion is one of the things on our list to do in Dahab, and one of the reasons we stopped here - we don't reach any conclusions, though.