Blog like an Egyptian

We arrived at 6.30pm and were embraced at once by the warmth of the desert night. Marsa Alam airport is made up of a number of brightly lit cubes set down - - it appears - completely at random at the edge of the desert. In thinking through their approach to tourism here, the authorities really have opted for a 'win-win' philosophy. Tourists are attracted to the resort hotels by the magnificent Red Sea and delightful climate. And yet, whilst benfitting from the influx of tourist cash, the real Egypt is kept insulated and immune from the pollution of the side effects of tourism by the simple expedient of the hours of desert that so effectively provide a buffer.

There really is quite literally nothing here except the thin string of upmarket hotel resorts, innoculated from harm on the one side by the sea and on the other by the desert. The hotel itself is low strung and curved around the swimming pools terracing down amid semi-tropical gardens, and, at its open side, facing the sea. The Red Sea here co-operatively channels into a horseshoe-shaped bay, so that viewed from above the whole resort looks like two C shapes set at 90degrees to eachg other. Beyon the arterial service road lies only desert, here in the early morning revealed as a series of mountains.

We arrived last night in time for dinner, retiring for early doors two hibiscus teas later. A bit of personal grooming was in order in preparation for unaccustomed pool-side flesh baring. When I looked again this morning, it appeared that my toenails had been painted by a 5 year old. No matter; I don't think anyone's likely to inspect them.