Goodbye Egypt & thanks for a great time

We checked out of the hotel after breakfast, settling up via the convoluted route of currency converted from Egyptian pounds via Euros to US Dollars. A new influx of arrivals had come in last night and most of them – it seemed – were queuing at the dive centre.

The dive centre is set apart from the hotel at the top of the strip of sand that runs between the grounds and the bay. It has a central dome, smooth rendered and indistinguishable from the many others around from outside. But standing inside looking up is like being in a cool bread oven. The bricks of the dome are unplastered and exposed and set in palest pink lime mortar. At the pinnacle of the dome, a perfect circle is open to the desert sky; when it rains, if it ever does here, it must fall inside too.

I slid my crate of borrowed gear under the hatch in the wooden counter on the ground at the base of the heart of the dome. When I paid I was presented with a “Coraya Divers” membership card and a fan of multi-coloured car stickers. I’m going to send one to Rhona - along with the book I bought her at the airport - to be a little piece of Egypt in the middle of Lancaster.

We made our way to the beach and set up our accustomed enclave next to the sea. The four of us spent our last few hours in Egypt in companionable quietness, exchanging only a few words now and then on our regular refreshment trips to the beach-side cafe. I’ve been concentrating on absorbing in minute detail how the heat of the sun feels on my skin as I lie here. It will be many months before I feel that again and I wish I could bottle the sensation for uncorking on the cold and dreary remnants of the winter days that wait for me at home.

Liz and I took one last stroll down the jetty. As we walked, I described to her the fish I’d seen when snorkelling yesterday. I was especially struck by the parrot fish I’d seen grazing on the reef and was telling her about it when one swam into view in the shallow water above the coral under the jetty. As if he’d known we’d wanted him to appear, he stayed in our sight for several minutes, even turning on his side momentarily so Liz could get a proper look at his spectrum of colours.

She and I also took to reflecting on ourselves and what might happen next to us. At a personal level, I know that I’m in a different place emotionally than this time last year when I first visited Egypt. The emotional tsunami that still gripped me at that time has passed; now only a few small waves remain. I think I’ve just about closed that chapter; a few intimate insights I’ve had here give me encouragement that a new one is starting to open. If I do come here again, not only will I be able to claim my very welcome Coraya Divers discount but – with luck and an open heart – I’ll be reading from the lines of that as yet unwritten script. That is a most encouraging souvenir to take home from a wonderful holiday in Egypt.