Hurghada at two in the morning from the thick monocle of window as we approach landing resembled an ecstatic vigil on some remote moon; wild sigils written in lights--all loops and swirls surrounded by desert and red sea. But Hurghada is not so humble as it's approach in the night. It's more like Las Vegas where nobody wins. The airport whined of Russian families and tired staff. In fact, there are more Russians and Germans in Hurghada (or so it seems) than Egyptians, hambdullah! Russians in tight, short jean skirts and badly bleached hair gaggling about the uncontrolled traffic lanes with only the occasional galabiya poking through making it's way towards the scratchy muezzin sandwiched between two hotels. Hurghada is a city of hotels and small segments of mostly private beach. 
There are more than three-hundred hotels; expensive imitations of Arabian folklore and Persian literature. Tacky but full. It is the South Beach in Egyptian terms, and at first, for Eugénie and I, very difficult to not want to run away from. Then we joined our friends. Yessy "Jasmine" Klein is a German teacher who's been finding her own way in Hurghada for nearly twenty years. She speaks fluent German, Arabic, Egyptian, and English, as well as pretty good French and Chinese. Tarek is an Egyptian born Turk who owns a hotel and diving center in Hurghada as well as a Safari tour in the dessert. Ayman is a brilliant tour guide from Cairo whom spent the last two years in Beijing after he taught himself Mandarin and passed the work visa fluency exam at 80%. It is with these three that we have begun to explore and absorb. Our interest has been peaked as each offered us their firm accounts of what it means to exist in this country at this time. It was with Ayman that we have explored today the winding back alleys of the old residential district which he informed us was a new experience for himself as well. It also provided the first real gems of landscape sound for my practice, as well as a grand exercise for Eugénie for the worst of photographic conditions. We will leave tomorrow for El Gouna, where we will spend some time out at sea with a retired French couple we met on the plane who live in a boat and will be sailing down through Eritrea soon. And after we move north to join Eugénie's friend in Cairo where our work can more officially begin. Inch'Allah.
There are more than three-hundred hotels; expensive imitations of Arabian folklore and Persian literature. Tacky but full. It is the South Beach in Egyptian terms, and at first, for Eugénie and I, very difficult to not want to run away from. Then we joined our friends. Yessy "Jasmine" Klein is a German teacher who's been finding her own way in Hurghada for nearly twenty years. She speaks fluent German, Arabic, Egyptian, and English, as well as pretty good French and Chinese. Tarek is an Egyptian born Turk who owns a hotel and diving center in Hurghada as well as a Safari tour in the dessert. Ayman is a brilliant tour guide from Cairo whom spent the last two years in Beijing after he taught himself Mandarin and passed the work visa fluency exam at 80%. It is with these three that we have begun to explore and absorb. Our interest has been peaked as each offered us their firm accounts of what it means to exist in this country at this time. It was with Ayman that we have explored today the winding back alleys of the old residential district which he informed us was a new experience for himself as well. It also provided the first real gems of landscape sound for my practice, as well as a grand exercise for Eugénie for the worst of photographic conditions. We will leave tomorrow for El Gouna, where we will spend some time out at sea with a retired French couple we met on the plane who live in a boat and will be sailing down through Eritrea soon. And after we move north to join Eugénie's friend in Cairo where our work can more officially begin. Inch'Allah. 
A deux heures du matin en ce dimanche 16 novembre, l'aéroport de Hurghada est encore, ou déjà pourrait-on dire, plein à craquer. Des vagues de touristes se succèdent aux différents guichets pour l'achat des visas et le contrôle des passeports. Bienvenu à Hurghada, grande cité balnéaire sur la Mer Rouge. La ville, construite de toute pièce il y a quelques années, est un paradis pour touristes, nous dirons donc plutôt que c'est un véritable enfer. Les étrangers sont partout, des Russes surtout (22%), des Allemands (17%) dans plus de 300 hôtels resorts tous plus beaux et chers les uns que les autres.
La ville est divisée en deux, d'un côté se trouve Ad - Dahar, quartier populaire habité pas les Egyptiens et les touristes fauchés venus faire de la plongée. De l'autre côté se trouve Sigala, ghetto lumineux où des miliers de touristes arrivent tous les jours. Le soir, les grandes avenues et les boutiques scintillent de toute part, un peu comme à Las Vegas. Le touriste a raison, les plages sont magnifiques mais entre les grillages des hôtels et les zones militaires, il est bien difficile d'en profiter. Le muezzin n'est pas très actif à Hurghada, il se réveille vers 11 heures du matin, les mosquées de la ville semblent avoir moins de succès qu'ailleurs. 
Plus techniquement nous sommes installés chez Jasmine Klein, une Allemande habitant en Egypte depuis 20 ans. Cette dernière nous a herbergé 2 nuits. Accompagnés de ses amis Tarek et Ayman, tous deux travaillant dans le tourisme, nous parcourons la ville de long en large. Demain nous partons pour El Gouna, une autre station balnéaire à 20 km au Nord de Hurghada. Nous allons tenter de trouver le voilier nommé OTUIM. Les propriétaires sont des amis rencontrés dans l'avion, ils nous ont proposé de passer, alors nous les croiserons bien quelque part, Inch'Allah. Ps : sachez chers concitoyens français que pour nos amis égyptiens, le port de lunettes rectangulaires est l'incarnation absolue du "style" français (il en est de même pour le chèche bleu tout droit venu du Mali).
