Windy City

Featured image © Peter Truckle

As I write this the wind is buffeting my hotel room windows. I’ve just left the lagoon beach during a storm, and my taxi driver said he did a U-turn on the road to Sharm because it’s too dark and dangerous in the mountains.

Earlier today I gaily told the hotel staff that I was going early to the beach because rain was forecast at 2pm. Then came the standard response whenever I say this. “Rain? In Dahab? No – it will not rain today.” They simply look skywards and if they see blue, then it’s not happening.

I get to the beach and it is all blue skies, golden sands and glittering water. I feel happy because I’m there early enough to enjoy at least five hours before the rain comes. The guys I know at Dolphin Water Sports say ‘no rain today’. I know better, but still arrange to go out on a wakeboarding trip (I can ride on the boat while someone else wakeboards).

I fit in two dips in the sea, lunch and a good read of my book. Then I look up and suddenly it’s cloudy over the mountains. I don’t feel miserable about it because I knew it was coming. I retreat to Dolphin Water Sports to sip tea and say ‘I told you so’ and they are happily standing about in the rain.

I watch the lightning out across the Gulf of Aqaba while the boys suddenly start up a game of football in the rain. I count the number of miles away the storm is – about 15 by my ‘one, Mississippi’ counting system. All the Swiss Inn staff are out watching it and smiling. All the guests are in the beach bar, ordering cocktails.

It’s raining bit fat drops out there (I’m nursing a Pina Colada) but the sky is turning pink over the mountains and the storm appears to be out at sea (I think it’s now right over the town if the wind is anything to go by). I take a taxi and head back to the hotel.

Dahab is known for being windy – it’s famous in particular for windsurfing – but this is the strongest wind I’ve experienced. It’s whistling through the buildings and even drowning out the multi-voiced call to prayer. Friends are cancelling meet-ups in town so it must be bad. “Full power,” as they say here.

At least I feel safe in my hotel room and there is half of bottle of just-about-drinkable Egyptian wine in my little fridge. They’re saying the wind is going to last for three days (suddenly Egyptians are checking the forecast)  so I’m slightly concerned about my flight on Tuesday, but hey, what’s the worst that can happen?

*hunkers down*

Featured image © Peter Truckle