11 February Egypt

Dahab – our souls settled in

Leaving Cairo felt less like a departure and more like an escape executed without drama. A short flight carried us east to Sharm el-Sheikh, where the airport was calm in a way that immediately suggested we were no longer part of the country’s nervous system. We bought a SIM card right there, without negotiation, which again felt suspicious. It worked. We accepted this small miracle and didn’t ask further questions.
The taxi to Dahab had already been arranged by our host, Mo. This detail mattered more than expected. Instead of the usual choreography of bargaining, hesitation, and mild regret, the driver simply knew where to go. On top of this region is very touristy and there’s not so many usual kept drive us and as we need to go more than an hour and two police checkpoint territory it was more than advised to take care of the transport before. We got in, waited for our convoy – yes we were escorted with others by policye through Sinai countryscape. Once the the car moved, and the Sinai unfolded completely outside the window. Long roads, pale mountains, very little to look at and somehow plenty. It was the kind of landscape that makes you quiet without demanding anything in return.
Mo turned out to be exactly as promised and better than advertised. Friendly in a relaxed, unprofessional way. Present without hovering. For Egyptian standards – at least the ones we had encountered so far – he felt remarkably worldly, as if he had seen enough of the world to not need anything from us in particular. Later, we would play table tennis together, a game that revealed nothing about skill levels but a lot about character. He won. Or maybe he didn’t. It didn’t really matter.
Dahab itself settled in quickly. Or rather, we did. Life slipped into the familiar rhythm of backpacker towns: choosing between restaurants that all look temporary, eating food that is better than expected, and repeatedly walking the same stretch along the sea without getting bored. The town doesn’t push experiences at you. It simply allows them to happen, which is more efficient.
Our accommodation sat on the first floor, high enough to feel removed and low enough to stay connected. From there, the view opened toward the sea, the kind of view that makes you stop mid-sentence and forget what you were about to say. We spent time on the beach, time doing very little, and time pretending to be productive in a place that quietly discourages ambition.
After Cairo, the contrast was almost comical. No urgency, no noise, no sense of being late for something unspecified. Dahab felt laid back in the most literal sense: a place where leaning back is the default posture. And for a while, that was exactly enough.

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