“Where are you going this year?,” I heard, and then as I answered, a malicious comment followed, “Yeah, such people like you can’t just go to a place like Egypt… like normal people”.

I have been to Egypt.
It was an extremely hot August in Poland and even as I was waiting for my delayed charter flight at the airport I felt hot. My first charter flight ever and I was shocked. Click,click, click, click – a cacophony of seatbelts being unfastened surrounded me the moment ‘fasten your seatbelts’ signs were turned off. A moment later I was pushed hard into my seat by a child who had to look through my window. His father followed his suit. The flight continued in noise and commotion and my visit to a bathroom turned unsuccessful, because I stopped after opening the door when I stared at the mess inside horrified, thinking that I might just use the bathroom at the airport when we land.

I don’t know if I was just unlucky or if it’s a norm. I don’t know because since then I’ve never taken a charter flight again, and to be honest, I’m not really looking forward to it.

Dahab was supposed to be a friendly, relaxing place, more touristy than a few years before, but definitely more laid-down than a nearby Sharm-al-Sheikh. And it was.

The days were wonderfully similar: breakfast in a cafe overlooking the sea, preparation of diving gear, diving, lunch, more diving, cold beer, rest, dinner with friends.
Day after day like that.
We admired different coral reefs and fish, ate different food, talked about different topics, but the agenda for each day remained unchanged.
A week passed and I wanted to go to Cairo to see the Pyramids, but on the day it was about to happen, I woke up thinking that if the Pyramids had been standing there so long, they would still be there in the future. So I spent the whole two weeks in Dahab town (I only made two quad trips around).
It was scorching hot, we spent hours in lukewarm water observing fish swimming around the corals. Egyptian food was delicious, cushioned seats invited you to spend long evening hours on endless talks.

I always think about those two weeks as one of the most relaxing holiday ever.
Every time I go somewhere colder I long for a warm sea and white beach.
Every time I ponder over the next holiday destination, I’m not sure if I should choose a new place or something well-known.
Every year I choose a place I don’t know, hoping for something unexpected: And this is why I don’t go to Egypt.