restless in safaga

I have a confession.

I told you earlier that coming to Egypt without seeing the Valley of Kings is like going to the United States without visiting Las Vegas.  Well, I did not get to the Valley of Kings.

One of the downsides of shore excursions is that ships often cannot get close to major tourist areas.  Hours of bus time fill the gap. 

But after several hours of bus time for my Cairo and Petra trips, I decided I was not interested in seven or eight hours of bus time to see Luxor and the Valley of the Kings.  I will leave those for my (as yet unscheduled) Nile river tour.

Safaga, the port where we docked, is known for its resorts outside of town.  Some of my fellow cruisers were headed there for some beach time.

That did not interest me.  After all, I seldom visit the beach where I live.  And it is just four blocks away.

Instead, I decided to take a look around the port area.  My first task was to find an internet café.  But I was told there was nothing within walking distance.

And there were no residential neighborhoods nearby for me to reconnoiter.  So, I wandered along the major road running parallel with the shore.

It is hardly fair to draw broad conclusions with so little evidence.  I learned that to my cost on my first one-day visit to San Miguel de Allende when I had absolutely no opinion.

But I did get some initial impressions.  Such as, the town has not dressed up for company.  Our cruise ship docked in the same area where the ferry from Saudi Arabia. docks.  This is the sight that greets visitors to the town.  

As you can see from the photograph of the port’s main street, this section of town is a veneer between the desert and the sea.  One block wide. It hardly qualifies as a Potemkin village.  And there is not much here other than a few shipping services and closed restaurants.

However, I did enjoy some of the signs.  Considering Egypt’s uncertain future, I am not certain what to make of this street sign.  Is the damage to the left or the right? 

Or this one.  Translation can be tricky.  This one looks as if it might have been translated by cousin Nela who visited London twio years ago.

What is “clemery?”  Whatever it is, it must be part of “mix food.”  Apparently mixed with fish, shrimps, lobster, meat, and chicken.

If I had ignored the graffiti of Cartagena, Safaga would not have provided an interesting alternative.  The wall around a new complex is covered with small murals.  Not quite in the primitive style.  Closer to seventh grade art project.

The most interesting art piece I encountered was at a storage area on the dock.  The wind had impaled plastic wrap on the protective barbed wire – preventing either one to function as designed.

So what can be made of the piece?  The barbed wire as tyranny trapping the free plastic?  Or the postmodern plastic overcoming the modern barbed technology?  Or the utter futility of all human endeavor?

Maybe it is nothing more than Christo minimalism.

I told you we shared the dock with the ferries from Saudi Arabia.  Watching their arrival was educational.

Plenty of cars.  Plenty of pedestrians.  Of all my photographs of the ferries, though, this is my favorite.  The observant Muslim woman is tugging along a girl dressed as modern as a girl her age can be.

A harbinger of the future?  Or just more proof that far too many of us are prisoners of our own history?  Including me.

All I know is I have left Egypt behind to sail amongst the pirates.  But I am looking forward to returning to Egypt to see the attractions of Upper Egypt.