Wortels en Claret

All things vegan. Travelogue. Resepte. Reis Foto's. Kwotasies

Wortels en Claret

Would you rather have dinner with an American man or would you rather have dinner with a Bedouin man?

Dahab Sunshades

Op die derde windverwaaide en verrassende helder Dahab oggend skeur ek myself van die gebufferde en beskermde heiligdom van die Bedoeïene paviljoen met uitsig Golf van Akaba aan die dawdling geselserig joga groep aansluit by die groot hout ontbyt tafel. Ek het my dronk word van die heerlike vuil en sout wit kaas het, die rissies en vars gekookte ongesuurde brode en verkies om my tee weg te drink uit die rajastic Chit chat van my nuwe Yogic metgeselle. Ek gesleep myself terug na hierdie spreeus toegedraai in sagte natuurlike vesel teen die onderliggende woestyn chill om te hoor wat die veel ingelui (en geld spin ek sinies aangeheg) besoek van die plaaslike gids te sê gehad het oor 'n moontlike woestyn reis.
The Blue Hole
Passiewe aggressiewe uitgeteer joga-onderwyser Celia het presies geweet wat sy wil hê ons moet kies om te doen. Ek is geskiet in vlamme om te probeer om 'n skynbaar heeltemal onmoontlik kombinasie van woestyn reis en natuurreservaat bewerk.
The Canyon
Die gids my genooi om te gaan sit, driftig ek geweier. Hy sit hoog en maer in sy hout stoel in sy grys djellaba en gepraat oor moontlike avonture en heeltemal betower. Met sy taxus snor en dik gewaai hare lyk hy soos 'n soos 'n vet geverf stille film ster weergawe van homself.
Sulkily Ek skulked terug na my gebufferde eensaamheid te staar teen die see. 'N Paar hoofstukke van 'n roman later (wat John Galt was in elk geval) and I walked along the pedestrian and equestrian curvy sea path that stretched between the sparsely populated tents and cushions and their four walled counterparts. The sun, high over head felt damaging and the sea sparkled and shimmered all the way to the menacing mountain walls of Saudi Arabia.
Someone waived to me as I reached the busy diving hub and I ate more hummus with two of my new acquaintances before setting off again alone along the sea path and between the hard selling restaurateurs and hawkers of bric-a-brac stood the charming guide, the purveyor of Bedouin dreams. About six feet six he stood shrouded in robes sipping daintily on the straw in a small carton of juice. He smiled and said hello and asked me if I wanted a tour of the surrounding area, to see the canyon and the views. Cynically, I thought afterwards, I asked him the price of the tour and affronted he told me it was free.

I stayed at the Coral Coast Hotel (which refreshingly doesnt have a website yet, but you can google it!) in Dahab, and flew with Easy Jet

4 thoughts on “Would you rather have dinner with an American man or would you rather have dinner with a Bedouin man?

Leave a Reply to Gaurav Mishra Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

ViperProof by ViperChill