Morning Revelations (and a Confession)

?The Battle of the Blinds

?Let’s be honest: there’s nothing quite like waking up in a 5-star resort, stretching your arms, and realizing you’ve utterly failed your first minor test of holiday logistics. I woke up at a respectable 07:45, feeling like a pharaoh in silk sheets. My better half, Michele, however, did not share my morning bliss. She was already wide awake, staring blankly at the ceiling, having been blasted by the fierce Egyptian sun since the crack of dawn.

?Last night, we’d both had a look at the windows and mutually agreed that the thin, gauzy curtains were purely decorative and wouldn’t keep out a single photon. Cue me, playing the role of the sympathetic husband. But on a closer, more caffeinated inspection this morning, I discovered that tucked neatly behind the net curtains was a magnificent set of heavy-duty blackout blinds. They had been sitting there all night, completely unused. My fault? Yeah, I guess I’ll take the rap for that one. Happy wife, happy life, and all that—though I’m definitely going to need a few more brownie points to make up for the early wake-up call.

?A Tale of Two Omelettes

?By 08:45, showered and suitably apologetic, we headed out for our first proper breakfast. Michele opted for a lovely, light combination of yoghurt followed by a cheese and mushroom omelette. I decided to start with a plate of fresh fruit before diving headfirst into a Spanish omelette.

While we were enjoying our morning brew, Michele pointed out an interesting quirk of the local hospitality. Not a single waiter would make direct eye contact or speak to her; every interaction, from ordering the eggs to requesting a refill of orange juice, was funneled entirely through me. It wasn’t an issue at all—we both knew coming out here that it’s simply a traditional aspect of Egyptian culture—but it was one of those things she’d predicted before we even left the tarmac back home. I, for one, quite enjoyed my brief tenure as the official Ambassador of Breakfast.

?Beach Bums and Ghost Hotels

?Snorkelling with Side Plates

?Breakfast sorted, we linked up with our partners-in-crime, Darren and Tracy, and made a beeline for the beach. The plan was simple: swim, chill, repeat. While the girls parked themselves sensibly on the shoreline to soak up some rays, Darren and I decided to don our masks and hit the Red Sea for a spot of snorkelling.

?To be fair, it wasn’t exactly Finding Nemo. The fish population was a bit thin on the ground today, but we did manage to spot a few colourful characters. What we did encounter, however, were several small jellyfish floating around. Now, when I say small, I don’t mean thimble-sized—these things were roughly the size of ceramic side plates. Thankfully, they were more interested in drifting aimlessly than bothering us, so we managed to keep our skin intact and our dignity functional.

?The Unfinished Oasis

?Once we dried off, Darren and I went for a bit of a wander to explore the wider complex. We even managed to catch a few fleeting views of the sister hotel next door—the very one we were supposed to be staying in, which is currently still a bustling building site. Looking at the bare concrete and the scaffolding, I think it’s safe to say we dodged a bullet there. Our current digs are much better, and we toasted to our good fortune with a couple of cold, crisp Heinekens back on the sun loungers.

?Shopping Sprees and Local Eats

?The Great Optician Disconnect

?By lunchtime, we decided to venture over to the fully completed international buffet restaurant at the sister hotel next door. But before we could sample the goods, Darren had a mission. He’d spotted a local optician offering a cracking deal on cheap varifocal lenses for an existing set of frames he’d brought out from home.

?Now, the moment Darren stepped into the optician’s shop to talk shop, a critical tactical error occurred: he lost his grip on Tracy’s hand.

?Rule #1 of Holiday Shopping: Never let go of your wife’s hand near an Egyptian market unless your wallet is prepared for the consequences.

?Left to her own devices for more than thirty seconds, Tracy was off like a rocket, drawn magnetically to the nearby rows of local shops. It was an impressive disappearing act, but we eventually managed to corral everyone back together before any serious damage was done to the holiday fund.

?Buffet Gains and Kindle Pages

?Lunch itself was a grand affair. I bypassed the standard holiday fare and went straight for the gorgeous grilled fish, which washed down beautifully with another cold beer. You’ve got to keep hydrated in this heat, after all.

The rest of the afternoon was a masterclass in relaxation. We headed back down to our beach spots, where I cracked open my Kindle and got completely lost in the latest Jack Reacher novel. As the sun started to dip and the heat softened, we decamped to our hotel room’s garden area for some serious, uninterrupted chilling.

?A Greek Tragedy (and a Fishy Detour)

?Tracy Takes the Lead

?As evening rolled around, anticipation was high for our booking at the resort’s Greek à la carte restaurant. To set the proper holiday mood, we gathered for a couple of light beverages beforehand. Suitably lubricated, we set off for a quick bimble across the complex, foolishly allowing Tracy to take the lead.

?This turned out to be a brilliant exercise in geographical confusion. Tracy marched us with absolute, unshakeable confidence right through the doors of… the fish restaurant. Luckily, Darren noticed the distinct lack of moussaka on the tables and came to the rescue, swiftly redirecting our small caravan back onto the correct path toward Greece.

?Tough Lamb and Rubber Boots

?I’d love to say the Greek meal was a culinary triumph, but it was a bit of a mixed bag. The food was okay overall, but it didn’t quite hit the heights of a 5-star experience. Tracy’s calamari was deemed far too rubbery—she practically needed a knife and fork just to manage a single ring.

?My main was the kleftico (a classic slow-cooked lamb shank). Now, a proper kleftico should fall off the bone if you so much as look at it crossly. This one, unfortunately, was a little on the tough side. The lamb definitely needed a much longer, slower cook in the oven to coax out that melt-in-the-mouth tenderness. It wasn’t a total disaster, but as a bloke who appreciates a good roast, I know it could have been spectacular with an extra hour or two of patience.

Winding Down for an Early Night

?The Victoria Inn Verdict

?With dinner finished and a massive day ahead of us tomorrow, the girls decided to call it an evening and headed straight back to the rooms to get some beauty sleep. Darren and I, however, felt it was our solemn duty to inspect the nightlife.

?We wandered into the “Victoria Inn” located on site. Sadly, it was a proper wrong choice. It didn’t have much in the way of atmosphere and the drinks left a lot to be desired. Not to be defeated, we quickly abandoned ship and headed back to the bar right by our rooms for a final, much more satisfying nightcap.

?Final Thoughts at 21:50

?And that brings us to right now. It is currently 21:50 local time, and I am officially tucked up in bed writing this up while Michele is fast asleep next to me (and yes, the blackout blinds are firmly drawn tonight!).

We have an incredibly early start tomorrow—the alarm is set for a brutal 04:00 because our private taxi leaves for The Valley of The Kings at exactly 05:00. It’s going to be a long, hot, and fascinating day exploring ancient tombs and walking in the footsteps of the Pharaohs. You can bet your life tomorrow’s blog post is going to be an absolute blockbuster.

?Until then, goodnight from Egypt!