Benny's report from Egypt - part 2

By Friday, the sunburn had abated a bit, thanks to plenty of slathering with something called Badger Bali Balm, and some spray on aftersun stuff. There was no blistering but Sally still reckons she's going to peel. Still, she was out in the pool this morning doing the aquafit with the very enthusiastic entertainments guy who keeps pushing people into the pool. The wind had picked up again - yesterday, predictably, was the nicest day of the holiday for weather: plenty of sun but very little wind. Typical.


Friday afternoon was the time for another trip. This time we went into the eastern desert in a very clunky jeep and visited a Bedouin village. The driver of the jeep spent most of the time fiddling around with his radio, and not looking at the road, which made for quite a white knuckle ride. It was even scarier when the two cameramen filming the experience were riding on top of the jeeps in the convoy to the edge of the desert - crazy fools.

We stopped to see a mirage that wasn't there, and again to see some rocks (and a lot of empty water bottles). Then we arrived at the Bedouin village and were given tea, and a tour. We went on a camel ride, too. I was quite enjoying the experience of being carried around by another animal until Sally decided she wanted a picture of me with MH and THREW me across the gap between them - it's enough to turn my horns white, it really is.

We also observed some women weaving, and another making a big flat bread, and we had a look at the mosque (Sally and MH weren't allowed in, being women, so I observed through a window rather than leave them alone outside). And we saw this big dung pile, it was camel dung which was being dried ready for burning as fuel by the Bedouins. My grandad told me once that the Native Americans used to do this with our dung, back in America.

All the while, this crazy loud youth was racing around filming our every move. He was truly tenacious - running up to the top of hills and filming us, and then running past and putting the camera on the ground for a new angle, and dancing around trying to make us laugh and play up to the camera. Turns out, he videos the experience and then sells the DVDs to the visitors, and that's his job. He was certainly very good at it, but unfortunately nobody in the group bought the DVD at the end, which must have been quite depressing for him.

After a visit to a Bedouin shop (not the one labelled Tesco, you can just see it in the background here)


we had a quick Bedouin dinner and a short Bedouin show, and then we got back in the jeeps and drove back to civilisation. I was ready for a nap by this point so Sally and MH left me in the room while they went into town to do some bartering. They came back with lots of scarves, and some sort of mysterious furry thing which Sally quickly hid, whispering something about me not approving.

Sally was laughing after the experience. She said she'd had a very long conversation with one Egyptian trader who evidently wanted more than just to sell her some scarves. Here's what she said happened...

Shopkeeper: So, what are you doing now?
Sally: Waiting for my mum to pick a scarf...
SK: Ah ha ha ha...I mean, can we maybe go for a coffee now, and we'll talk?
S: Er, no, I have to catch the bus back to my hotel.
SK: Which hotel are you staying at?
S: The Pearl (this was a lie, which Sally had concocted, having heard that guests from the Marriott were more likely to get ripped off)
SK: Oh. The Pearl. Yes, this hotel is not very good, I think. Ah, so. Maybe, when you go back to the UK, we can communicate, via email?
S: No, sorry.
SK: MSN?
S: No! I don't think my husband would like that very much, he's the jealous type, ha ha ha.
SK: Ha ha ha! Well, then, we just won't tell him, ha ha ha!
S: No, I can't do that! There should be no secrets between a man and his wife!
SK: Ha ha ha! (
At this point MH picked her scarf and thankfully interrupted this awkward tete a tete)
SK: Well, Sally, do you have any children?
S: No, I'm a teacher! I have enough children! S
K: Ha ha ha! You're so funny, Sally! Can I SMS you when you're back in the UK?
S: Er, no. We're leaving. Bye.

She also said that a few times she told the shopkeepers she was from the UK and they tried to tempt her inside by saying, "Asda price! BOGOF! Lovely jubbly!" which was quite disconcerting. They also had some authentic Egyptian food whilst out....well, MH did.



Sally and MH were approached by a lot of men who wanted to write their names in Arabic for them, and finally consented to the last man, who approached them by the bus back to the hotel. They were both a bit suspicious but MH was very pleased when she showed her postcard to the guard at the hotel and he was able to accurately read her name from it. I guess they're not all full of it.

Saturday had arrived all too quickly. I felt good about having visited a new continent, but didn't feel much like I'd seen the real Egypt - more just a sanitised, carefully vetted version, produced just for tourists, down the carefully raked, imported sand on the private beach, and the signs written everywhere in English, then Russian, the Arabic. I suppose that's the sort of holiday you get when you want just a beach and a sun lounger - it's a bit like staying at home, but with nicer weather. People were certainly incredibly helpful: MH had a black wrap she didn't want, and left in the hotel room. The porter came running down with it in a bag (with Sally's precious Boden coat which she'd almost left behind) and so MH trid to leave it on the table in the hotel, only to have another porter chase the bus with it. Finally she lost it in the airport toilet.

And now we're back in the UK, and Benny's Egyptian adventures are over. Look out for Benny's adventures in snowland, coming soon....apparently Sally's getting some skis made for me this time.

Benny's report from Egypt - part 1

Hi bison fans, it's Benny here. Those of you who are friends with Sally on Facebook might recognise me from such adventures as, Benny goes traveling around America, and Benny goes skiing. There was no Benny goes to Prague, WAS THERE? Yes, bit of a sore point there, sorry.

This week, it's Benny goes to Hurghada, on the Red Sea. The flight over was quite uneventful, although delayed, and Sally insisted I travel upside down in her handbag and kept putting her socks on my belly, so I was mildly annoyed by the time we got to Cairo. Then things seemed to get very busy. We stood in a queue for a long time while Sally chatted to someone she told me afterwards was her PGCE lecturer, in Cairo on History business. Small world! Then the Egyptian dude with the stamp got quite irate and made Sally go back to the bank desk to get a visa. She was wittering on about how she wished the rep had told her but I think she was just being her usual feckless self and hoping everything would fall neatly into her lap.

Anyway, once we'd got the visas (I don't need one apparently) we were rushed at top speed through to the other terminal by a couple of sweating reps who thought we were going to Sharm al Sheikh and were on the point of missing our flight. When they realised we had an hour to spare it all got a bit calmer and I had a nap, and by the time I woke up again we were in the hotel room.

And very swish it is too! I thought Sally had been stiffing me on accommodation and staying in swanky places like this before, but she seemed as awestruck as me. We'd not been in the room long enough to pick room service food when a very eager young man showed up with a bowl of fruit, a kettle, a big bottle of water, a bottle of wine (no corkscrew, but I offered to get the cork out with my horn) and a plate of cakes. Here I am trying to graze on them, but as you can see the plate has already been massacred.

The beds were very comfy with very soft linens and there's air conditioning and a lovely sea view. Consequently, we all slept very well overnight. Sally and Mother Hand got up around 10 and went for breakfast – Sally said she had something called babba ganoosh, whatever that is, and French toast, and was very impressed by the number of sparrows holding their own against the big black and grey raven type birds. Meanwhile I had a bit of a stamp around the room and a room cleaning guy came in to make the beds and played with me for a bit, finally leaving me on the bed like this. Sally thought that was very funny.

Then it was time for the pool. Mother Hand has a great bison-carrying bag. Sally set me to graze under this palm tree for a while and one of the big ravenny things came over, all interested like. We tried to have a chat but the bison-bird language barrier quickly became a problem, and he went back to bathing in the shallow end of the pool and rolling around on the grass. Then a small child came over and started playing with me. Sally didn't look very happy but I think she must be a bit scared of children because she didn't say anything. The child tried to force me to graze and said I was a cow, in German. We had a couple of shepherd dogs from Germany back in Yellowstone so I understood enough to be offended. I tried stamping my hooves and huffing a bit but it had no effect. Once the child had gone Sally put me on the end of her sun lounger and we napped in the sun all afternoon.

And that was about it for day 1. Sally and Mother Hand went to dinner at some Italian place and then came back and did some more reading. I wish I could read, it must be fascinating – neither of them have really stopped doing it since we arrived.

In fact, day 2 passed in much the same way – reading, and sunbathing. Today we went to the private beach owned by the hotel and both of them went in the sea for a bit, leaving me to relax. Sally had a go with a snorkel, it makes her look really funny, and there was a bit of a commotion at one point when a big school of white fish came very close to the shore and Sally wanted her camera to take underwater pictures of them. Big deal, they’re only fish.

Some extremely pumped up guy came over, I’d noticed him yesterday wandering around carrying a clipboard, and it seems he sells massages at the spa attached to the hotel. Sally and MH decided they were going to go for a Cleopatra massage that very evening and then went back to their hotel room and promptly fell asleep for most of the afternoon, as if to prepare. Sally was trying to read a book on the Great Wall of China, but she’s frowning most of the time so I don’t think it can be very good. She said it was a present from her headmaster, who forgot to come to a lesson observation that had been calendared, and she thought she had better try and read it just in case he ever asks her about it. She’s such a brown noser, that girl.

Anyway, by the time they’d woken up from extended nap time it was time for their Cleopatra massages. Bison not welcome. Humph! There’s a surprise. They both looked very relaxed when they came back, and smelled of coconut. Apparently when the two meassage therapists were helping them to undress, they asked what their names were. “I’m Sally,” replied….well, Sally. “An Egyptian name!” said one of the ladies. “Well, Sara really,” said MH (who always has to complicate things). “Another Egyptian name!” replied the lady. Sally said it reminded her of the Indian man from Goodness Gracious Me. I think she forgets that I haven’t been living in the UK long enough to get these little references of hers.

It seems that the massage consisted of a sauna, a rub down with some coconut and a facemask, a shower, a steam, a plunge in the cold pool, a whirly spa bath, and a full body massage. Phew! It sounds exhausting. I’d settle of having my horns polished and my back fur fluffed up a bit, but apparently humans like their comforts.

Sally had a bit of a sore forehead when she came back and it quickly became obvious that something had noshed on it, because it swelled right up and she looked a bit like Eddy Munster – though only on one side. This effect lasted until the end of Tuesday, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at her a bit.

It was also on Monday that the pair of them tried to go shopping, which left Sally in an extremely poor temper, thanks to all the taxis honking their horns at them as they walked down the street, and the men running out of shops to try and sell them things. In the end they returned with some milk and water, and some snacks to keep them going through the effort of being massages (ha ha) and a tin of tuna, which had to be opened by the hotel kitchen. Sally was put in an even worse mood than this (she’s so mardy sometimes) because she imagined the room would be charged. Everything here seems to incur a charge. Don’t they realize that she’s spent all her money on the holiday?!

Tuesday passed without much event, mainly because Sally gave up with the China book and started the next installment in that historical fiction series she’s become obsessed with. She finished the last one at Christmas but said the end of it annoyed her so much she didn’t want to find out what happened next. Evidently, that problem is passed because she was motoring through it. In the evening they went out and left me (again) and came back looking very cheerful, having had a very nice meal in a very nice fish restaurant.

Wednesday was trip day. They had an early breakfast and then we got onto this very lovely minibus, which had been decorated in many interesting and colourful ways. Here I am having a look at it all. Evidently the driver took great pride in it. We picked up loads of other people, mainly from a place called Holland, and then we arrived at a marina and everyone got snorkels and flippers. Sally said they had none to fit me, and I was quite relieved because I’m not a very good swimmer. I spent the day on the boat and tanning on the beach while Sally spent the day snorkeling around, taking pictures of the fish underwater and getting very annoyed with her snorkel, which, it seems, would only allow her three of four breaths before filling with water. Even Mother Hand had a go – very brave of her, since she told me privately beforehand that she didn’t like putting her face in the water. The man on the boat was very helpful to her, though, and stayed with her the whole time. She was particularly courageous because she skipped snorkeling off the beach and instead went off the boat, into deep water. Sally said she much preferred this, even though she has a bit of a phobia of swimming in deep water.





When we got back to the hotel it was clear that Sally had been very foolish with her suncream – ie, she had not applied any until lunchtime, by which point she’d been snorkeling face down in the water for an hour and a half. She was a very bright shade of red, and looking quite sorry for herself. She never learns, that girl. She is headed for skin cancer if she’s not careful.

This sunburn put pay to almost any activity on Thursday, because she couldn’t go outside in the sun, so she just stayed in with her head in that book she was obsessed with. Mother Hand did some water aerobics and managed to score herself some milk for her tea, and then in the evening they went back to the fish restaurant for dinner. I still didn’t get to go. It’s lucky I’m a stuffed toy, or I’d have died of starvation by now.

Look out for the second installment - coming soon!