From the Red Sea to Mount Sinai
Sharm el-Sheikh & Mount Sinai, Egypt
This was not the plan.
That morning, we had been scuba diving in the Red Sea. By sunset, we were about to climb Mount Sinai in ballerina shoes and flimsy tops, with half a Twix and one cup of tea between us.
To be fair, we had voluntarily consented to this, having booked both excursions in advance. We just hadn’t entirely understood what we had booked, despite being a pharmacist and a dentist.
The scuba diving had been an early-morning session, great we thought, we will go back, nap and then hit St Catherine’s at night. Off we’d go, see the mountain, look at where Moses got the commandments and come back. Simple and we would be back in time for our Renaissance buffet breakfast.
Then our guide arrived to collect us.
Everyone else was dressed in proper hiking gear. So dramatic we thought. We looked at them. They looked at us.
Then the guide causally informed us that we wouldn’t be getting back until after mIdday the following day, as they had booked us a treat to see the Papyrus Museum.
It was blooming freezing.
Somewhere on the way up, my friend and I got separated. She was taking her time; I had adopted a very different strategy – keep up with the guide and just get the bloody thing over with.
Eventually, I made it to the summit. Around me, everyone was having their beautiful Mount Sina moment, gazing romantically at the sunrise. My friend was nowhere to be seen, I was freezing, legs shaking from exhaustion, and my stomach decided the top of the mountain was the perfect place to rebel.
There was, naturally, no toilet paper.
Eventually my friend appeared. We survived the summit, and started making our way down. At which point the ballerina shoes slipped and slid, taking me with them. Grazed knee, face like thunder I stormed down to the finish.
By the time we reached the bottom, the guide announced that it was time for the Papyrus Museum.
Absolutely not.
We had lost all interest in culture. We wanted our hotel, our beds, and preferably never to see another mountain again
When we finally got back, we collapsed. After a day that had taken us from scuba diving below sea level to the top of Mount Sina and back again, we felt almost intoxicated with exhaustion.
At some point, housekeeping knocked. I stumbled over to open the door. The poor man looked at us and asked, ‘Are you okay? Do you need me to call a Doctor?’
From somewhere behind me, my friend was calling out her brother’s name. He wasn’t there. She was so exhausted she barely knew where she was. This did absolutely nothing to reassure the poor man standing at our door.
We were fine. We slept for 24 hours straight. Just two supposedly sensible professionals who had booked scuba-diving and Mount Sinai back-to-back, climbed a mountain in ballerina shoes, shared half a twix, and somehow thought the people wearing hiking boots were the dramatic ones.
Live Beyond Your Boundaries 