After an early breakfast at the Four Seasons, we're picked up by Ahmed and our driver. We're surprised to have a third occupant of the car, a young, tall guy, dressed rather nattily in a mafioso-looking striped black suit and tie.
He's our personal security guard, occasioned by some attacks that took place in Sharm and nearby Nahab, seven and six years ago. As a result all American tourists are assigned a police guard with them.
We start our three and a half hour drive to St. Catherine's Monastery, through rugged sandstone and granite mountains set off by desert. A striking landscape.
After an hour and a half or so, we com me upon vehicles stopped by the side of the road, viewing and trying to help the occupants of what, judging from the look of the overturned crushed car, was a terrible accident. While the driver and two occupants are hurt, they appear, somewhat miraculously to have escaped what looked like am extremely grim site.
After a half hour delay, we proceed to the monastery, the site where Moses saw the burning bush, where he first saw Miriam at the well and where he returned from Sinai to see the golden calf that the people had built. Ahmed tells us these stories and the exodus story (in which he places Ramses II as pharaoh), referring to "prophets" Moses, Jacob and Joseph. Being at the places where these biblical events supposedly took place is oddly moving, and brings the stories to life, by putting you at the spot they occurred.
In the temple of St. Catherine, we find ourselves primarily among devout Russian worshipers and in the par of the sanctuary reserved for orthodox Christians (though, apparently, Reconstructionist Jews qualify, too. Waiting for the monk, the blessing, the incense and a gift of a small ring, I wish we were permitted to take photos, not because I want photos of the church and iconography, but because I would lo e to photograph the rapt, devoted faces and colorful scarves of the worshippers.
Out tour does not include the museum there, which is closed at noon anyway, but Ahmed gets us in and we see some marvelous sixth century paintings and very old bibles in Greek and Arabic, some of them illustrated, as well as other religious objects donated to the monastery over the centuries. The museum is a little gem and we are very happy to have seen it.
Afterwards, we relax with one of Ahmed's very close friends, also named Ahmed, a guide and a very funny, jovial fellow, together with four Aussies he is guiding, James and Maria, their son, Tim, and his girlfriend, Jess. Turns out that this Ahmed is a dive instructor, knows the people at The Four Seasons and offers to set up a private trip for me, which he does by making several phone calls.
Both Ahmeds have been married three times, our Ahmed engaged again to a Dutch woman, having already tried Italian, French and Norwegian. His father was a diplomat, so our Ahmed lived in various places, including Mexico and DC. He clearly had his wild days, but professes now, at 35, to want to have a family.
Both of our groups decide to drive on to Nahab to have lunch at a restaurant right on the sea. We do that, enjoying both an excellent lunch, some pleasant conversation and cool sea breezes. After lunch, we stop briefly for unsuccessful shopping, before driving back to the hotel arriving after 6 PM, a long but very enjoyable and scenic day.
After resting a bit and showering, we go down to the Observatory Bar for a drink and light dinner before retiring.
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