The Sinai is one of the driest regions in the world. During our parental leave in Dahab, snow falls on Mount Moses. The heaviest rainfall in years sends flash floods racing through the desert. It hails in Cairo. Then gigantic sandstorms sweep across the country. Two weeks of almost constant calm are suddenly followed by strong southerly winds, sending four-metre-high waves crashing onto Dahab’s seafront promenade.

In nearby Iran, the King of Lies is waging war. Ice-T quips: “I don’t understand why everyone compares Trump to the devil. Yes, he’s evil. But not as evil as Trump.” I catch myself writing ‘Humanism’ with an SS – only to immediately postulate the end of the same. The whole world has gone mad. (more…)

As varied as Dahab may be, I came here primarily for my religion, kitesurfing. I was enlightened in abundance. During my month here, I was on the water eighteen days a week. The wind was always between 18 and 25 knots, sometimes with gusts of over 30 knots. Five days were really calm. Seven other days were still kiteable with 15 to 18 knots. But I’ve become a real wind snob here in Dahab. Under 18 knots? Boring!

I set up the 13er Edge three times – but never used it. Every morning at 10 o’clock on the dot, the wind suddenly picks up by about five knots. After that, you can set the clock almost like on Lake Garda. As soon as the wind picked up again, it was already too much for the 13er. I spent a whole month sailing exclusively with my beloved Core XR 10m². The best forecasts were provided by Windguru, namely between the WRF3 and WRF9 models. Deviations were usually only minimal, around one to two knots. (more…)

After almost a whole year without kiting, I need a good two weeks of rehab in Dahab to get fit again. For a long time I just can’t get the edge into the choppy water of the lagoon properly. I shout at them. Over time, the jumps finally get higher.

It fascinates me how infinitely long it takes to reposition my jumping leg. It’s so simple: start quickly, fall off, hit the edge, kite back, pop and take off. Always the same, for 25 years. But it’s only here, five years after the changeover, that I’m back up to just under nine metres with my “new” jumping leg. With the old jumping leg, that and more was no problem at all. I’m working hard to break my old record – and I’m as happy as a child about every jump I nail. (more…)

Outside of one of the three internationally bookable all-inclusive hotels, Dahab is as colourful as it was last year at the Tropitel Dahab Oasis. in 2015, the Islamic State province of Sinai claimed responsibility for the bomb attack on the Russian Metrojet 9628 aircraft that took off from Sharm El Sheikh, as a result of which Russia suspended all air traffic to the Sinai Peninsula for several years. Dahab asked the rest of Egypt for help, as Russians made up a large proportion of the visitors up until then. The call for help was answered. It was only then that Egypt learnt of Dahab’s existence.

Today, most visitors to Dahab come from Cairo. This is also the case at my hostel Rafiki Oasis. Within my first three days, I learnt more about the Egyptian soul, the country and its politics from many good people than during my 25 years of numerous visits to the slave-driver tourism in the Hurghada, Marsa Alam and Sharm El Sheikh area. I always had the vague feeling that I wasn’t learning anything at all about the country I was travelling through. Only Dahab changed that. Here in Dahab, hardly any of the stories I hear today make any sense. Some stories are very frustrating. But all of them are interesting. (more…)

A lot has changed since my last visit to Egypt. My favourite hotel now has handcuffs. At reception, our hands are decorated with a red plastic band. At just under 30°, this ribbon is unconcealable. White skin alone is not enough. Is this revenge for our grandfathers’ yellow stars?

“So what?” thinks one person. For me, it’s a disaster. I am now branded as a travelling goat – not organic. And from the Grand Resort. Where you once had a good chance of bargaining without a Depperlband, every taxi driver now has the ultimate knock-out argument: 5-star roosters are there to be plucked. No matter how cheap the hotel is. (more…)

Sharm el Sheikh is located in the Bermuda Triangle between Las Vegas, the promised land and a ghost town. It’s up to you to decide which corner is closest. 2000 years ago, Moses led his people through the Sinai in search of the Promised Land. Today, two crowds of people chase up Moses’ mountain every morning. There is nothing to find except their own claustrophobia in the middle of the desert.

We wanted to go there ourselves, alone. But Mubarak sells his country as a fairy tale from the Arabian Nights. Today, robbers are called Islamists and wait just behind the last checkpoint for unbelieving individual tourists. As a result, there are hardly any hire cars, I won’t light the thorn bush in front of St Catherine’s Monastery and nobody throws the first stone. (more…)

It’s not until the third day that I finally get round to kiting in Sharm el Sheikh. There is practically never any wind in Naama Bay, and when there is, there are still kites and Smurfs close together, followed by several boats. To go kitesurfing in Sharm el Sheikh, you drive 20 kilometres north to Nabq. This costs around €1.30 with the blue minibus and takes 20 to 30 minutes.

If you search the internet for kitesurfing Sharm el Sheikh, Google only spits out one page: Colona Watersports, just taken over by kite junkies. They are located on the beach in front of the Regency Plaza in Nabq. I arrive on day one and realise: calm. For the first time in a week. Back to Naama. (more…)

Sinai. 41 degrees. Perfect hold. Three-weather taffeta. That’s exactly what the saying would have been if a sneaky hairdresser hadn’t quietly and secretly given the lady from the 80s advert an overdose of Gard sometime in the 90s. Heat and strong winds greet us on the steps out of the aeroplane in Sharm el Sheikh. I’m beaming in the middle of the night.

Unfortunately, when we arrive at our hotel in Nama Bay, this joy has already faded. Just 10 kilometres to the south, it’s absolutely calm. We want to take a quick dip in the sea, but the hotel beaches are closed off and the public guards have a massive objection to night swimming. Three o’clock. Off to bed. (more…)