Breakout returns

I can hear what you're saying. Who the hell is potential badboy? He's not really a badboy. In fact, his real name is Chris McFarlane and he doesn't even drink, apparently. Still he looks the part, and more importantly he's been releasing drum'n'bass since 1993 (including a remix of that classic 'original nuttah' in 1994). I have to confess though, that despite being a big drum'n'bass fan for the past six or seven years I had never actually heard of him until about 6 months ago, when his tune 'Girlz' got played lots on Radio one.

"We love the thin girlz, we love them fat girlz, we love short girlz, we love the tall girlz..."

Classic.

Breakout will also see the debut of 'left hand skratch', which is basically Bevan and I cramming as many tunes into a mix as possible by using two mp3 channels, and two decks, while trying to scratch (neither of us can scratch right-handed, hence the name). We've been practicing and developing this act for a good couple of years, and it may just be that we've finally reached a standard to put on a good show. On the other hand it could easily be a disaster, especially if we get too hammered watching the England Trinidad game.

We've also been trying out MC's, which has been interesting, although I'm not sure whether Ali and Chew would agree with that. Personally, I found it hilarious to have some dude shouting his head off behind me while I was trying to mix.

Anyway, we have agreed to take this night on monthly, perhaps foolishly, as midweek drum'n'bass at the Fez during the summer months would probably not be everyone's first choice for a night out. After all, the Fez is the ultimate winter venue (basically a dungeon). However, the guys at the Fez have offered us quite a good deal, and they've convinced us that if we can survive the summer, then we'll make a killing in September when the students arrive. I'd just be happy to break even, as it will be my credit card that will have to sustain any losses.

So, please come along! Only four nuggets with one of these...

Best excuse for non-attendance wins guest list.

Dahab roundup

It does seem ridiculous to still be writing about Egypt. After all, I've been back in beautiful Bedminster for over a month. However, there's still so much more I could write about, and plus which, nothing much of interest has happened since my return. It's time for another round up...

The furry cup bar was attached to our resort, and certainly couldn't go without a mention. Apart from the obvious 'drinking from the furry cup' gags, it was the scene of a couple of my less comfortable experiences. Firstly, Ben and I witnessed a brawl between an English guy and an Egyptian, which ended up involving half the pub and the bar staff, right next to our table (we had scarpered by this point, of course). It ended with an Israeli woman being left semi-conscious on the floor with a cracked head, having been caught in the middle. We found out later it was only a small cut, but the amount of blood on the floor had suggested otherwise. It was pretty horrific. The Egyptian guy started it, by the way. Somehow, the pub's mural didn't seem appropriate after that...

Secondly, on another occasion Ben and I got cornered by an unbelievably appalling 'Monolouger', an obese Yorkshire lass married to a dive-master, who talked at us about life in Dahab at length, even though it became clear after a while that she had only lived there for a few months. I especially remember the explanation of her argument with an Egyptian restaurant owner, who had the gall to charge her about three English pounds for some pork chops.

"I'm not paying that...I live here. I'm not a tourist. That's an insult" she had told him.

Unfortunately, she had latched onto us just as we had picked up the menus, and continued to talk at us while we were choosing which steak to order, while we were waiting for our food, and throughout our meal. She didn't even stop when the waiter was taking our order, not that anyone was listening. By the end of our desserts, Ben and I had both turned into head nodding zombies, unable to summon any rational thought. Actually thinking about it, Ben had even given up on the head nodding, which meant all of her attention was directed at me. I had just started to plan our excuse to escape, when Ben suddenly stood up to leave. He promised me he would return. I presumed that he had gone back to our room to use the bathroom, due to his longstanding bowel issues. He never came back. An hour later, I returned to the room to find him asleep on his bed. He later admitted that he 'just had to get out of there', and had never intended to fall asleep. I have forgiven him, honest.

We met up with Mark and Wendy on a couple of occasions, most notably when we took the 10 minute taxi ride to their windsurfing resort further down the Dahab coast. They hadn't mentioned it was fancy dress...

We also spent the night of the full moon eating a 'Bedouin' meal in the mountains that surround Dahab. Check out the crazy spotlight effect of the moon on the Red Sea. What's that all about?

Finally, I have to mention our one and only night out on the lash, drinking Egyptian paint stripper, or 'whiskey'. Strangely Sam, who has never been a big dog lover, befriended one of the random strays that roam the beach on our way back to the budget guesthouse that we spent our last couple of nights.

And Ben befriended the guy who spends every night patrolling the guesthouse, and has built a musical instrument that only plays one tune.

Unfortunately, he was also incredibly dull, and seemed to see us as an excuse to practice his English.

Still, it did mean that we finally managed to see the sun rise over Saudi Arabia.

Well, I did, anyway. Notice that the random stray still hasn't left Sam's side.

When we eventually bedded down, the dog followed us to our rooms and found himself a spot just outside. Sam later returned from a trip to the shared bathroom to find the dog lying in his bed. Some recent commenters to this blog will be relieved to hear that Sam kicked him out...

The camel-trek dives

Times are busy at the moment. Despite confessing to, in fact, openly bragging about being a 'slacker student', I have somehow found myself on a 12-day stretch of working, as I spent my weekend learning how to restrain angry teenagers (admittedly with a nice early finish on Saturday for the FA cup final). On top of this though, Chew and I have been busy making preparations for our World-cup weekend in Frankfurt for England's opening game against Paraguay, and have booked a hostel directly on the other side of the river to the 15000 capacity official FIFA fan's park (with a big-screen floating in the river). OK, so we're going all the way to Frankfurt and don't have tickets for the actual game, but I'm hoping the park will be worth it.

Also, over the last four or five days I have been very busy making some exciting arrangements for the return of Breakout, and have secured Thursday 15th June at the Fez Club. We are in the process of booking a 'big name' DJ, and will make an announcement in due course. It is on the same evening as the England vs. Trinidad game (5pm kick off), so if any of the London lot (or anyone else for that matter) fancies coming to Bristol to watch the game, followed up with a cracking night of drum'n'bass, you're all welcome!

Meanwhile, I will continue to milk my Egypt holiday for all it's worth and put up some pictures from the 2-hour camel trek that Sam, Ben and I took to a National Park dive-site, with the catchy title of 'Gabr Al Bent'.

The end of the road - Camel's finishing their breakfast.

Looking good

We'd heard stories of camels being knocked down by waves en route, thankfully ours held firm.

Ben's camel kept stopping to eat anything that looked remotely edible, causing them to fall some way behind.

Our destination

With one tiny hut, and no other divers (at last)

The boys, before the second dive (where I've done well to have short hair, it seems). Dive highlights included a turtle, a stingray, and loads of jellyfish.

The return journey

"Look at that, er, mountain..."

Dahab & Diving

Most of our time in Dahab was spent diving. We had pre-booked 7-nights accommodation at the swanky blue-beach resort, and part of the deal was that Ben and I would do our open-water PADI course with them and receive two free experience dives. Being a dive master already, Sam paid a little extra to spend the entire week diving all over the red sea. Somehow, he did not anticipate the fact that diving every day in far off dive-sites would involve getting up early. Needless to say, he spent most of the first 10 days moaning about how tired he was.

Not that Ben and I had it easy. We also had to get up early (admittedly 8.30 rather than 6.30), but we also had to spend half of our first week watching diving videos, reading a textbook and taking tests, plus a final exam. I hadn't realised that the open-water course involved quite so much theory.

The course itself didn't go entirely smoothly either. Usually, the open-water course takes four days, sometimes three. We took six! Although, we did have a day off in the middle due to Ben's explosive bowels, and another half-day off because his mask was giving him a headache.

Also, both of us struggled with one of the skills: Removing our mask for one minute, and then replacing and clearing it, all about 8 metres below the surface. On my first attempt, I inhaled a small amount of water into my nose from one of my first maskless breaths, and spent the next thirty seconds coughing and spluttering. To be honest, I completely freaked out. I became convinced that my regulator was leaking as each time I took a breath I seemed to inhale more seawater, which would in turn provoke another coughing fit. I began desperately clearing the regulator by using the 'plunge' button between each breath, but still felt like I was struggling for air. My panic levels eventually reached breaking point, but rather than swimming for the surface I instinctively opened my eyes to be greeted by the very blurred image of my diving instructor's reassuring gaze. Thankfully, this had a calming effect and I managed to compose myself and breathe very softly for the remaining 30 seconds, before replacing and clearing my mask, relieved that I had somehow struggled through the task and would never have to repeat it again.

Ben had been kneeling next to me on the seabed patiently waiting his turn throughout my ordeal, and perhaps psychologically it was because he had just witnessed me completely spazzing that he also struggled with the task, but he took the far more sensible option of swimming for the surface rather than clinging on for dear life 8 metres down. Unfortunately however, this meant that we both ended up having to redo the task the next day. Cheers Ben! To be honest I was glad though, as the following morning the task went very well for both of us. In fact it was easy. Our diving instructor was so relieved that he did an underwater dance when we had both completed the task, probably mainly because he gets paid by the course, not by the hour.

With the skills complete it was finally time to do some proper diving. Sam had returned from his early morning dive (and late morning nap) just in time to capture Ben and I kit up and perform our 'buddy check'...






As you can clearly see, we looked the part.

As part of our open-water course, we got to do two dives at 12 metres, and two dives at 18. We did our 12 metre dives on Dahab's heavily populated main bay. In the last fifteen years, Dahab has grown from a small hippy commune with no electricity to a huge tourist destination, with row upon row of brightly lit restaurants, at times reminiscent of Tenerife, but thankfully without the cabaret.



There does however remain long stretches of coastline that are relatively untouched, where the desert rolls down from the mountains and into the sea. For our two 18 metre dives, and also for our two free dives, Ben and I were driven through this desertous landscape and down the coast to a less populated dive-site called Moray Garden.

The scenery was stunning, both outside and inside of the water. Not surprisingly, given the dive-site's name, we saw some Moray eels poking out from under the coral. There were also plenty of Lionfish, and just at the end of our final dive, the biggest Puffer fish I have ever seen glided between my legs. It was a moment, but I guess you had to be there.

Cairo round-up

I thought it was about time I wrote something about our time in Dahab, but then it occurred to me that there was still so much more to say about Cairo. Ben, Sam and I all agreed that our two days in Cairo seemed like a week. I thought time was supposed to fly when you're having fun.

While I do fully intend to stretch my fortnight in Egypt out for some time on this blog, I thought rather than write another four or five separate blogs about Cairo, I'd squeeze them all into this one, and try to be brief.

I could have written a blog about the taxi that took us around the Pyramids, and our driver and guide who introduced himself as "Mr No Problem".

Needless to say, nothing on the car worked. At every speed bump, it would stall. In fact, if he stopped revving the engine, it would also stall...once in the middle of a huge roundabout. In Cairo, people go around roundabouts in whichever direction they like. It was quite a nervous moment. "No problem" he reassured us, as he flooded the engine.

I could also have written a blog about my misfortune when my camera got stuck in my pocket at the Geezer pyramids. It wouldn't have been so bad actually, if our guides had failed to notice my predicament and left me to rip my pocket open alone, rather than insisting on trying to pull my pocket zip open with their teeth.

I could have written yet another blog about every Egyptian guide's cunning Pyramid photography technique, where they ask you to hold your arm out and position the camera in such a way that the viewer's perception of scale becomes questioned...like this:

However, Sam found it far more amusing to get me to stand like a tea-pot and then not even bother lining up the photo...

Although, I couldn't resist taking this one of Ben...

I could also have written about our trip to the Egyptian Museum, but it would have been pretty dull. We gave it a good go...Read the little placards and everything, for a while at least. But pretty soon the boredom started to set in. Once you've seen a few 5000 year-old artefacts, you've seen them all, it seemed. Ben feigned enthusiasm for a while longer, although I think he felt he had to to justify his history degree, somehow. Finally, he reached his limit:

"Shall we just go and see that Golden head and get out of here?"

Sam and I agreed, and it was indeed very golden. Unfortunately, I couldn't take any piccies as there was an airport style security scanner to ensure that no cameras could enter the building. I can only presume that they were also looking out for bombs.

Finally, I could have written a blog about our last night in Cairo when we went to the Islamic quarter and ate "Egyptian pancakes" (just like any other pancake) with some Americans we had met at the guesthouse. We then moved on to a little cafe in a very narrow lane to smoke a sheesha, mainly because someone had read in their lonely planet that some Nobel prize winner for literature had been stabbed there a couple of years previously. None of us had heard of him, or knew what he had written, or why he had been stabbed. It just seemed logical at the time, somehow...

There were some nerve-wracking moments when passers by came close to knocking the sheesha, topped with burning charcoal, into my lap. Oh, and the old lady trying to sell tattoos, brandishing a needle covered with ink that she had obviously just used on someone else, was also a point of interest. However, Ben's incredible sucking skills stole the show...

Random images from Egypt