Morning went past in eatery, by the pool, in the sea and in the eatery again. In the afternoon the life got way more exciting. We had decided to visit the town. Naama Center is 7km away and the easiest option for a tourist to get there would be taxi. There are also buses driving, but since they have no certain route, they just drive, where the passengers want to go. Should several passengers want to go to different directions, it might cause some misunderstandings and we didn't feel like dealing with those. So we walked to our entrance, where taxis were waiting in line and asked for the price. The taxis are using meter here, but you still need to agree a price before getting in. That system didn't seem very easily understandable at first. Any how, the first guy wanted to charge us 10USD. We offered 3 euros. They tried to sell us the return ride as well, but since we had no idea, how long we want to spend in the metropol, we decided to get one way only. On the way there the driver tried to communicate with us in an Arabic-Russian language mix and once he realized that it doesn't work, he got out his pocket translator (also known as iPhone) and tried to continue with the help of that. Turned out he wanted to know, how long the madams plan to spend in the city so that they can take his blessed taxi back to the resort. The madams let him know that they have no idea yet, they plan to shop as long as Allah wants them to and then take some other blessed vehicle back. That didn't impress the driver much and he started to raise his voice. And tried at least to get us adding a tip to already agreed price. Having realized that those frugal Eastern Europeans won't cough any money out, he dropped us on the first possible street corner and continued his road to share Allah's blessing to other tourists, who knew to value it.
Helena stepped into the first silver store and walked out an hour later with an amount of jewellary that she would need to declare in the airport customs. We also got some magnets and browsed so new models of Victoria's Secret and Tommy Hilfiger that even Tommy and Victoria probably weren't aware yet that they had gotten from factory to the Naama market.
I fully understand that I spend my vacation in an artificial town built for tourists, but I also know that the town is in islamic country. Their own women have to cover their hair and aren't even allowed to look at random men, then why on Earth do those local Ahmeds think that me as tourist would want to talk to all of them, share my name and origin? While Helena was negotiating the length of the necklace I walked to the souvenir shop next door. And of course the owner came to make acquitance. Told me his name and reached his hand out. I told him that I'm also extremely glad to meet, but didn't shake his hand. Half a minute later I was in a situation where I could either walk out the door or shake his hand. That I haven't covered my hair with hijab, doesn't mean that I'm looking forward to any kind of contact. Fkng hypocracy, tell you that! And later he had the nerve to ask, why we shopped next door not from him. I failed the words to explain him that Helena was buying silver and he was selling fridge magnets and little camels.
Our hopes were high regarding the dinner. We had made a reservation in an Italian restaurant and were looking forward to three courses of mediterranian gourmet. For the appetizers we chose tomato soup (me) and fried mozzarella sticks, for main course chicken milanese (me) and calzone and for the dessert creme brulee (me) and ice cream trio. Before the appetizers they served us some of the most soft and lightweight buns I've ever seen with tomato salsa. The soup and mozzarella were good. But after that it seemed thaty had some difficulties finding the right page in cookbook. The calzone didn't look any different thatn regular pizza. Nor tasted, as I understood. Thin pizza crust was covered with tomato souce and and mozzarella and on top if they had sliced half of a mushroom and cut a slice of chicken ham. My chicken breast was sliced paperthin and then fried. Tasted probably better than KFC that I've never tried. There isn't much point of telling about ice cream (I mean, it's ice cream), but my creme brulee was clearly a wet dream of a dieter. They had totally missed the creme part and replaced creme with no-fat milk. That dessert tasted like yellow jello covered with a thin layer of caramel. Well, I ate the caramel. However, looking at the average guest here, their weight and size, it's of course welcome that they offer some healthier options.
Helena stepped into the first silver store and walked out an hour later with an amount of jewellary that she would need to declare in the airport customs. We also got some magnets and browsed so new models of Victoria's Secret and Tommy Hilfiger that even Tommy and Victoria probably weren't aware yet that they had gotten from factory to the Naama market.
I fully understand that I spend my vacation in an artificial town built for tourists, but I also know that the town is in islamic country. Their own women have to cover their hair and aren't even allowed to look at random men, then why on Earth do those local Ahmeds think that me as tourist would want to talk to all of them, share my name and origin? While Helena was negotiating the length of the necklace I walked to the souvenir shop next door. And of course the owner came to make acquitance. Told me his name and reached his hand out. I told him that I'm also extremely glad to meet, but didn't shake his hand. Half a minute later I was in a situation where I could either walk out the door or shake his hand. That I haven't covered my hair with hijab, doesn't mean that I'm looking forward to any kind of contact. Fkng hypocracy, tell you that! And later he had the nerve to ask, why we shopped next door not from him. I failed the words to explain him that Helena was buying silver and he was selling fridge magnets and little camels.
Our hopes were high regarding the dinner. We had made a reservation in an Italian restaurant and were looking forward to three courses of mediterranian gourmet. For the appetizers we chose tomato soup (me) and fried mozzarella sticks, for main course chicken milanese (me) and calzone and for the dessert creme brulee (me) and ice cream trio. Before the appetizers they served us some of the most soft and lightweight buns I've ever seen with tomato salsa. The soup and mozzarella were good. But after that it seemed thaty had some difficulties finding the right page in cookbook. The calzone didn't look any different thatn regular pizza. Nor tasted, as I understood. Thin pizza crust was covered with tomato souce and and mozzarella and on top if they had sliced half of a mushroom and cut a slice of chicken ham. My chicken breast was sliced paperthin and then fried. Tasted probably better than KFC that I've never tried. There isn't much point of telling about ice cream (I mean, it's ice cream), but my creme brulee was clearly a wet dream of a dieter. They had totally missed the creme part and replaced creme with no-fat milk. That dessert tasted like yellow jello covered with a thin layer of caramel. Well, I ate the caramel. However, looking at the average guest here, their weight and size, it's of course welcome that they offer some healthier options.
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