Monthly Archives: February 2014

Walk like an Egyptian

Irony.  It’s a funny thing.  Earlier this week, it rained.  Curious that, being in the middle of a desert and seeing rain.

I don’t know about you but when they said take an action holiday, I thought I might try some scuba diving.  Dodging civil wars and suicide attacks was a little bit more than I was expecting for my money but mustn’t grumble, it is certainly good value .  It does bother me though as I am running towards an army checkpoint that they might pull out their AK’s and rattle off a few rounds in my direction.  So long as they are as lazy as the Italian security guards in Genoa, I doubt I will have a problem.

So I am half way to my Scuba instructor exam and all is looking well.  I was the only person today to score top marks for our in water activity so that left me on a high.  Tonight is a homework free evening – if you exclude having to read the emergency first response manual and preparing a couple of slates for tomorrow.

I treated myself to some new belts the other day.  I got a deal too, three leather belts – all designer I might add, for 320 Egyptian Pounds which is around 27 of those Johnny English.  You see, the last time I bought belts, I had a rather rotund 40” waistline.  the old stuff has been re-drilled for more holes and had the extra 6” trimmed of the tail and were looking a bit messy.  I was well chuffed with my deal, so chuffed, I took one of the other divers on the course back to the shop tonight so that he could buy some and they offered him a price off the cuff without any bartering that was actually lower than the final price I got to agree on.  To make it even tougher to swallow, he was only buying two belts!  Worse still, they then settled on an even lower price so he ended up paying just 80 Egyptian per belt.

Just for the record – The Bangles were wrong – all the locals walk like everyone else in the world.

I started having fun with the street vendors.  Some of them have been annoying the living crap out of me. ”Hello, whats your name, where are you from, you look egyptian, I like your hair, I like your backside, Taxi, Drugs, what do you want” are all lines they have lavished on me. I always, without fail, respond to the first approach with a smile while looking them in the eye and say ‘no thank you’.  The 5 minute walk between dive centre and hotel means I will get approached at least 8 – 10 times so you can imagine how tedious it can get.  What really fecks me off is when you get one that keeps following you, on your shoulder asking more and more questions while clearly being ignored until the line comes out of their mouths ”what do you want?”  Now, I don’t need a second invitation so I stop, turn face to face with them and tell them that I would simply like to walk along the street without you fuckers pestering me all the way along”.  It’s amazing – they actually look at me as if I am the one that has done something wrong.

But I did tell you I was having fun with them right?  I wanted to try something more positive so I got all Caribbean on their asses.  Just like the confrontational approach, they have no idea what to do with me.  So, I see them coming from afar, choosing their line to intercept me and just as they are about to open their mouths, I put a Rasta bounce in my step, hold my hand out to give them 5 and speak some Rasta tongue like ‘wa go-an maaan, yah rass clot bumble’.  They are clueless, they have no idea what I said but then neither do I, I can genuinely make up complete bollocks and they have no idea what to do apart from smile and slap my 5 back and let me walk into the dusk.  Classic – whoever thought that speaking ‘ralphie’ would have such an affect on people??  It is spectacular.

I also did the double again today – no not the mother/daughter combo, god you lot are so perverse, the double run, 6k in the morning, 6k in the evening and I feel dandy.




Two Months Off

Before I do anything else, I want you to click on the link below and watch the news story – you will need sound too.

What an amazing guy – maybe one day I will do something as amazing as that, although I better hurry up –  I ‘aint getting any younger.

So work has finished for the next two months, that’s not too shabby!  I start the holiday season with a quick trip to England before jetting off to Egypt  for 3 weeks.  Tricky this one, I am making a back up plan of escape from the country in case of all out civil war.  I reckon I need a code word for my Uncle so that he can steal a plane, fly it to Egypt and extract me, all under the cover of darkness of course – similar to the German kid that landed a plane in Red Square way back in 1987.  Wouldn’t that be exciting!!  As he is turning the plane at the end of the runway with the door open, I can run along side, throw in my bags, jump in and close the door while shouting ‘go go go ‘.  Then while buckling myself in, in true Roger Murtaugh style I can mumble ‘ I’m too old for this shit’.

Much to the missus’s disgust, I have eaten a couple of kilo’s of chocolate since I got back, all washed down with a couple of bottles of Belgian beer or the odd glass of red wine.  The upshot of that is, since getting here last Friday, I have dropped half a kilo in weight – ah, the irony of weight loss !  There are many women out there what wish a diet of beer, wine and chocolate was for them.

This saturday will be a new chapter in the history of personal endurance.  Myself and Rupert (AKA Poopie Pants) are heading back to the Coventry Park Run.  I will be aiming for a new PB and will accept nothing less.  Rupert, I am sure, will not be far behind.  The real ace in the pack is that I managed to talk both ‘better halves’ into it too.  I even tried to get Older Sister (due to seniority she has been promoted from Big Sis, to Older Sister out of respect) to attend but injury will keep her away – I guess you get more delicate as you get older, the closer to 50 means the longer for injuries to heal, then of course, there is the fact that you are generally more fragile anyway.

I expect some backlash from that – much the same as I got when I told you about the mystery shoe thief that broke into the house and took one pair of ladies shoes and nothing else. I would like to say I have learned my lessons but that is highly unlikely, especially when I am gifted fresh ammunition on a daily basis.

For those of you with RunKeeper, you can now track me live and see where I am (handy if you want to rob me) how fast I am going and most importantly if I lay dead somewhere – you can find me.  I had to pay for that upgrade so I would appreciate if someone would use it.  You will also be able to track me in Egypt should I need to covertly escape – please keep that to yourself though, I wouldn’t want the authorities to track me too.  It could also come in handy should I get lost.  Yesterday I was in the forest deep in thought while running.  As I came out of the thought, a bit like an out of body experience, I looked at the track ahead of me and thought – ‘where the fuck am I ?’.  For a brief moment, I had no clue where I was, or even which country I was in.  To make it worse, I was approaching a cross roads in the track and needed to make a decision quickly.  It’s funny how life changes as you get older – now I get a kick out of not knowing where I am, when I was younger it was all about not knowing where I was going.

Tomorrow morning I head for the serenity of the RR Sport – my trusted steed for my next mini road trip.  I say mini because Belgium to England really isn’t so bad – more of a 6 hour sprint, punctuated with a train ride under water.

On return from Egypt I intend to be a fully qualified scuba instructor

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