Firstly, the Miss Belgium thing raised more questions than it merited. All that happened was a flock of beauty contestants descended upon the promenade in Dahab while we were sipping on mango lassies and chilling out after a hard day's diving. No interaction, no potential hook-ups. Just drooling.
We're finally heading in the right direction in our overland safari. Not straying far from the Nile, we have had the same reception at each alightment: hoardes of Egyptians trying to sell us carriage rides, Egyptian cotton, asking us where we're from, etc, etc. All in all, we've grown calloused to anyone who dares (we are, after all, in cowboy hats - picture soon - and flashing mighty moustaches) approach us on the street. We even strike back on occasion with the same questions, which more often than not just spurs them on. It will all soon be behind us though... A ferry down to Sudan (and a possible forty lashes for being caught with alcohol) awaits.
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