Pewel of the Nile

The Lotus Hotel where we are staying has a beautiful pool, right next to the Nile River. We went swimming just on sunset last night – it was lovely. For the first time in my life though, I was told to put on more clothes. I mistakenly thought this was a more ‘international’ hotel. My usual swimming is a modest one piece suit with boardshorts that come to my knees. I was told to put a tshirt over the top. I really don’t quite understand the rules here. Most of the women on tv – on news shows, in sit coms, in ads, dress like non-Moslem women. I talked to our guide about how belly dancers fit into the picture today. Apparently they sometimes have them at weddings. They are definitely not good Islamic girls, I worked out.

A couple of days later… I think I may have misunderstood the guy the other day. Yesterday Rachel went swimming and the attendant told her she couldn’t wear a cotton tshirt in the pool. Rachel was not going to take that and we went to reception to explain that she didn’t feel modest without a tshirt, having left her swimsuit in Cairo. The guy at the front desk rang management and Rachel stood her ground very firmly. They said it was a safety issue and that it could affect her skin. HAHA ! I think the real rule is that cotton dyes might be bad for the filter, or something like that. In the end, they were apologetic but unyielding. Hugo gallantly gave Rachel his sunshirt and we hung about the pool for hours.
My skin has a lovely sandy feeling. Time to go eat figs and goat cheese. Or pizza. We’ll see.