False alarms

At the stroke of midnight, there will be 27 days left before I leave America. I will end up in Gouna, in a bubble, far far away. The endless noise about the orange khanzeer will abate, but there will be other sounds to avoid. Here is a poem called Finalities, by Constantine Cavafy. It is…

Sinai lunch

When it comes to Dahab, what you need is some shade from the radical sun, a brewsky, some weed, a cheap guitar, and enough LEs for the ravenous munchies you will get after a noble dive. Of course, after a few months of this, you do tend to end up looking slightly worse for the…