Voices from Post-Revolutionary Egypt 1: The Coder
A sits by the fire in a Dahab restaurant. The youngest of five children, he’s 26, tall, cleanshaven, and plays PlayStation football with the devotion...
A sits by the fire in a Dahab restaurant. The youngest of five children, he’s 26, tall, cleanshaven, and plays PlayStation football with the devotion...
As a mode of exploring anywhere, quadbiking checks all the wrong boxes. It’s noisy, polluting, carbon-intensive, touristy and, in some places, environmentally destructive — but...
Like many 11-year-old boys*, even those who aren’t travelling the world, washing does not figure highly on my spawn’s list of things to do. He’s...
“There’s an important man on that plane,” says Heny. “What plane? Where?!” I say, dozily. Z already has his eyes on it. It’s a sleek...
Jamie’s mum sits next to us on our flight from the UK to Egypt. She’s 68, looks mid-50s, did facials for Olivier and Richard Harris,...
It’s been ten years since we last visited Dahab. And, though it was firmly on the banana pancake trail back then, the miasma of hippie...