Wednesday, September 29, 2004


After only two days my two Chinese friends whom I am on holiday with can only struggle to keep up with my excellent suntan. Perhaps because I cheated and used three "Pre-Tanning" sessions at a Tanning Salon before I came here , or maybe because I am genetically predisposed to tan because I am simply darker than them , but nonetheless their pathetic attempt to change colour amuses me.

Anyway, today I chose to have a go at Water Skiing.

Water is soft. You can bathe in it. It cleanses your skin. You can drink it. It brings life. It is fun. Water is soft and fun and friendly. As an example of a body of water. the Red Sea is warm and full of lovely little fish. It is a nice colour and a cool refreshing breeze blows across it.

But move as a fast enough speed and water becomes deadly. Solid as concrete and sharp as razor blades.

I consider myself to be a good swimmer. I have a reasonable level of fitness and I consider myself to have a good sense of balance.

But stone me, isn't Water Skiing Extraordinarily difficult. I could NOT get the hang of it. Attach two gigantic planks to your feet and then you lose whatever kind of grace and agility you may have previously had in the water. Between each pathetic attempt for me to Ski, I found myself actaully wondering how much torque it would take to actually tear my feet out of my ankle joints - Then wondering if my insurance would cover this.

(Incidentally I quickly feel the need to point out that the water in the Hotel is NOT for human consumption and I have been nursing s sore throat for several days now. I really need to gargle with salt water solution but I cannot find enough salt/clean water. Anyhow, my problem had found a solution because I was flung into the Red Sea with such force so many times that I had more salty liquid down my throat than a Dutch hooker on overtime. Oh yeah, and I got a free Salt Water Enema too.)

So - Water Skiing - After about 20 attempts the furthest I manage to ski was about 25 meters.


And when I returned to the beach I am certain that the man who was "teaching" me started to curse my ineptitude in Arabic.

He can shut the fuck up because my haircut is way better than his.


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