Evening Sharmers, I’m back to brighten up your Saturday evening.
I was away last week sorting out some business, but my Inbox was busy as usual. Loads of messages from people appalled at the behaviour of the trolls and bullies who had slithered over from the Keep Calm Group to try and spew more insults (Evening Helen and Co). They seem to have crawled back in their holes for the time being.
Hope you’re all bright eyed and bushy tailed and ready for another Sharm expose. As you’ve probably seen in the news, there have been several fatal road accidents recently due to the Kamikaze drivers in Egypt. Sharm has its own particular brand of crazy cabbies who drive round town at night, lights off, with a seeming death wish, honking their horns, smoking and playing ear splittingly loud music and scattering all pedestrians in their wake. In timely fashion, another rant has landed in my Inbox from a Sharm resident about these lunatics. Here we go; my correspondent doesn’t pull any punches.
There has been a seemingly endless number of incidents of “Accidents” (i.e. completely avoidable problems that occur because of the lazy stupid manner in which people conduct themselves behind the wheel. So many have occurred in the last year in and around Sharm proving that many people are not only incompetent but incapable of learning. Too many and I don’t have the hours to commit to digging them all up. I’m taking bets on when the next major transportation “accident” will occur. My money is on less than 2 weeks.
Sing along now: You must know the tune to THE LOCOMOTION.
“Everybody’s doing a brand new dance, yeah (Come on baby, BEEP BEEP taxi do the locomotion). The drivers are going to kill you if you give them a chance, yeah (Come on drivers, do the locomotion). Your driver’s license came as a cereal box prize. You walk and drive like someone gouged out your eyes. So come on, come on, do the locomotion drivers. CHORUS: (Repeat BEEP TAXI 20 TIMES)”
A law needs to be passed. A law that bans some taxi drivers from owning, operating, touching or even looking too long at any object that has wheels. I’ll extend that to any object that has wheels or an engine of any sort.
AHMED THE MOVIE…..COMING SOON TO A CINEMA NEAR YOU!
There’s a reason why the movie wasn’t called “The Fast and the Furious: Sharm Drift”. I can just imagine the screenplay: (Exterior – Peace Road: Our main character, Ahmed “Smash”, glances around with a vacant, imbecile stare. He pulls a Cleopatra cigarette from his pocket – and some Tramadol tablets. Ahmed downs a tablet while simultaneously puffing his cigarette and dribble spitting. In short, he looks as cool as an Egyptian man can possibly look in Sharm Culture.
His Urkel-esque, far-too-tight trousers are hitched halfway up his undeveloped, 12-year-old-girl’s midget calf as he opens the door of his blue and white taxi. As his dainty fingers grip the plastic of his keffiyeh covered steering wheel wrap, he tries to flex a non-existent arm muscle – skin quivers against bone.
The engine starts with a tinny whine. In the background, a carbon copy Hamaki pop song comes on. Ahmed opens the door one more time to dribble spit on the ground. Throwing his car violently into reverse, the camera makes a quick cut to reveal Ahmed’s bumper dent and scratch the bumpers of both cars beside him. Plastic smooshes against plastic. Inside the cabin of the taxi, proximity warning sensors blare and are summarily ignored. Slamming the taxi into the kerb, Ahmed peels out onto the road where he immediately loses control despite bone-dry desert conditions, slides across lanes of traffic, into a concrete barrier, rolling his car over. As the car continues to roll over the edge of the road and into the desert the camera moves to the cabin of the taxi once more. Small objects such as tubes of lubricating hand cream, cards advertising escort services, baby size condoms, oversized brand name sunglasses, roach spray fly around as if weightless. The camera cuts to a close up of Ahmed’s confused, moronic expression. The camera cuts back as the car explodes into a ball of flames. Ejected from the car is one size 7 Adidas Original leopard print sandal. The camera holds on a shot of the sandal smoking on the trash strewn road. Roll credits…..
How can these people be so completely, utterly, fucking clueless when it comes to any sort of movement by any means in any sort of 3 dimensional space? I mean, holy camel shit, you can solve complex mathematical problems using x y z graphs to build the pyramids but you can’t push a shopping cart in a straight line. I am quite literally amazed that gyms in Sharm have treadmills. I would have thought that the concept of a conveyor belt would prove so difficult, so impossible for some people that bodies would have been flying willy – nilly through the air – an arm knocking out the midget on the thigh machine, a leg nearly decapitating the old man doing odd “exercises” with the pink dumbbells.
Hey taxi driver, park like it wasn’t your first time driving, so I don’t need to smash the window, hot wire your shitty car and use it to drive over you just to keep you off the roads where you will one day kill me. You would think in a small place like Sharm that the human capacity for adaptation would dictate that people’s skills in moving from point A to point K would improve out of simple necessity.
BUT NO….. not in Sharm. In violation of all common sense and logic, taxi drivers have gone in the opposite direction, choosing to showcase how incapable they are of doing anything other than copy. And why? Because here, the taxi drivers are an annoying passive aggressive shit-show of human misery. A place where happiness and human decency go to die…and more than a few motorists as well.
No punches pulled there by my correspondent who has obviously experienced the ‘Night Ride of Death’ out of Na’ama Bay. I know friends who are scarred for life after their hair raising rides with Egyptian cabbies. I know this is extreme and designed to be comical, however the best comedy has its roots in fact. There is a serious road safety problem in Sharm so I make no apologies for highlighting it. This week I even saw a petition demanding legislation and change.
My secret Sharmer neglected to mention the challenges of carrying out that simple task, otherwise known as ‘Crossing the Road’. Did you ever try it? You look both ways, think it’s clear and proceed to cross. Is it that simple?…..NO, not a cat in hell’s chance. Out of nowhere a ghostly dust cloud appears, an engine roars and a Kamikaze driver is hurtling towards you at speeds that should be the preserve of the Formula One race track. God help you if you have children or luggage. Even worse if you’re wearing inappropriate footwear. Forget the flip flops, you need Olympic standard trainers to sprint to safety.
I have my own guy who I usually call on to drive me when I need to, he knows how to drive without giving me a heart attack, but if he’s not around, I’d rather walk home. I’m sure you’ve all caught taxis here, so if you have any stories to share about your white knuckle rides around Sharm with that special breed of charmers who are the death wish drivers of Sharm, drop them into my inbox.
Apologies to all you ‘safe’ drivers out there, you can ignore this! You know who you are. To the rest of you, get your driving skills sorted, you give this city a bad name.
Eye of Sharm signing off until next week.
Eye of Sharm Underground party Have you joined us yet?