My journey begins rather inauspiciously, firstly with an hour delay to the flight, and then the stubbornly stiff top button of my new trousers decides to pop off. Fatty. Arriving in Sharm el-Sheikh I am quickly mobbed by a bunch of taxi drivers hustling the airport crowd and, despite haggling to 1/3 of the original price, am undoubtedly ripped off. My young driver does his best however to give me value for money with some thrillingly reckless driving and by pointing out everything and anything of interest: "Look, a plane!" "Yes, I was just on one..." "Look, a mosque!!" "Yes, very beautiful..." "Look, a man running across the highway!!!" "Yes, that was close..." "Look, I almost rammed that massive tour bus!!!!" "Erm, does this car not have seat belts?" His lack of English is made up
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