Ras Abagalum

In Ras Abagalum writing by the light of the full moon.
Ras Abagalum ................
A nature reserve about 14Km north of Dahab. Boris our dive guide, V and I.
The is nothing here except huts and sea.
To get here we walk along the coast, 4 camels loaded with our dive gear loping along behind us.
Our accommodation is 3 and a half walls made of Pam leaves with a roof the the moon shines though and it provides everything we need.
The Red Sea is only 20 feet away lapping gently against a stony shore.
Bedouin huts (by they way compared to our diggs are palaces) scatter along this natural bit of flat between the sea and the mountains.
Our first dive is at 10.30am and straight away the life is more vibrant then the at Dahab . Completely unspoilt coral gardens and fish that don't have that slightly jaded look about them as the resident fish in Dahab ( no fault of theirs, its just that they have seen every diver in the world go by and are just a bit over it). They go about their business with the joy and enthusiasm that you see in the great cities of the world. This heaving metropolis of fish and coral teaming around with a confidence that you only get when you know you live in a utopia.
After a very good lunch served by the Bedouins and lashing of syrupy tea we go for our second dive of the day and the pace of life under there has not slackened and I come out of the water positively blissed out.
The order of the evening is another surprisingly delicious meal and quiet relaxed talk around the fire with the tea flowing.
Ras Abagalum ................
The peace here is piercing and there is talk from the Bedouins of ganja and opium.
By 7.30 it is time for bed as there is nothing to do but retire.
I go for a moon lit stroll. While sitting meditating by the waters edge, reflecting on the moons reflection a stranger approaches. We great each other, he is a young Bedouin and we communicate by signs, he is very good and communicating by sign and I realise it is because he is deaf. He invites me to his home for tea.
I enter his hut to find his family sitting around the light of a mobile phone sorting some serious business, they do not register my presence to the degree that I wonder if I'm just a figment of his imagination.
From what I can work out he owns these 4 huts around us and his baby is sleeping behind us and I'm not sure but I may have bought 4 camels, a pet cricket provides a techno sound track to the scene.
After determining the same fact for the 4th time with our limited vocabulary he decides to visit his neighbors and just gets up and walks out, for fear of his figment of imagination turning into a unwanted spirit I follow and bid him farewell and I decide to retire, it is about 8.30 after all.
I lay down on my mattress under a camel hair blanket watching the moon though the roof. My mind reels with my thoughts for India while my heart palpitates from all the sugar laden tea.