It’s amazing how adaptable human beings are. After two weeks in the Alexandria I had become used to seeing the sky in block shapes through buildings. The constant assault of city sounds had dimmed in my consciousness to a dull background buzz. Darting through traffic as I made my way through town was a daily occurrence. I didn’t even realize how accustomed I had become to the city’s onslaught on my senses until Friday.

Friday we went to the beach.

The teachers (and families) at the British School have a wonderful week-end routine. On Fridays (week-ends in Egypt are Friday and Saturday) we pile into a mini bus and head to the Iberotel Borg El Arab Resort on the Mediterranean coast. There are several pools, green grass, lounge chairs and a restaurant. The kids play in the pool, adults play water polo or chill or chat and we all have an enormous lunch.

The beach at the Iberotel Borg El Arab Resort.

This Friday was my first beach experience. In the afternoon I took an hour to myself and sat on a lounge chair looking out at Mediterranean Sea. All I could hear was the crash of waves. All I could feel was a gentle breeze and the light salty spray of the sea. All I could see was the shifting blues and white foam of the waves and the unbroken blue of the sky.

I sat, almost completely still and time lost it's meaning. My mind slowed it's normal hectic pace and I almost felt like I was in a meditative state. I could have sat there for several hours but for the strong sun on my still-pale skin and a mother’s worry about a child out of sight.

Back at the pool I spent hours playing with Oscar in the pool. I don't think I glanced at my watch once. It’s carefree day - or for those of us with children who can’t swim, it’s an almost carefree day. In any case, it’s a welcome reset button for the week. Looking into the endless sky, worries tend to drift away.

To the next week, I say “bring it on.” I have this to look forward to.

To the Borg El Arab Resort, I say this, "Resistance is futile, I have been assimilated." (If you get this - high five, let's be friends)

Yesterday we joined another family to explore the beach, about a 15-minute walk from where we live. The busy streets on the way to the beach were lined with fancy air-conditioned shops, open air convenience stands, food trucks and corn roasting stations. Vendors shouted over the cacophony of car horns. Colourful billboards towered over us and monochrome buildings over them. Every where I turned my senses were overwhelmed with colours, sounds and smells.

Crossing busy roads was like a twisted version of frogger. To cross one must confidently step in front of a car while fervently hoping they actually stop. The right of way does not seem to be dictated by traffic rules, but by boldness, whether pedestrian or car. It is a world away from the Yukon where cars slow down if they even think a pedestrian is considering crossing the road. Miraculously none of us were hit. On the way back we creepily stalked an Egyptian woman to get across El Horreya at a zebra crossing and in order to traverse the last lane we had to squeeze through two cars and pray they didn't accelerate.

Mercifully there was a pedestrian tunnel under El Cournish Road (the main road along the sea). By then I was very hot and eager to dip my toes in the cool sea. We approached several entrances to the beach but we were turned away because they were members-only beaches. Eventually one of our companions discovered that to get a spot on the public beach you need to be there at 10am and it costs 200 LE (about 20 British pounds or 33 Canadian dollars) per adult. Alternatively there was another beach 6 miles away where we might have better luck. At that point I could feel the rivulets of sweats making their way down my legs slowly gain the momentum approaching a small creek and opted to head back, once again facing the gauntlet of traffic, trains and vendors.

We haven't given up. Tomorrow we've decided to take a taxi to a beach further from the city where the teachers usually go on week-ends. I'm determined - my toes will meet sea this time!

The reset button

A trip to the beach... sans beach