Thursday, 21 August 2008
Gone diving...left a wife all forlorn!
This is the dive centre in Hurghada that diver hubbie has gone to see (none of us have seen it yet). It's based at Hilton Plaza in Hurghada, Red Sea, Egypt. I used to swim at the pool regularly when we used to live in Hurghada (but sadly not at the Hilton!)
It has its own marina/jetty and this is the dive boat which leaves every morning , with a bit of luck, full of day divers and snorkellers.
I woke up this morning with a lump in my throat and a big, churned up feeling in the pit of my stomach. The Diver (the other half) has had to go to Hurghada, Red Sea, Egypt today for 10 days on business. We part own a share in this diving centre (see above). It doesn't bring in a lot of money to be honest...I think we stay with it more of the love of it.
I met my chap ( my best friend and bestest drinking buddy ever) through Scuba Diving. I was working in the City in banking, at the time, and I was getting pretty fed up with the rat race. (I tell a lie. I think I was fed up from the start but ten years later I was still there. I guess the pay packets were a big incentive! Plus I loved just looking at "the history" of the City of London every day I worked there.) The year 2000, the Millenium year, dawned and my bit of a Scottish bank merged with a New York City bank. I resolved that something different was going to happen in my life. It did. We were moved from Lombard Street to the 49th floor of Canary Wharf. Even in pre-terrorist days I saw that all the planes landing at Heathrow were using it as a "turning round huge phallic stick in the sky" so I decided to jump ship before I had to go through the fire alarm drill (and all 49 sets of stairs)! I just wasn't sure what to do. Go back home to parents with my tail between my legs? Hmmm. Maybe I would go to Spain and teach English after all...
Talk about fate. A friend at the bank was a BSAC (British Sub-Aqua Club) diving instructor. She pestered and pestered me to try the beginner's course and once I had got all my dratted banking exams out of the way I was ready to go for it. I first met hubbie at the London Dive Show (then based at Olympia Exhibition Halls, Earls Court). He was someone to whom I was introduced. I hardly paid him any attention because I fancied another diver (my club diving instructor) at the time. We all met through the Clidive BSAC dive club based near Old Street. We all went drinking and for a curry after that Saturday at the Dive Show. I had my eye on my instructor desperately hoping that something might happen...instead I found out that hubbie (or rather hubbie to be) was staying that night at my object of desire's house. Talk about having my diving bubble burst!! Hubbie (to be) attempted to talk to me on the way back to catching the tube...I can remember monotonously answering his questions. He did make me smile though with one of his comments when his huge dive bag got caught in the tube turnstile. "Ah well!" I thought to myself, "the tryst with my instructor will have to wait until another time."
That other time did not arrive. Instead a group of diving virgins (including myself) went out with Clidive club (and my sought after diving instructor) to Hurghada, Red Sea. I knew beforehand that a certain bearded chap with a penchant for Guinness and funny stories was out there running the dive centre. I thought no more of it.
Hubbie used to help out with the diving training because he was/is a BSAC diving instructor. I was paired up with him. Mainly because I was a bit of a diving lost cause. I am not a technical, practical person by any stretch of the imagination. When I was attempting to kit up to go on that first dive with him I could see him crossing himself in the corner. "Cheeky bugger!" I thought to myself.....And yes...on that first dive he did show me the delights of the House Reef as he searched and searched the sea grass to show me some of the sea horses (just some of the many residents there). The rest, as they say, is history...
(P.S. Consequently he has left me a whole heap of instructions: like how to turn the oven on, when to water the tomatoes, when to pick the raspberries, the fresh peas, don't blog when you should be preparing (or rather warming up) the children's dinner..........oh crikey!oops!....)