We are on a holiday I never expected we would be on – the days were when we bought a Rough Guide, booked a flight and a hire car and took it from there.

But these days we have more limitations and the Best Beloved gets like a bear with a sore head in January/February so here we are.

( Before you read on, an apology that this is one of several pieces about another holiday. Please bear in mind, we don’t jaunt all the time and it is true that there is more time to write when you haven’t got a list of things to do and place to be when you are on holiday.

And, of course I have lots of holiday photos to share with you.)

But I will quite understand that reading the holiday rambles of lucky people may not be your thing so feel free to leave now and no doubt you have a list of things to do too.)

‘Here’ is a lovely hotel complex with two pools, a children’s pool, several terraces, overlooking the sea the beach and then the Red Sea and 317 rooms scatted in lovely gardens.

I am not complaining.

We are technically in Egypt but Sharm el Sheik is 300-hotel totally-tourist place.

There is a negligible local population – and I mean negligible.

Every one of the army of people making our hotel complex immaculate, serving at tables, sweeping up bougainvillea blossoms every morning, cleaning the pools at sunrise and sunset, gently rolling the sand on the beach to eradicate yesterday’s footprints, reception staff, bar staff, cooks, room cleaners ( including folding towels into heart or swan shapes), those keeping the marble floors free of any dust or footprints – all of them come from somewhere else.

They are all in the hotel’s various liveries and all are smiling, polite and helpful.

We are here at the end of January which is the quietest month – and therefore really pleasant because they have time to stop at chat and there is an air of peacefulness about the place.

Things start to ramp up in February – halt-terms and all – and keep going up and up.

Despite, or maybe because of the fact, the heat ramps up too, British people come in their thousands and I mean thousands.

Apparently, there can be 10 planes a day from the UK into Sharm just from two holiday companies – and there are others.

And that is just the Brits. Apparently the Czech’s like summer here, the Russians come all year round, the French ( always adventurous when they leave France, come for the nights in the dessert), some Italians and Germans, but no Scandinavians because they don’t like that might heat – I am with the Scandis.

You can just imagine the fleets of transfer coaches just driving endlessly backwards and forwards all day and well into the evening.

The kitchen staff working flat out in up to 40 degree heat outside never mind inside.

The room cleaners dealing with the chaos a family of two adults and two kids can wreak on they room on a daily basis.

The shaded pool loungers occupied from early mornings.

Our last minute all-inclusive deal means we were given a green bracelet which means everything is free – all food, all drinks – the latter came as rather a surprise when I went to the bar to order some wine, of course I did.

The overwhelming majority of the lovely army of staff are young, fit, healthy and often handsome Egyptian men. 

I have seen one woman on reception one day, and one woman opening the door for you as you go into the restaurant.

It is a cultural thing.

Egypt has a very young population which may explain why they have put several steps all over the place – from one bit of the bar to another, from there to reception, from one poolside to another, from the terrace to ‘our’ terrace. And there is a flight of 22 steps from the bar to the restaurant level.

Except for the flight, none of them have handrails which is a little challenging for anyone with balance and walking issues – the Best Beloved says it will do him good but a unbalanced man tackling shiny marble steps with two sticks is a bit anxiety-inducing.

A few handrails around the place would be good. Mind you there is always some nice young man leaping forward to help if necessary.

Seeing endless young men running lightly up and down them without a thought makes me jealous for my youth, leave alone the BB.

Another surprise was the fact that the Wifi here is, well rubbish.

In our room there is none.

Needless to say the best place to get any reception is in reception which explains why I am practically sitting on the reception staff’s knee to post this.

And why reception has a scattering of lone people checking their phones at any time of day or night.

I am not sure why the Wifi is bad across Egypt and especially in the tourist Mecca that is Sharm.

Maybe, President El Sisi prefers it that way – a lot of controlling regimes do.

But I was told that one of the reasons why it is bad in hotels is that all the staff, away from home, with no Netflix and not much to do in their time off, download movies using up all the bandwidth. Good on them.

Meanwhile, the rooms were clearly designed a built some years ago because there just aren’t enough plug points to charge up – and that’s just the two of us leave alone if you had kids with you.

So it is either the lamp or the laptop – that sort of thing.

A paltry complaint but rather a surprising one in this day and age.

But really we are living for a week in a luxurious bubble.

I used to spend time working on intense short summer schools with 100 PhD students. 

You barely thought of the outside world, let alone ventured into it, you were in this other, entirely separate place for days on end.

That was in university accommodation of greater or lesser comfort and quality.

This feels a bit like that except without the students, the work demands and the lack of comfort.

I am not complaining.