When our Sex and the City columnist Irina von Bentheim slipped off to Egypt with her man, thank goodness her backpacking soul let her laugh off her bad luck. Thanks to Irina our knowledge of Egypt has been broadened and we cant wait to extend our portfolio of hotels in the north African country.

I recently travelled to Egypt and unfortunately experienced the consequences of holidaying without Escapio. The website is (thankfully) ever growing but at present there is only one recommended hotel (the fabulous Steigenberger Al Dau Beach Hotel), though I’m convinced there are plenty of properties up to Escapio standards. In September we drove from Cairo to Ain Suchnah (just an hour away) where we had booked a stay in the Ramadan Hotel, which sounded nice in the Merian guidebook. My boyfriend was sceptical on account of previous experience and though I’m usually optimistically inclined, I have to admit I felt a little queasy on the way. One thing is certain: 4 star hotels in Egypt are not to be compared with 4 stars in Europe. Since Egypt quite frankly looks like a sandcastle construction site, I tried not to let the countless concrete building shells positioned around the hotel, nor the factory in sight, perturb me. A different country, different customs, different manners. Egyptians happen to use their hotels, well, differently. They will book a room for just a day – without staying overnight – and invite the entire family. That explains why the bedrooms are often enormous and, as they’ve entertained hundreds of weekend visitors, pretty tired and worn.

I’m well travelled and have seen the worst standards as a backpacker, and I still prefer simple accommodation even when they admit to being “basic”. I’d choose a beach hut without air con over a huge two-bathroomed suite any day –but on this weekend it was our only choice. Great – broken air conditioning, one completely run down bathroom, wrecked furniture and grubby towels and bedclothes. We found it amusing and headed straight for the beautiful beach – sunbeds, umbrellas, clear water. The Red Sea lured me in for my first dip like a magnet, but somehow it wasn’t quite as refreshing as I’d imagined. The Egyptians tend to stand or float around for hours just chatting and… no, I cant write that.

I like swimming. Unfortunately I reached, and swam over, a swimming boundary rope rather sooner than planned, and the natives shouted over a few comments which of course I couldn’t understand so just laughed. I felt I was being stalked by fiery jellyfish the whole time I was in the water, and just before I reached the shore I felt a sharp pain rush up my arm. Seconds later a red ring appeared on my upper arm which swelled up and itched. A Brit explained it was from the rope which sea urchins tended to populate and had priciked me with their spikes. Would have been good to know that beforehand…

That night it wasnt only my arm itching, but my whole body – I was prickling all over. I cant confirm my suspicions, but it felt rather like flea bites…

What improved our stay in Ain Sukhna wasnt just the time we spent together or the fresh sea air away from smoggy Cairo – it was the Mövenpick hotel we fled to in the evenings for dinner (no way was I going to eat in the Ramadan). The Mövenpick had everything our hearts desired: 5 star luxury, artificial pools and islands shaded by palm trees, and a folk band playing to us. The evenings by the sea, cooled by a warm breeze and great music, fresh fish for my boyfriend, an unbeatable Metzzeh platter for me. As he extended his arm and led me to dance under the starry sky, my dream was complete… and I didn’t want to wake up to have to return to the suspect Ramadan, where our towels hadn’t been changed or our beds made. And I’m still dreaming…