Maybe it's because I'm a forty-year-old guy who shouldn't be dabbling with extreme sports. Maybe it's because I live in a wealthy European country where fast, efficient customer service is the norm. Maybe the Sinai's oppressive heat has warped the sense of time of the staff, one member of which proudly told me he never consulted his watch. That would be my instructor.
To be fair, I received the instructional services for which I paid. E-mail correspondence with the outfit was a bit iffy: I had to pry for important details like location, start date and transportation. To say that this outfit is laid-back is an understatement: I've seen corpses with more pep.
It wasn't just the attitude of the instructor, who kicked off our lesson by telling me he taught kiting because he "didn't want a real job," but also the attitudes of the two people running the place. One manager joked about how he would jot down numbers (think cash here) on pieces of paper, promise himself he'd remember them, then make a hash of it by the end of the day. Dude, here's a tip: enter the information on the fancy computer in front of you. His partner forced me and another customer to wait a good twenty minutes while she had a conversation about real estate values with a third customer: should she buy or not? What a quandary!
If you're under thirty or a already a kiteboarder none of this might bother you: other customers seemed pleased enough. The more excited you are about the sport, the less anything other than time spent on the water will bother you. It wouldn't have made much of a difference to me if I hadn't been paying rather hefty first-world prices. When you charge as much as an outfit in the UK or the US, you should deliver comparable service, awesome local wind conditions hnotwithstanding.
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