Although
MERSA MATROUH has
grown phenomenally and sees itself
as a sophisticated resort, it
remains a hick town with donkey
carts outnumbering cars on the main
street, which in summer is clogged
with groups of well-to-do Egyptian
and Libyan holidaymakers. All the
local
beaches have been
ruined, leaving only the magnificent
cove at Agiiba and neighbouring
Ubbayad beach, both far from town.
Whatever Egyptians might say, by no
stretch of the imagination does
Matrouh fit the tourist board's
promise of a hedonist's playground.
The only people likely to think so
are the Libyans who've started
coming here since the border was
reopened; Egyptians go the other
way, seeking work in Libya, while
Western visitors are generally more
interested in reaching Siwa Oasis.
A grid of mould-poured low-rise
blocks housing forty thousand
people, the town spreads up
from the coast towards a ridge
festooned with radar dishes. As
Matrouh has gone from being a quiet
fishing port to the booming capital
of the Mediterranean Governorate,
immigrants have poured in from other
parts of Egypt, inspiring mixed
feelings amongst the locals.
Despite appearances, Mersa
Matrouh ("Sheltered
Anchorage") has a long history
. Founded by Alexander the Great on
his way to Siwa, it was here that
Mark Antony and Cleopatra sought
solace after their defeat at Actium,
and that her fleet put out to sea
for its final battle against
Augustus. During the Islamic era,
Matrouh was a busy trading port with
a sideline in smuggling; its other
main industry (dating back to Roman
times) was harvesting sponges.
Divers came from as far away as the
Cyclades - up to two thousand of
them per year in the early part of
last century. To pluck the sponges
from the seabed 60-90m below, they
used a stone to make themselves sink
faster, which they jettisoned at the
bottom. Sponge-harvesting ceased in
the early 1980s.
