The town is crowded and a bit unruly. Cars, shops and people swarm the downtown area and hotels and tourist villages elbow each other for room along the water. That there is no overarching aesthetic concept is one thing, but frankly, I could hardly see the water, what with all the hotels, restaurants and villas blocking the view. It was a modest fishing village with small houses. The area was predominantly taken up by a military zone and residents depended mainly on the gifts of the Red Sea to earn their living.
Locals claim that virtually no travellers came through town.
The few that did were handfuls of backpackers who somehow had found out about the place and came to dive along the spectacular reefs. They would sleep out in the open, their sleeping bags their only form of residence. In what seemed like a blink of the eye, international hotel chains caught a whiff of the fresh sea air and set their sights on Hurghada's virgin beaches and exquisite coral reefs. The concept was new to Egypt, but had long been popular abroad and consequently, Hurghada attracted a decidedly European and upscale clientele, particularly from France. The rest was sand and sea.