Tripping Through Dahab Art

 

Encourage all artists; for it’s how we get a glimpse of others’ realities.

While exploring the concrete landscapes of the U.S., Canada, and Europe, I had often seen them rolling past through a bicycle frame. My early travels abroad had always revealed that things tended to be more colourful out there than back home in Egypt. It would take me the next few decades, piece by piece, story by story, to truly decipher why: Is it the heavy black print, the quality of the paint, or does it have to do with the weather? Cairo is fundamentally a desert city; our streets are naturally more grey and dusty. Or do we simply see more street art abroad because it had been a deeply rooted counterculture for decades, whereas public walls back home remained functional, commercial, or blank?

Freezing the Fleeting Canvas

My fascination with the raw expression of public walls didn’t start on a breezy California boardwalk. It tracks all the way back to my childhood in Egypt during a skateboard phase, staring wide-eyed at the screen during the vibrant, electric graffiti backdrops of 1980s breakdance and skateboard movies like Breakin' 1 and 2: Electric Boogaloo. Beyond Super Channel, VH1, and MTV — which we were among the first to get by simply living in a hotel — those rare foreign videos were an absolute explosion of impossible colour to a kid growing up in a desert metropolis.

By the time I hit 19 — freshly initiated by the untamed creative energy of Los Angeles — I returned to Cairo, immediately bought a can of bright orange spray paint, and roamed the midnight streets of Zamalek, alone. It felt exciting, even dangerous. I scattered about seven or nine “O.C” tags across the neighbourhood walls, explicitly styling the “O” with a distinct smiley face to mirror the incredible times I came to discover. You noticed you were doing something technically illegal, yet it was entirely without a criminal frame. It was about leaving your mark by executing a proper real-world copy/paste.

Why Zamalek even though we were living in Cairo Sheraton at the time? Well, few compelling reasons: It was were I was born, also where had I lived with maternal grandparents at five and six years of age. Many family members from both sides are residents of the island. Then of course, the Gezira Club where I “grew up”. Naturally, such familiarity gave me the courage to execute something as daring as this colourful and victimless crime. 

Combining public walls with psychedelic exploration eventually led to pure, unadulterated madness.

One legendary Thursday night in the late '90s, a cousin, a close friend, and I found ourselves roaming Cairo on a couple of hits of LSD. With a trusty can of orange spray paint acting like a liquid volcano in my hand, we stopped inside a dark tunnel in Giza. We began splashing a bright orange smiley face and a crude rendition of Fido Dido onto the concrete — a thrill-seeking urge to leave a mark on the city. It was my very first time taking anyone out with me on a mission, and my first time venturing outside the safety of Zamalek. And look what happened.

Mid-fun, the inevitable happened: A police vehicle, conveniently known as “box”, rolled up and stopped. 

In a fit of altered-state genius, I kicked the can under the vehicle. I stood there pretending I just happened to be casually standing next to a dripping, freshly painted wall at 3:00 am. But we had been seen as clear as day. I don’t know how, but what is certain is that there a thrill to the novelty, since we had never done these reckless things before.

The officer stepped out, highly suspicious. This was the 1990s, the height of Egypt’s infamous “Satanist” moral panic, and our music cassettes looked damning. I tried to casually philosophise our way out of it, blaming a boring weekend night. “Outings are packed in the weekends and there is nothing much to do.” 

My anxious cousin, trying to save us, politely interrupted to insist: “Hadretak ehna welad nas” (Sir, we come from good families).

After he nervously blurted it out for the third time, the officer completely snapped, shouting: “Ya3ni ehna welad kelb?!” (So we are the children of dogs?!).

Against all cosmic odds, the tension broke, and they let us go. The orange smiley face and Fido Dido survived on that Giza tunnel wall for years — a glowing reminder of a night we narrowly escaped the matrix... and the Box. The full story, Almost Busted While Spray Painting on Acid, is found on Funny Drug-Related Stories 2 (2016). 

Another night a year later, I stole a traffic cone from more or less the exact same area. Yep, life on the edge, my friends. Funnily enough, years later through the internet, I came to the glorious realisation that I wasn’t the only one pulling stunts like that while growing up. On my own post showing the actual orange cone still resting at home, the few Facebook friends who confessed to doing the same while growing up turned out to be Americans and even Kiwis.

That raw, risky midnight background is precisely what later drove my camera toward capturing street art in Toronto after moving there in my early 30s, often around Kensington Market. But much more so across the vibrant walls of Montreal, which is more strikingly vibrant, young, and less businessy than TO. Ah, the colours of the murals are so vivid and radiant, on my few visits I would roam around the city with camera in hand and clickity click. Many of the street art captured during this era was compiled in World Art Through My Lens (2014), my first photo-article on One Lucky Soul.   

“Sure, the paint must be of decent quality,” I would say while gazing at the lively, luminous murals. Why can’t we have the same quality in Egyptian streets, even for commercial “prints” — because street art was never much of a thing here. My theory? They remain vibrantly prismatic  in the West because there is simply less desert dust to erode the pigment. There is also a structural element: the West turned public spaces into institutional playgrounds for expression decades ago, while our canvas remained buried under the sand.

As you can see, the colour’s quality question is still preoccupying me all these decades later.

But Egypt is catching up. Keep that thought in mind, because we’re going to revisit it later.

“La Natura” was my first photography exhibition, Cairo 2014

Following Europe, Canada, and the American Midwest, the exposure to real street art masterpieces began when moving to Venice Beach, where I eventually documented the roaring subcultures all over the Westside in Tripping Through Venice Beach Art and its Sequel. Only then did I realise how the rest of North America was not that heavily infested with murals compared to [this part of] L.A. Before reaching there I had spent seven months continuously crossing across the field before finally getting my creative fuel.

Surprisingly — or actually, perhaps not — the most colourful city in that specific middle part of the country turned out to be Motor City, Detroit, which I visited during a frozen stretch in early 2014. Ironically — then again maybe not —  I came to find out that the city of Detroit had filed for bankruptcy on July of 2013, months prior my visit. What? In the mighty Land of the Free? How could that be possible, you wonder. 

In The Unplanned Tour Across America, part of the recent article Early Memories Never Worded: The Subconscious Chronicles #2, I explore the stark reality beyond the Disneyesque appearance that becomes apparent once you see it for yourself. 

Do note that walls were not the only canvas filling my lens during this highly creative era. The deep, rhythmic subcultures of the Westside forced a massive wave of parallel photo-articles into existence:

• A Year at the Venice Beach Drum Circle in Photos & Videos (2014-’15) 

• Another Year at the Venice Beach Drum Circle in Photos & Videos (2016-’17)

• One More Year at the Venice Beach Drum Circle in Photos & Videos (2017-’18)

It was a time of total visual immersion, breaking away from the coast for frantic, vivid cultural trips like A Wacky Day Out at LA Burning Man Decompression in Photos & Video or capturing the classical, serene geometry of The Phenomenal Getty Villa in Photos.

Even when pulling away from California’s shores to touch back down on native soil, the narrative lens remained wide open. Echoes From The Past — Alexandria in Photos is another deeply immersive piece of photographic storytelling, conjured during a 2015 trip back to Egypt when I visited the ancient Mediterranean pearl for the first time after 34 years.

It was during those grounding journeys back home that I would have photography exhibitions in Cairo. Using a camera and a point of view, I was thereby sharing the findings of my exploratory quest across these strange lands. Navigating the intense psychological shift of moving between entirely different worlds taught me first-hand about The Healing Powers of Storytelling: A Personal Experience, turning the lens, and the pen, into vital tools for making sense of the journey.

Cat Approved: I had missed that sight, so going to talk to Zeyad 
came oh-so-naturally — Dahab, March 2026 

Moving to Venice Beach, you see, meant dropping the car entirely and relying on a bicycle — which turned out to be the ultimate practical advantage for spotting new murals. After taking mental notes of new creations popping up in the neighbourhood or simple photos using the phone, every six to nine months, I would head out with my camera in hand for a dedicated few hours of intense shooting, hunting for the absolute best angles and lighting; sometimes around the sunrise the the streets were still sleeping, sometimes around the sunset, and other times mid day. For one massive wall, I remember having to cross Pacific Ave entirely just to shoot from the opposite side of the street to capture the whole mural in a single frame.

And that was the exact same day when the street-level confirmation came: A random man stopped me on the pavement and asked, “Is your name Omar Cherif?” I nodded in disbelief, to which he replied, “My wife follows your street art photos and absolutely loves them!”. Huh.

So, ya sidi, it seems I was officially becoming a known fixture in the Venice subculture. And remember, this is is not Dahab with its several thousand residents, but massive Los Angeles with its millions. Also Instagram was still fresh back in 2017, and my shots started gaining some traction that massive L.A accounts with indeed millions of followers began tracking my feed — maybe rightly so.

When I took extra efforts to add the links and artist credits in the sequel, More Tripping Through Venice Beach Art (2018), it connected me directly to the heart of the community. I ended up crossing paths with the iconic Jules Muck @muckrock while she was painting on Abbot Kinney Blvd — a stretch once famously dubbed the coolest street in America where I stayed for five years. We had a brief chat before I snapped a photo of her; then returned later with the actual camera to capture the finale. Jules is still touring the American streets today while running high-profile exhibitions, a true powerhouse. 

I also met Robert Vargas and Sandoner mid-process; took a mental and was back after. It was actually refreshing to come across some prominent women in that field. 

Likewise, Felipe Pantone and Alexandre Farto, aka @Vhils, had works displayed along the very same Abbot Kinney stretch. Interestingly, Vhils’ signature style of chiselled portraiture eventually made its way back home to Egypt, where he contributed a kickass sculptural installation, “Doors of Cairo,” right by the Great Pyramids of Giza at the end of 2025. 

Like I said: Egypt is catching up.

Man, it was absolutely inspiring to be surrounded by all this street creativity. The vibrant colours are contagious, and they end up invading your everyday reality — in the coolest way possible. They certainly invaded my writings, just as they invaded my dreams.

Dongol the security detail is keeping the mural-in-progress safe

Flash forward to returning to Dahab in March 2022 — my first time setting foot here since 1999. I immediately spotted quite a few local murals and lost no time capturing them during this re-introductory era. Using a bicycle, of course. Being a coastal city, it completely lacks the heavy, grey desert dust of Cairo. With Mother Nature serving as a backdrop, the colours of the murals remain strikingly vivid.

When I officially moved here shortly after the first exploratory trip, I carried on with the documentation. But then, I intentionally stopped shooting for a while, quietly holding onto the archive, knowing deep down that one day this definitive photo-article would finally see the light.

The modern revival of my lens kicked off a couple of months back in March 2026, when I spotted a young local artist named Zeyad @zeyad_elsharksy_art working on a fresh mural right on my street. I did exactly what I do: Walked right up, introduced myself, grabbed his handle, and sent him my early Venice Beach photo-articles — possibly for a bit of cross-continental inspiration. I ended up archiving his entire process, shooting a couple of behind-the-scenes photos mid-creation — including one beautifully framed with a local street cat and another with a dog.

I knew the long-awaited Dahab Art archive was finally nearing completion. But the universe wasn’t done dropping hints. Just last week, during a sunrise stroll-patrol on the Boardwalk, I came across that breathtaking, lotus-infused masterpiece by @shepa_art at the Nour Boutique Hotel. Bass. The circle was complete.

What makes the street art scene in this coastal enclave so magnetic is that it is inherently transient. Shops change hands, people move on, and murals get painted over or disappear. The camera here is simply capturing these fleeting, momentary glimpses and immortalising them for eternity. And while I did my best to add credit to the artists, some remain beautifully anonymous; for those, the location and the year of capture will map out their history instead. If any of you recognises their own work or someone they know and would like the name of the artist added, please write me.

Do note that the word “Art” in the title doesn’t mean we are solely restricted to spray paint and murals. True art is about catching these fleeting, momentary glimpses of life’s raw poetry — anywhere and everywhere — and freezing them in a frame. Life is art, and beauty will always manifest for those with eyes to see, ears to listen, and hearts to feel.

Moving forward, I will keep re-updating this piece with new works once they materialise around Dahab.

Enjoy this photographic tour of our creative coastal sanctuary.

By “Morsyinio” — Athanor, 2022

By Karmen Philips @karmenartgallery — Boardwalk, 2022 

A gift to myself: A mushy bemushroomed bag by @l_apersona 
— Amanda Market, 2023

Keeping alive the inner child
Untamed and wild
Full of questions and wonder
Curiosity survives lightning and thunder
— On Being Childless 
Boardwalk, June 2022

Hidden in one of the paths to the beach, 2022

New Amanda Hotel, 2022

Dahab, October 2022. The first Full Lunacy Drum Circle by One Lucky Soul — Dahab, when I invited the entire town to try this completely new thing, despite knowing only a handful of people. The Originator introducing his Lunacy. After founding Full Lunacy Drum Circle by One Lucky Soul — Dockweiler Beach in L.A in October 2016, this was the new intercontinental sibling. Who knew the fire that started back at Dockweiler L.A. in 2016 would catch on so beautifully out here on the Sinai sand? I kinda did.

Keeping the Fire of the Soul Alive — one full moon drum circle at a time,
October 2022  

Bring On The Lunacy 🌕

The year was ’97

When I turned the volume to 11

Went out of my mind

We may say “lost it”

O’ what blissed find

When parts of you die, you turn fit

A Bigger Picture emerges once the puzzle fit

Ascended into kaleidoscopic madness

Temporary changes that aren’t lastless

More not less, to heal this mess

But the footprints are passless

And your Inner Truth is pathless

Trackless, saw a different reality

Now, not much of a rarity

Some call “humanity” insanity

Even chronic chaotic calamity

That’s utter bubonic profanity

A grain of sand in the Youniverse

Came to commute and converse

Ants, bees, spiders, and fruit flies

Plants too, let me tell you — no lies

Fragile life blooming in all its forms

Sharing a Pale Blue Dot we call home

Let us cherish one another:

Here Now, Sister and Brother.

▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼

Kool, 2022

2022

Boardwalk, 2022

On an early bike ride during the first exploratory trip months back, I came across an eclectic labyrinthine treasure trove of historical artifacts and vintage curiosities. Khaled Morsy invited me into what felt like a sun-drenched wonderland — thousands of random, beautiful objects coexisting in a dense two-room microcosm. There were old cameras, vintage radios, black-and-white photos of Charlie Chaplin, and local street kittens weaving between the legs of antique furniture.

I shared with Khaled that I was contemplating moving to Dahab permanently, as it felt like a natural fit for independent, creative spirits. Two months later, the move was official. Khaled has since relocated his spectacular chaos right next to the grocer in Asala Square, where we regularly cross paths.

 

Khaled Morsy standing proudly outside the original incarnation of the Dahab Magic Box. An absolute wonderland of vintage memories and the beautiful, untamed junk-art aesthetic of the Red Sea coast — Peace Road, March 2022

2022

Don’t step on the grass: Smoke it, 2022

“There is some confusion as to what magic actually is. I think this can be cleared up if you just look at the very earliest descriptions of magic. Magic in its earliest form is often referred to as ‘the art’. I believe this is completely literal. I believe that magic is art and that art, whether it be writing, music, sculpture, or any other form is literally magic. Art is, like magic, the science of manipulating symbols, words, or images, to achieve changes in consciousness.”

— Alan Moore

Foxy girl by ID 22 — Boardwalk, 2022

Another hidden gem, 2022

I scream, 2022

Documenting this coastal sanctuary isn’t that much of a solitary pursuit. The creative synergy here constantly bounces between different travellers and artists who find themselves anchored by the same energetic frequency. Many come for a visit and either keep coming back or move permanently. Same story, different players.

I first met a spirited, nomadic traveller from Wales in her 60s named Kate Roberts @nomadi.kat after a common ally recommended she attend one of my early Full Lunacy Drum Circle gatherings on the beach. Ever since that first visit, she was completely hooked, returning to the shores of Sinai every single year — becoming a regular Full Lunatic. Once during a break from drumming around the bonfire, Kat casually asked me to describe Dahab in three words. Instinctively, I blurted out: Serenity. Freedom. Simplicity.

Months later, she surprised me with pages from her beautifully curated photo-book, Gold on Gold, which captures the true, magical charm of the town’s soul. Lo and behold, my three spontaneous words were permanently printed right there next to my name. It is proof of how this mystical Sinai landscape breeds instant friendships, novelty, and deep cross-cultural and cross-generational inspiration. Kat also beautifully showcased these prints during her exhibition at Zen Garden.

Serenity. Freedom. Simplicity: My three words describing Dahab in Gold on Gold. 
— January 2025

Namaste Indian Food, 2022

الفن في دهب لا يكتفي بالجدران الملونة؛ بل يتسلل في لقطات عفوية تمزج بين الانعكاسات، لحظات الشروق، وأرواح المدينة الساكنة التي تراقبنا بصمت. الفن يأتيك في كل شكل وصورة وطعم وريحة وملمس. الفن هنا لا ينفصل عن نبض الحياة البسيطة اليومية.

رَسَائِلُ تِلِيبَاثِيَّةٌ مِنْ سِنَّوْرٍ رَاقِدٍ وَرَاءَ الْبَلُّورِ 🐾

أنا البِسْبِس كَاتْ

ومالِيش فالتَّرَّهَاتْ

دي الدُّنيا خُد و Hat

”إِنَّ“ و”كَانَ“ والأَخَوَاتْ

إنما سَاعَات مَع البُوبِيهَاتْ

تِفوت دَقَايق مِن الإِلْتِبَاسَاتْ

بَسّ الدُّنيا يَا مَاو أَخْذ وعَطَا

أَصْلَهَا مِش نَاقْصَة مَرْمَطَة

مَاتْ تخينْ اللّي Fat

───𓃠───

*Rhythmic wavelengths sent telepathically by this Sannour (سنور) from behind the glass during the sunrise stroll-patrol with the pack. We may call is surrealist art.

Moving mural by Yassin Mohamed @yassindraws, honouring rescue dogs, 
spotted days following the earthquakes in Syria and Turkey — February 2023

Anonymous, 2022


Was happy to find Utility Box art here as well. Because the space is right there
for beautification, and any colours are better than the typical grey metal, 2022

The largest mural to come across — Peace Road, 2022

“What the really great artists do is they’re entirely themselves. They’re entirely themselves, they’ve got their own vision, they have their own way of fracturing reality, and if it’s authentic and true, you will feel it in your nerve endings.”

— David Foster Wallace

New Sphinx Hotel, 2022

2022

By Stella and Nanna_, the Boardwalk 2022

One more anonymous mural, 2022


@moodsarthouse, 2023

As you walk the coast, you realise the street art isn’t static. The local environment constantly paints its own unscripted compositions, its own portraits. That is, if you happen to be aware of your surrounding — with a lens ready.

Taking sunrise photos of five posing stray dogs is Art
— The Coral Coast pack, 2026

Boardwalk, 2022

Anonymous Whale Wall, 2022

Another by@yassindraws, March 2023

Exhibition by @jul_art_lovecoloring, Marine Garden Camp, 2022

Poetry in a Click: Taking photos of six, no wait, seven dogs sittingly peacefully — and geometrically — facing the sea is what I would naturally do. That is, from the other side of the lens. In the latest, Coincidentia Oppositorum*: The Reverse-Office View 🐾, I explore the dynamics of the strategic inner circle of these stray canines who accepted me as a friend and ally.

Normally, I am the one orchestrating the frame. So then and there, I turned around and asked a friend and Full Lunatic who happened to be sitting on a table right behind to take a photo of the scenery. But the real synthesis happened when I walked back up to the tables. A young Chinese traveller approached me, glowing and completely spellbound by the scene. She told me she had also been taking photos and videos of the exact same moment from her vantage point.

As she sent them my way — including this one — she confessed how bewitched she was by the surreal view, by my relationship with these beach guardians, and by the entire Dahab vibe. I smiled and told her the truth: “We’ve been neighbours for a few years now. Just beware the town’s infectious charm — it always ends up getting to the best of us.” Ha. I feel we will cross paths again on these shores.

Everyday Cafe, 2022

The Evolution: Full Lunacy Drum Circle Dahab on 🔥 
— December 2025 

Cooking is absolutely Art. So is capturing smiles. 
Yummy home-made food by the kind and colourful chef: 
Wafaa in her kiosk at Dahab Hotel, April 2026

Boardwalk, 2022

“Ever flickering between a faint glimmer and shining brightly, the creative soul is like a twinkling star. Their time in the darkness is the fuel needed to glow across the sky when the ‘light’ time comes. For them, embodying the significance of their insignificance by being nothing and everything simultaneously is the greatest poetry there is. Indeed, ’tis one prime essence of the Human Condition.”

— Omar Cherif

The above words are originally from OLS Reflections Cinquante-Neuf (2018). As for the other quotes in this piece, they are from Some Soulful Artists Quotes.

A Zen cat [ سنور ] is also Art, better yet if wild and untamed. Meaowww, 2026

2022 — used in a piece titled Metamorphosis

With paternal and maternal cousins at another photography exhibition: 
On The Road — The Shelter in Zamalek, 2016   

Raising conscious awareness through art — mural with a green message 
by Moods art house dahab on the Boardwalk, January 2023

Shanti Cafe, 2022

As we finalise our collection, here’s Zeyad’s finalised piece, April 2026

Shoot Le Shooter on the Boardwalk: Straddling the trusty two-wheeled art-hunting rig, 
wearing a sensational hat that screams pure Madame Bianca Castafiore. A cheeky, whimsical glimpse of the eye behind the lens.

ALSO VIEW:


A Wacky Day Out at L.A Burning Man Decompression in Photos & Video (14 October 2017)

A Year at the Venice Beach Drum Circle in Photos & Videos (2014-’15)

Another Year at the Venice Beach Drum Circle in Photos & Videos (2016-’17)

One More Year at the Venice Beach Drum Circle in Photos & Videos (2017-’18)

The Phenomenal Getty Villa in Photos

World Art Through My Lens

Tripping Through Venice Beach Art

More Tripping Through Venice Beach Art

Echoes From The Past — Alexandria in Photos

Photos I Shot That Brought Tears To My Eyes

Some People I Shot

More People I Shot

Some More People I Shot

Some Animals I Shot

How Drumming Changed The Way My Brain Processes Music

The Intertwining of Music and Sexuality ― A Djembefola’s Tale