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.