“This was the last round of our summer trips that we have been doing since June, and I think we managed to have a good time without having to spend much more than we can afford or drop all plans to go to the beach,” said Mohamed Hassan.
From early June to late August, Hassan took his wife and two primary-school children on more than nine day trips to the beach.
“The whole plan was to avoid spending on renting a place to spend the night because even the least expensive apartments in the least expensive places for summer vacations have become unaffordable for us,” he explained. “So, we start early in the morning, pack our food and go to an open beach, spend the day, have a little nap in the car and then drive back to Cairo.”
Following this routine, Hassan’s family visited Ras Sedr, Port Said, Ain Sokhna, Baltim, Gamasa, Alexandria, Agami, and Marsa Matrouh.
Most were straightforward day trips. For the more distant destinations, however, the family would spend the late afternoon sleeping in the car, stay out in the city during the evening, and drive back to Cairo at night.
“When we travelled from Alexandria to Agami, it did not take long at all despite the traffic on the highway, and when we arrived the open beach was not empty. People were already there having breakfast — some had actually spent the night on the beach as a way of economizing,” Hassan said.
Hassan works as a driver using a car he bought on instalments after graduating from the Faculty of Commerce. He had originally intended the car for commuting to a government or private-sector job. After failing to secure one, however, he joined a ride-hailing application to earn enough to cover the instalments.
Eventually, after comparing his income with that of classmates who found government or private-sector jobs, he decided to remain a driver because he was earning considerably more, something that mattered as he was preparing to marry.
A summer holiday had traditionally been the only time he took off from spending almost every day of the year on the road.
“A bit of flexibility made things work,” he said.
This kind of “flexible vacationing scheme”, however, is not available to everyone. For one thing, it requires a private car. According to 2025 official statistics, only 7.6 percent of the population owns one. The figure is calculated individually, meaning some households may own several cars while many others have none.
“We used to rent a microbus to take us to Ras El-Bar every summer. It was a journey that we did with my sister and her family and my brother-in-law and his family,” said Sana’ Hussein, a civil servant.
The three families also shared the rent of a summer cabin, making the holiday affordable and enjoyable for everyone.
Two years ago, however, they agreed that their Ras El-Bar holidays had to end.
“It was becoming unaffordable because everything else was becoming very expensive. We have been cutting down on so many non-essentials, and the summer vacation went away,” Hussein explained.
The alternative for her family has been an evening out once a month: “cinema, sandwiches and ice cream”.
Other families who have given up summer holidays cite similar economic pressures.
Hamed Abdallah, a retired civil servant, once rented an apartment for his family of five, first in Alexandria and later in the cheaper resort of Baltim. Eventually, rising living costs made even that unaffordable.
Hassan’s approach of driving between beaches and sleeping in the car does not appeal to Abdallah because of his age and, as he put it, his “social situation”.
“If I cannot afford it, then I am not going to roam around in my car. It would be demeaning for my status, to be honest. This is something for young people,” Abdallah said.
He added that he does not feel particularly bad about being unable to afford a week by the seaside “because this is the case of almost everyone else in the middle class”.
“Clearly, summer holidays have become something for those who have sufficient financial resources or those who have access to some trips that are organized either by their workplace or maybe a syndicate or some other entity,” he said.
For Talia Karim, however, the complexities of summer holidays are not exclusively financial.
“Clearly, economy is the most essential of all issues, but there are other concerns, including social norms,” she argued.
A graphic designer in her early 30s, Karim has access to a spacious summer house overlooking the sea in one of the most luxurious compounds on Egypt’s extended northwestern coast. It is the second summer house her family has owned, having moved farther west along the coast.
“This is what people call Sahel Sherir (evil), but I don’t like it. I was much more comfortable with the Sahel Tayeb (kind) that my family decided to leave behind and move further west, along with those who have the financial means,” she said.
Karim’s preference for the family’s former summer destination is partly related to her veil.
At the newer, upscale compound, she is one of relatively few women wearing a burkini.
“It doesn't matter if it is an expensive one — because brands matter a lot on this part of the seaside; it is not enough,” Karim said. “If a woman, especially one who is relatively young, is not wearing a bikini then it is considered quite odd. Only older women are expected to wear a one-piece swimsuit, but of course it has to be an expensive one.”
Until two years ago, Karim recalled, people would simply look at her in her burkini as though she were “an alien who had just landed from outer space”.
This year, however, a guard approached her as she was leaving one of the compound’s pools and told her that “nannies are not allowed in the pool”.
“He assumed that my burkini meant that I was a nanny. I am not offended because he thought I was a nanny but because of the humiliating way he talked about the nanny — or maybe both, to be honest,” she said.
The incident occurred earlier in the summer, and Karim has since decided not to return to her parents’ compound. Instead, she twice joined friends who still have summer houses in what she calls the Sahel Tayeb.
“I cannot tolerate the insanity that has become associated with summer holidays. It is not just about my hijab but about everything else, from the expected endless number of swimsuits that people have to wear — both men and women, by the way — to the endless morning outfits, the jewellery stacking for the beach, and the prices of food and drink,” Karim said.
“All I want is to relax, swim, and just enjoy the seaside. It has become almost impossible to do this if one is on Sahel Sherir, where people act as if they are in a fashion show or on the red carpet of a film festival all the time,” she added.
Throughout the summer, social media carried accounts of experiences in both Sahel Tayeb and Sahel Sherir. Alongside complaints about restrictions imposed on renters in some high-end compounds — including multiple QR codes required to access beaches, swimming pools, or restaurants — these accounts highlighted the widening gap between those vacationing in Sahel Sherir and much of the rest of society, both economically and socially.
According to Hana Ebeid, a socioeconomist and deputy director of Al-Ahram Centre for Political and Strategic Studies, the debate surrounding summer holidays reflects not merely differences in resources and social norms but deeper social divisions.
“Even within a given compound there are divisions as the space is divided into areas A, B, C and D, all written and pronounced, of course, in English. These divisions are in essence economic labels that separate those of Area A from those of the other areas,” she noted.
“The whole concept of a gated residential area is about the exclusion that some people are willing to pay to get,” Ebeid said. “What started in the city expanded, and soon enough a summer house became another element of social labelling.”
“What started with Sahel Tayeb and Sahel Sherir soon evolved into the owner versus the guest,” she added.
Ebeid acknowledged that socioeconomic divisions have always shaped summer holidays. However, she argued that these differences have become particularly stark with the expansion of Sahel Sherir, largely designed for those with substantial financial resources as well as Gulf Arab holidaymakers.
A paper published by the Alternative Policy Solutions project at the American University in Cairo argues that, “In its drive to ‘develop’ the North Coast, the government seeks to maximize foreign currency liquidity by attracting local and regional private investments.”
“In turn, investors are acquiring tracts on the coast to build luxury resorts that block public access to the sea,” the paper added.
It noted that 67 percent of tourism resorts on Egypt’s northwestern coast were built by Gulf Arab investors.
While acknowledging the legitimate pursuit of investment, the paper raised concerns about the potential effects of such development on public access to beaches and, in some cases, its environmental consequences, including those associated with resorts incorporating yacht marinas.
Ebeid said there is nothing illegitimate about people seeking luxury services if they can afford them, but argued that this should not come at the expense of social harmony.
Until relatively recently, she said, Marsa Matrouh offered a useful example of a summer destination where luxury services existed alongside more affordable options catering to a broad range of economic groups.
At its core, Ebeid argued, the question is not merely whether every citizen can enjoy legitimate access to the seaside, but whether different segments of society can continue to share public and recreational spaces without becoming increasingly isolated from one another.
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