The town is three quite different places strung along twenty kilometres of coast.
Hurghada is not really one town. It is a fishing village that grew twenty kilometres down the coast in forty years, and the parts of it have almost nothing in common.
Dahar is the old town at the northern end: the souk, the fish market, the bus station, cheap local restaurants and the closest thing to everyday Egypt in the city. It is where to go for spices, for a haircut, for koshary, and for the sense that you are somewhere real.
Sekalla, in the middle, is the tourist strip — bars, dive shops, fast food, souvenir arcades. It is loud and not beautiful, but it is where the affordable diving operators are.
Dahar is the old town at the northern end: the souk, the fish market, the bus station, cheap local restaurants and the closest thing to everyday Egypt in the city.
The Marina at the southern end is the polished version: a promenade of restaurants and cafés along the yacht moorings, best in the evening, and the pleasantest place in town for a long dinner. Further south again are the self-contained hotel zones of Sahl Hasheesh and Makadi, which are resorts rather than parts of the city at all.
