Back in 1990 weeks before George Bush senior started chucking bombs at Iraq, I spent a Christmas in Alexandria, Egypt. The Egyptians I met were a lovely bunch. Everybody was kind and polite, the people I chatted with around town were interested in where I came from, my family and my plans.

I remember making friends with these guys who ran a bike shop. They let me fix up one of their old bikes and borrow it for a few days. I loved cycling around Alexandria exploring the rutted and muddy backstreet's. Having very little cash I lived on flat bread fresh from the bakeries and bean stew from the street vendors. I found some fascinating museums with oil lanterns of every conceivable style, burning serpents, flaming toes or simple rudimentary oil pots with a hole for the wick. The Catacombs of Kom el Shouqafa beneath the Pompeii Pillar were dark and empty. The mixed up Roman, Greek and Egyptian carvings left over from some presumably secretive pagan sect were intriguing. I loved riding that beaten up old bike, when something broke which it did, often. It was so simple to fix with a bit of twisted wire or string.