I awake well in advance of my 6am bus to Cairo. Despite the erroneous directions of my hostel's chef (one of the myriad Mohammeds I meet in Egypt), whose ponderous and distracted style of speech makes him appear permanently stoned, I successfully find and board the bus. I plonk myself down next to an American girl, A, not out of any great desire to converse with another traveller at my least alert hour of the day, but because I suspect that she, being female, would probably prefer me next to her, even in my dishevelled state, than one of the many
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