CAIRO - May 2012

I'd been suffocating in London, but the moment that hot wind hit my face I felt like I could breathe again, suddenly the world felt full of possibilities again. Taking a deep breath I felt like I was breathing the world in again.I'd forgotten that feeling of ownership of the world that being up at dawn when the world around you is still asleep brings. That feeling of I could do anything, go anywhere, be anybody today. There's also undeniably something about travelling alone in the Middle East that makes me feel so alive.

Having wandered around outside the airport in the sweltering Cairo heat for ten minutes in search of a public bus, I gave in and allowed an airport porter shamelessly moonlighting as middleman for the local taxi drivers to cheerfully lead me to a waiting taxi. The driver greeted him like a long lost brother, deftly handing him a folded note as they embraced and exchanged the usual exaggerated Egyptian greetings, each offering the other a rising number of thousand thanks for inquiring about the health of his family. A final handshake was exchanged and with that we swung out of the car park and on to the road leading out of the airport, but before we had gone more than a few metres we ground to a halt again and the driver jumped out to greet another long lost brother and then they both jumped back in and we sped off toward the dusty Cairo highway.

After ten minutes of telling me what an excellent tour guide his new friend was, and his new friend inquiring about my marital status, I confirmed that I needed neither a tour guide nor a husband, and with that we screeched to a halt on the outskirts of the airport and his new friend jumped out again and we pulled out on to the highway and headed for the city at last.

Having made it abundantly clear that I was not in market for a husband I settled in to enjoy the drive into town, as we crawled up over the congested bridge towards the horizon I was about to learn rule number one of taking a taxi in Cairo: sitting in the front only leads to unsolicited knee stroking and protests of "Whhhhy? Egypt friendly!" when I quickly removed his hand from my knee. I also quickly discovered that my  'Ex-pat hat' as it had affectionately come to be known, was a winner, as with a demure tilt of the head I could ignore the continuing offers of 'friendship' from the driver and quietly take in the city as it slipped by outside the taxi, and without ever having to acknowledge his lustful glances. I was also to learn that any conversation about my clothes initiated by the driver was also a no-go as it unfailingly led to enthusiastic pronouncements of "Veeeeery good quality!" and unashamed boob touching. Suddenly I missed the humorless Eastern Europeans who ferried me to and from The BBC at all hours in the rain and snow of London that now seemed a million miles away. I was also beginning to understand the attraction of the coverage a burka provides and cursing my arrogance at throwing on a pair of crisp white linen shorts and what I'd thought was a fairly modest blouse.

Everything in Cairo seemed easier for Westerners than for Egyptians and considerably easier than at home, queues apparently didn't apply to me, as I was beckoned to the front and asked graciously how they could help me. Everywhere I went people it seemed simply wanted to talk to me, Western women in Cairo were one thing, but a Western woman wondering around on her own with no obvious purpose was, apparently, still quite another. Even the women made cooing noises and then when I smiled at them waved coyly at me, smiling back.

Evidence of last year's revolution was everywhere. Innumerable street still had barbed wire strung across one end as if the army had hastily put it up to contain the crowds of the revolution but has then seen no reason to remove it, rather liking the power these impromptu checkpoint afforded them over the people of Cairo simply trying to go about their day. Endless walls were still daubed with the brave graffiti of the revolution, images urging people not to give up without a fight, the caricatures of authority and the lamentations for those lost in the violent clashes of last year's uprising, names and dates under faces, a reminder of those gone but not forgotten by the city.

The police were every where, in gaggles, standing around in the heat in their heavy black uniforms, and the army too, were on every street corner, standing proudly on top of their tanks, as if every street corner,standing proudly on top of their tanks,  as if watching over the city for even the slightest hint of another uprising. As I crossed one of the barbed wire barricades I looked up to see a sniper looking watchfully down at me from an overhanging balcony. Turning off the main drag I looked down dusty alleys and shady side streets I saw coloured light bulbs draped over-hanging branches and along fences, hinting at a Cairo that comes to life at night, long after the heat of the day has passed.

As the afternoon wore on, having paid considerably less for the pleasure than I usually paid for a cab back from The Kings Road on a Friday night in London, I found myself lounging very happily on the very front of a huge river boat, soaking up the Egyptian sun as I owned it, I cruised down the Nile, with only the chain-smoking captain for company, who stop the engine periodically to point out clearly labelled international hotels along the banks of the enormous river. I felt like as if I was cruising along the Nile of a hundred years ago as we doubled back around Zemalak and the lazy afternoon sun beat down on my face.

As I sat in the back of another taxi plunging at break-neck speed back to the airport, I smiled to myself that it had taken me three attempts with different taxi drivers and some evidently questionable aeroplane arm gestures to make him understand that was I wanted was in fact, out of Cairo. This amused me because I'd spent the day being cheerfully hailed in four languages before they realised that I was in fact as they had initially surmised 'Hey English!', I was just politely ignoring them. If I'd done nothing else in preparation for my trip to Cairo, I really should have taken the time to have learnt the Arabic word for airport!