Cairo, 6am



A smoker’s lounge at Cairo International turns multi-cultural hang-out as the pale disk of the sun rises above the eternal sands beyond the runways. No matter how I stretch at the bull´s eye windows, I can´t see the pyramids, but  know they´re out there. Young women in mini-skirts and tank-tops on the way home from their holidays in Asia exchange clouds of smoke with Bedouins and Egyptian business men in sharp suits – Marlboros and cheap plastic lighters serve as inadvertent communication tools. The more brash and semi-clad the girls, the more fascinated and repulsed the men. But these worlds collide in an amiable enough manner – in the smoker’s lounge at Terminal Three, Cairo International, the world is big enough to bridge the cultural trenches.

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