Could you bellydance with candelabra on your head?
Last night was surreal and spectacular.
Masood and I had the honour of being invited to a huge Egyptian wedding held on the banks of the Nile. Complete with a troupe of bejewelled - but not skin-baring - bellydancers, the bride and groom entered the room to a cacophony of traditional drumbeats and joyful pipes.
The captive guests provided us with a prime Osama-hunting opportunity, but I felt Britishly awkward about going for it. It felt rude to Osama-hunt at a wedding! Luckily, the groom’s brother was very enthusiastic and we struck one.
Only one Osama, however, left me with a sinking feeling. I’m getting worried about numbers, despite having met some cracking characters in Cairo. Then Ramy, our friend, had an idea. He told us that in the summer season when Gulf Arabs visit Cairo, the desert behind the pyramids of Giza is a hotspot of horseriding, dune buggies and general frivolity at the hour of sunrise. So we went to the pyramids at 5am to find some Osamas.
We found three, including our first Saudi, who was applecheeked, cheerful and very positive about the project. The scene was breathtakingly beautiful and intensely dreamlike – I had to pinch myself.
