Cairo, Egypt. 1986.
Enough guns already. Here’s me cradling the white dove of peace in the Middle East.
OK, maybe not the dove of peace. But the prize bird of this pigeon-fancier in the old part of Cairo. He spotted me watching him calling his birds home at the end of the day and motioned for me to come up. We shared tea on his roof top as the sun set, the call to prayer wafted from a hundred minarets and his pigeons fluttered back after a hard day of avoiding being eaten.
My dodgy Pat Cash mullet is a bit of a worry. But hey, it was the ’80s.
This is where you'll find everything you need to know about me and my books.
as the Beatles would hopefully think on this line…”all ya need is DOVE, DOVE, DOVE is all you need” lol
The soap?
Nothing wrong with the mullet Peter; the jumper your granny knitted you is far worse! The pigeon-fancier is wearing one too.
Just enjoying Vroom by the Sea at the moment (just up to where you were in Nuoro) – great stuff……
I bought that jumper in Athens en route. Got off the plane from Oz and nearly froze my bollocks off. Didn’t realise it could get so cold in Greece or Egypt, even in January. Oh the naivete!
I noticed the dodgy jumper before the mullet. Kind of a semi-mullet though. Nice story Peter!
OK. Enough about the jumper already. It took me years of therapy to get over the stick I got from the other backpackers I met in Egypt.
I was cold. I bought the warmest looking jumper I could find. I wore it.