Cairo 4 am

I stand on the landing outside our flat in Cairo at 4 o'clock this morning. I don't have a key so I've just texted Dd who is asleep deep in the flat's interior to say I'm here - ringing the bell would wake up her co-tutor with whom she shares the flat. It's exactly twenty-two hours since I woke up in Barcelona and started my helter-skelter of early morning activities to do what I had to do before leaving for this twenty-day trip.

There's always something magical about standing on this spot with the trip behind me. I listen intently for a sound, any sound, to indicate that Dd has heard the text and is making her way to the door. There it is, a faint footstep . . . the click of the lock as the key turns and then a shadowy smile on an upturned sleepy face. 'Come in,' she says and I do, gladly.