t was the first real flight in my life, and the destination was the one I've always been looking for, with swinging results, in those years: the search of emotions.

Didn't matter where, how or why: I was sitting in the sky of my fantasy, thrown into an adventure started by boarding on that plane, and then drown over in my mind with the numberless colours of the imagination.

The naked truth was that, in the early '70, the crisis between Egypt and Israel had caused the Suez channel closing, with serious repercussions in the traffic of big oil-tankers used in petrol shipping to the Mediterranean countries. In order to remedy for this calamity a pipeline pumping the precious fluid, over 300 kilometres long, from Red Sea to “Mare Nostrum” was planned.

Huge tanks to stock it in were built at the gates of Alexandria ; from there, through a submarine conduit, arrived up to the gigantic ships anchored to the open sea; in that very site, amid blinding white salt sands, under an unpitiful sun rays, but with the enthusiasm for my first big professional experience, my Egyptian adventure would have course.

The old hotel we were lodged in had been rearranged near Agamy, a tourist village located about twenty miles west from the city: it was facing a sandy shore filled, from May to October, with noisy and choreographic bathers leaving the chaotic metropolis to come and recreate a chaotic feast-loving atmosphere on those beaches.

Egypt people's nature owns a foaming and extremely contagious vitality: after some irritated adaptation days I started feeling myself involved in that joy of living every single moment, in happiness. Moreover, after gone away, they used to leave on the sand their passage tracks, so I could have the chance to transform myself in a dustman and clean the place from bottle caps spangled on it.

The hotel administrator was unfortunately new to that job, merely attracted by the chance of growing rich at our Firm expense, since it entrusted us to his “cares”, therefore hygienic conditions were unsatisfactory at all: behind my bed-head lived a whole “barambara” family, big disgusting brown coloured flying beetles that reluctantly adapted themselves to my presence; moreover, if the scarab was a good luck symbol to the ancient Egyptians, these insects could be considered as a welcome present…

Stray dogs hordes, at dawn and sunset, used to complete the cleaning work I had begun, and their ravenous look was everything but reassuring. Then, once a month, gun-equipped horse-soldiers rode there to free the place from those voracious animals, but, as a result, numberless fleas inhabiting their coat migrated to our rooms in new hosts search. But - Good can come from evil! - wise men say: due to abundant insecticides consequent use I found an historical (to us) crown cap sealing a DDT bottle.

But the best surprise was the discovering of Alexandria city: extended tens of miles along the coast, wide streets and narrow alleys crossing each other, brand new cars and travelling old crocks scouring them zigzagging and honking among ass-hauled barrows; the buses circulated with no passengers inside, but clusters of people were hanging one upon the other at the doors, ready to jump down, once at destination, without the driver would need to stop its trip, and saving moreover the whole ticket fare.

The city was still carrying the wounds of the war just left behind: walls erected as house doors protection, some defensive stationing equipped with machine-guns and fighting trim soldiers, military means transit and check points, but all that wasn't enough anyway to suffocate the joy you could breath everywhere.

People's vitality, there, was expressed by an endless swarming on the sidewalks and the roads, meanly in the late evening up to the deep night, and, among nice various styled buildings, there were a lot of multicoloured stalls, as far as the eye could see.

Yes, precisely, the stalls themselves were the wonderful discover: everything was sold there, the most unsaleable as well, photo cameras to medicine, food or shoes, but especially bottles!

Its harbour great commercial importance made goods arrive from worldwide to those open air markets, and just strolling among the booths I fount beers and beverages from very far nations and small countries whose caps I'd never think to own in my life!

That place immediately become my off duty usual destination, and I always came back having fount something new: I often bought six beers packs and, after dried them, I only kept the crown in better conditions, of course, throwing its equals away, ignoring how many collectors I'd have displeased in the future…but, after all, now I own some unique pieces consoling me for the many lost trades!

My raids to the city weren't only aimed at increasing my collection, naturally: the local beauties, with their exotic glances, attracted since the first instant my attention, and, at last, after months of unsuccessful attempts, at the Ramadan ending, I succeeded in knowing some pretty girl student to keep me company, even if inside thousands of subterfuges.

This happened in October. I was loving Egypt more and more, deeply integrated, finally, in very agreeable intrigues, dining in the excellent restaurants in Abukir (in that bay Horatio Nelson loved to sail by his yacht…), in beautiful girls' company, or riding across the Country to discovery its marvels.

Too good to be true: at the beginning of November, in fact, they brought me the communication that I was about to be transferred to a new working site… The initial disappointment vanished gradually to thrilling thoughts about the new side of world, next to show me its “out of Arabian nights” crowns.

- Game over, beloved maidens, my work is going to be unfinished, but Iran is waiting for me! -

Lorenzo