“Revolution First Friday” in Cairo’s Tahrir
“Why do you want to enter the square?” The kid at the makeshift checkpoint at the entrance to Tahrir is, well, a kid, and suspicious that I have only my UK driving licence on me as ID.
“Er, I work over there,” I gesture vaguely across the square.
“You know, like, there.”
“OK, wait here.” He starts moving off, but is distracted by the arrival of a guy carrying a monstrous video camera: an argument ensues about whether he can take it in. Then someone turns up carrying a wooden chair on each shoulder, legs thrusting out at eye level. I’m late for work, and can’t be bothered to argue the toss, so slip away to find a different route.