Sitting in the tiny coffee shop no bigger than an average size bathroom, the old man was sitting opposite me, it was December and cold outside, the shop door had been pulled shut, the old man didn’t seem too interested in the foreigner sitting an arms length in front of him, I on the other hand was drawn to him, a thousand and one years of Egyptian history seemed to be written into his face, with two cameras hanging from my neck my intentions must have seemed pretty obvious, I raised one and smiled, looking for permission, a nod of reluctant approval, the old man faced me and I clicked in the dull light of the fluorescent tube, he looked away as the door opened and I clicked again.