Cairo's cabbies

I confess to being breathlessly scared on my first couple of cab rides here. Squealing around a corner in a 20-year-old Fiat with a shot suspension, or splitting lanes at high speed with literally 1 inch to spare created high tension. But the more I watched my drivers, it became clear just how skilled they are. They are concentrated, nervy and decisive, and I'm over the initial shock. They honk like a bat uses its radar. They honk because they are bored. They honk to punish other drivers, and to thank them. Hurry up, sundown, the beeping chorus seems to say. It is the holy month of Ramadan, and that first drink of water is still hours away.

In Max Rodenbeck's excellent "Cairo Victorious," he describes a visitor to the city being asked to get out of a taxi. "You had better find another cab," the driver explained. "My horn doesn't work."