I blame the Egyptians

 

My inner-blogger, first activated to my great surprise five years ago, is experiencing its first existential crisis. Yes, I know I have posted only twice (and very lightly) since coming back from Alexandria two weeks ago - and only twice while I was there. I have had emails and calls checking if I am still alive.

Can I continue to blame the Egyptians? Yes, I think so. For the fifteen days that I was in the city of the Ptolemies the place was merely tense and touchy after the Christmas church bombing. Since then I have had that nasty feeling for a journalist of not being where I ought to be. I have been watching too much Al Jazeera and, although I was in Alexandria for wholly classical reasons, nothing to do with journalism or politics at all, it still feels odd to be back in the UK when so much is happening in the city whose ancient rulers, almost all of them, saw as natural home of riot and revolt.

Alexandrians, for example, were famed for abusing Roman emperors - and for enduring a good deal of oppressive architecture in return (see pic). Alexandrians gave a very nasty fright to Julius Caesar in the mini-war that followed his first meeting with Cleopatra. 'Barely abject at one extreme, rashly foolhardy at the other' was the verdict on his fellows of the city's pioneer novelist Achilles Tatius. None of that comment is of any relevance for journalism, or even blogging, but it sets up a kind of angst all the same.

On Monday evening I broke away for a while to hand over our annual translation prizes - to all the winner bar the one besieged in Cairo.

Last night I saw the wonderfully distracting new film of Brighton Rock, a vivid account, inter alia, of the bad things that can happen under cover of riot.

Next week, I'm hoping that calm both in Egypt and closer to home will be restored.