Do you miss Egypt, which I knew as a child and a boy?Do you crave the smell of jasmine blowing from the gardens of old houses on the quiet sub streets? The smell of hot bread from the old ovens? And the smell of mud land after the rain sinks? The smell of incense in ancient mosques, and the smell of perfumery in narrow alleys? Fragrant history and events in wet old walls? And the tang of musk of the cloaks of the gouache? And the smell of fresh mango fruits? All this brotherly friend, you can call him ... the smell of EgyptDo you like the taste of fresh mint tea made on a rake of fire on top of a green field? And the taste of roasted maize on the firewood? And the taste of dandelion water from the hands of dervishes? And the taste of grilled potatoes on the Alexandria Sea in the winter? And taste the loaf of hot municipal bread, immersed in fresh cream and citrus honey? All this, my friend, you can call it the taste of Egypt