I had been living in Cairo for a couple of months when I caught wind of a mechanic who specialised in classic British bikes. His name was Zein Hussein and after a bit of sleuthing, an address was procured for his garage. One free afternoon a friend and I took a taxi to a working class suburb called Saiyeda Zeinab to track down Mr Hussein and see what kind of bikes he had.
Like many taxi rides in Cairo, the driver didn’t know exactly where he was going but after a few enquiries shouted out the window to passersby and a bit of vague gesturing on our behalf we settled on a direction and took off. A short time later we spotted the Brookes Animal Hospital which was our cue to leave the cab and continue on foot. We entered a narrow street that smelled of manure and looked around for the garage. We found Zein’s place just around the corner, a small tiled garage barely big enough for a couple of bikes and assorted hardware.