Another Turquoise Morning

From the sea wall of Alexandria . . . 11am

The flotsam and jetsam bobble on the waves a few metres out from where they break onto the rocks at the base of the sea wall.  A light turquoise-hued spray dabs my dangling ankles like a splash of the Mediterranean's most refreshing of perfumes.

Looking around the scallop-shaped corniche one can see the line of original facades, all five or six stories high, fronted by feathered palms complimenting the finery of the shutter slats which cross and close their windows.   Antique watercolours spring to mind as one contemplates the view - no artist could ever have walked past without pausing to sit on the sea wall and capture the scene.

Now, behind that seafront building line, a host of giant onlookers mass together seemingly determined to elbow their way in on the turquoise view . . . twenty-story office blocks, ministries, hospitals and apartment buildings. The front row is not for moving, not yet anyway. It's buildings stand their ground, shoulder to shoulder, preserving the past.

The architecture of Belle Époque Alexandria still provides the frame for the everyday lives that evolve in, before and around it.   It ennobles the daily happenings, lending beauty and grace as well as provenance.  It gives a sense that everyone has a place in the history of this city which builds day by day, each person contributing their bit just as their forebears did.    

The Alexandria story began long before the Corniche was developed and will continue long after it has disappeared but remnants of it will persist, not only in faded picture frames but also in the hearts - pumping or turned to dust - of those who had the good fortune to play out their lives between its glories and the turquoise sea.


For the record, extras of The Cecil Hotel, it's ancient lift with Dd descending behind, donkey and cart.