3
WE WALKED THROUGH the main street, full of people having finished work at this time of the day, shopping at the little food stalls that spread a wonderful smell through the streets.
Groups of people streamed out of the airport building, talking and carrying bags. An army of young men with carts waited at the entrance, a highly organised fleet of motorised rickshaws that would take visitors with a lot of luggage to the guesthouses, their private accommodation or either of the two nearby railway stations that were not attached to the main building.
We walked along the fence to one of those stations, situated at the end of the jetty below the airport. It was hot here, and air shimmered above the paving.
The tarmac on the other side of the fence was a hive of activity. Gamra traffic had
