What a privilege it is to be asked by Bobba, the archaeologist/ architect/
archaic grump whom you can’t have a decent swear-free conversation with,
to participate on his site! And yet I can’t find the words to describe Bobba. So
I’ll go back to how we met and perhaps that will help me overcome my
mental blockage (the fact that I’m studying at Cambridge does not mean
that my IQ is spectacular).
It was in Baharia Oasis, in the end of 2002, that I first met Bobba. I was
transcending myself through some discover-the-world, rehash-the-meaning-of-
it-all phase, and he, well…I don’t know what he was doing. On one of those
horrendous 4x4 rides that leave you frazzled and in pain, Bobba’s subtle
humour came through. There was more to this seemingly intellectual,
apparently shy dude than what his initial aura evoked. Indeed, and now that I’
ve known him for more than two years I can authoritatively say that Bobba is
the compulsive (yet sensitive-almost child like in fact) cynicist who
contemplates the woes of the world but rejects to project the image of the
romanticist.
