Century-old cafes witness the future of Egypt and Cairo

Red-brown wooden doors and windows, neat and warm red-and-white checked tablecloths-Riche Cafe, built in 1908, has spent 103 years in Tahrir Square in the center of Cairo, Egypt.

In the turmoil ahead of egypt's parliamentary elections, the once-bustling city centre has fallen into depression again. Most shops are closed again, except for this cafe on the corner, whose windows emit soft yellow lights. It is here that Nobel Prize winner Najib Mahafoz, a decades-old customer, drinks coffee with his literary friends, observes life, discusses current events and witnesses the rise and fall of history.

A few days ago, the reporter came to the cafe again. There was no reception desk or payment desk when he entered the door. It was an office desk. Magazines, notes, pen containers and leaflets were spread all over the table. Old yellow old books overlapped with new books with ink fragrance, crumbling on the bookshelf behind him. The owner, Mr. Majid, declined an interview with reporters a year ago. The kind-hearted waiter explained quietly that the nearby Pyramid newspaper, journalists 'association and other buildings are lined up, and many influential literati come and go every day. The shopkeeper does not want this to become a lively place for "ignorant tourists" to rest.

On the floor of the inner hall leading to the kitchen, there was a narrow spiral staircase. Down the stairs, there was a small bar transformed from a strip basement of less than 20 square meters, but there were no customers inside. An Egyptian friend named Abbas led the reporter to the bar at the end of the bar. The wine rack against the wall was filled with vodka, gin and other wines. Abbas gently pushed the middle grid, and the wine rack turned. Inside, it was a small secret room with stairs leading to the ground.

Abbas said that in 1919, during the fight against British colonists, students who translated foreign literature and made anti-British leaflets were frequently hunted down, and the underground warehouse of the cafe became a temporary printing room and safe haven. Before the electricity was on, the students worked in claustrophobic spaces lit by candles, the stairs in the halls covered by tables, and the secret staircases used as escape routes.

After the revolution, the basement fell silent for decades. It wasn't until the 1990s that it was transformed into what it is today. Abbas said that in the past 20 years, whenever friends in the cultural circle published important works, everyone gathered here to celebrate and sign, but it has not been open to the public.

As I trudged back up the stairs to the cafe's main hall, I recounted my experience of being turned away a year ago. Abbas smiled and pulled up a chair for me."It's not like 'ignorant tourists' come to Tahrir Square at this time," he said. He looked around and introduced the old gentleman with the red fedora and goatee sitting alone in the corner of the cafe as the writer who had returned from France; the middle-aged man in the dark brown jacket who was surrounded by everyone and looked solemn; the famous media man who owned two newspapers; and the British plastic artist who had come to collect wind and the German teacher who had lived here for a long time.

Young people shuttled between tables, whispering and laughing over strong Turkish coffee and Arabic tea. From time to time, the guests present talked about the same topic-the demonstrations in Tahrir Square.

When the reporter left, he noticed dozens of black-and-white photos outside the window, recording Tahrir Square at different times outside the cafe window for more than 100 years. There is a hope in the reporter's heart: no matter how things change, this historic and culturally rich cafe will open normally every day to welcome visitors from all directions and witness the future of Egypt and Cairo.