The Asian kid next to me is dressed like he owns Facebook: jeans and Kenzo jacket. He’s drinking Corona, smoking a fag and jerking spastically as he plays with his hand-held games console, the smoke forces him to squint as he plays, moving his head to one side but still jerking his hands in response to the fast-moving LCD.
It’s dark, oddly ‘70s, seedy, all browns and beiges: a Bisto ‘aaahhh’ of grey smoke curling through the air.
The call to prayer sounds over the tannoy, but for Prince it’s still 1999. The Khaleeji guy is grinning like a maniac: “Brinze! Brinze! Kuweiss!” he calls out to his reluctant audience of Keralite and Sudani guys.
The South Africans are talking about piling systems.
I love the bar at Bahrain International Airport.