The arrival of a ship in the port of Massawa, one of the most important of the Red Sea, was always an event. It was enough that any merchant to anchor next to the dock, as he was familiarly called promenade Umberto I, because dozens of people crowd on the pier, jostle to win the front row next to the runway.
The faster you get the kids were Eritreans, seeking a piece of luggage to carry to the nearest hotel in exchange for a few cents. Then it was the turn of the water sellers and Arab traders, and within a few minutes they approached the shore the Italians, from customs inspectors, who were off kicked between urchins and porters in the port.
When he docked from Genoa on the Italian company Transatlantic Postal swift or the monthly Lloyd steamship, the wait was becoming frantic. The ship was still engaged in operations in the port of entry and was preparing to pass the cape of Abd el Cader, towards the docks Salvago Rays and Regina Elena, but already the boardwalk was teeming with people.
You saw the soldiers waiting to rush of mail, messenger of the colonial office that the officer on duty expected from Italy, while the factotum of the city hotels - the Grand Hotel to the Savoy, to the more modest and Ghedém Manetti - peering raptors such as the passengers disembarking from the ship, looking for clients.
dockside There is also the usual dozen idlers, who strolled lazily up and down the pier. For the most part were people who lived by small trades on the edge of the law. Some had moved to East Africa the age-old profession of pimp and careless of glances were leaving the dock for taking women by the arm and the heavy makeup look malicious. So, just to do a little 'advertisement of the merchandise.
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