It’s a case of the morning after the night before in Benghazi, the rebels’ eastern stronghold. The courthouse square filled with people last night, cheering the last moments of Gaddafi’s regime. Others stayed at home to watch events unfold on television. No-one was in bed before 5am.
This morning the streets were quiet. Thousands of shell casings were scattered across the pavement from happy gunfire. And outside my hotel doorway were too battered bullets, which had fallen to earth overnight.