Where the World Is Cheering for Egypt & Morocco

Football has a way of redrawing the map. For 90 minutes, a side street in Berlin or a market corner in Sydney stops being a side street or a market corner and becomes, briefly, an extension of Casablanca or Cairo. That feeling is especially charged right now, with both Morocco and Egypt carrying their runs deep into the knockout rounds of the 2026 FIFA World Cup in the United States, Mexico, and Canada. But the real stadiums in these moments are cafés, tea houses, and commercial strips built by decades of migration - places where a flag going up on a balcony means more than decoration, and where a missed penalty can be felt through a wall. Across eight global cities, here is where to get a taste of that football feeling. London - Edgware Road There is no quiet way to watch a match on Edgware Road. The strip has long served as a late-night home for Egyptian, Lebanese and Moroccan communities, its cafés staying lit well past midnight regardless of kick-off time. When Egypt plays, the crowd tends to settle in at Egyptian/Mediterranean restaurant Shishawi, packed tight around the screens, before the real reckoning happens outside: a walk toward Marble Arch, where flags, horns, and chants take over the road once the final whistle sounds. Berlin - Sonnenallee Sonnenallee doesn't need a specific match to feel alive, but Morocco and Egypt fixtures push it further. Places like Azzam, one of the strip's longest-standing Lebanese restaurants, fill early alongside the avenue's other Middle Eastern spots and hookah bars, television sets angled toward every table. What follows the final whistle is an eruption of flags, drums, and car horns, spreading from the restaurant doors into the street itself, turning Sonnenallee into one of the loudest stretches in the city for the rest of the night. Paris - Boulevard Barbès Barbès operates on its own schedule during a Morocco match. The neighbourhood's North African cafés fill hours before kick-off, and by the second half, movement on the street has effectively stopped. Supporters don't stay contained to the boulevard once the game ends - the crowd tends to push outward, toward Place de la République and occasionally as far as the Champs-Élysées, until a meaningful stretch of central Paris is dressed in red and green. Madrid - Lavapiés The terraces around Plaza de Lavapiés and Calle Argumosa carry the weight of the match long before it starts, tables filling with regulars and newcomers alike. Lavapiés has a small cluster of named Moroccan restaurants such as Al Bahía, La Alhambra, and La Principessa Araba. When the whistle goes, what was contained inside spills out at once - chants, drums, a current of people moving toward Puerta del Sol. Brussels - Rue de Brabant Near Gare du Nord, Rue de Brabant has carried Brussels' Moroccan community for generations, and on match day that history shows. Long-running spots like Café Avenida and Café Al Yamama, along with the restaurant Pasadena, fill with the low hum of Moroccan Arabic and match commentary long before kick-off. Afterward, the celebration rarely stays confined to the strip - it moves into neighbouring Molenbeek, long known as the city's own 'Little Morocco,' until the two areas function as a single, continuous street party. Amsterdam - Javastraat Javastraat's identity has shifted over the years; new espresso bars now sit beside decades-old Moroccan bakeries, but on match day, the older rhythm takes over. Cafés along Javastraat and neighbouring Javaplein keep their doors open so commentary drifts freely onto the street. Milan - Via Padova Via Padova has been one of Milan's most continuously immigrant streets for decades, home to Egyptian and North African restaurants that predate most of the city's newer arrivals. Spots like El Tekkia, an Egyptian restaurant known for its narghile and Arab music nights, and El Jadida, an Arab restaurant and lounge nearby, are where fans tend to gather, the smoke and match commentary blending into one atmosphere. Sydney - Haldon Street Haldon Street, in the heart of Lakemba, is the closest thing Sydney has to a single unbroken Arab commercial strip, its restaurants clustered tightly around the train station. During Egypt or Morocco matches, longstanding spots like Jasmin Lebanese Restaurant and El-Manara Lebanese Restaurant fill past capacity, screens packed shoulder to shoulder.