Fifty shades of Blue, Green, Red and Yellow

It is not selfish to be happy; it is natural.
No one has all the answers. Or we would be God.  

Seeing my brother and his lady, Soltan, and Tuba leave was sad. But all good things come to an end, and then... There will be other beginnings! Families are great when they are 'great', but goodness when there are misunderstandings, stubbornness sets in. Hell breaks loose.  

What makes a relationship work? Of any kind. Willingness to feel sympathy and kindness towards the other and what happens when the other does not respond? Well, it does take two to tango.  

I miss sitting next to my grandma, dressed in her lightly floral cotton nightdress and short-sleeved ensemble. Listening to her wisdom and great advice made me feel the world was safe and everything would work out. 'God willing, everything is going to be alright.' Whenever anyone she knew rang the doorbell of the single-storey house, if we were eating, she would simply ask her life-long staff, who had all become part of the family:

"Bring out new plates and extend the dinner table immediately; we've guests."
She was the listening ear for anyone troubled in the neighbourhood or amongst her many friends, who visited the house regularly. It is a shame that, as time passes year-by-year and technology 'improves', families get separated and having multiple nationalities is a norm. Having the knowledge and wisdom of elders in our daily lives is scarce. When trouble arose in a family, it would always be the kind aunt, the understanding uncle, or the listening ear of grandma or grandpa, and their love would carry the younger generation through their troublesome lives. And now, who do we go to when needing advice and sympathy?

Living in London can feel lonely for those who keep to themselves, sometimes as a choice but a routine.

Enough heart to heart...  

'The' book of the moment seems to be 'Fifty Shades of Grey'. Is there anyone in this world who hasn't at least heard about it? My attempt to read the book comprehensively failed. The 139 pages I managed were amusing, but I somehow lost interest in reading further. I presume it was the modern-day version of 'Pride and Prejudice'. It is all relative; Mr Darcy has been replaced with Christian Gray. The charming manners of Fitzwilliam Darcy, the aloof romantic hero, also 28 years of age, with an income exceeding £10,000 a year, which was a significant figure for the Victorian times, and his certain arrogance has now been made modern! Modern Art, Modern Darcy. It simply portrays how the world has changed in terms of sexuality and the openness of it all. In my youth, no one would even hear the word 'shut up' on the BBC and now 'fuck' is all over the place! To put it crudely, yet frankly.

The question arises... 'What is a good book?' One that entertains. No?  

However, reading the beginning of it reminded me of a story that happened a while back. To me, of course.
My meeting with Graham took place through a masseuse I had at home. Mr Gray, Graham?!? How weird. Melinda (my masseuse of the time) said in broken English:
"Haldita, why you don't have a 'boyfriend'?"
The question had arisen so many times it did not surprise me. So, I answered:
"Melinda, it's not that easy meeting someone as free-spirited as I am. I don't want a boyfriend for the sake of having one. As much as I'd love to meet someone who understood me."
"Well," she continued. "I know someone similar to you. He's very nice, I think you'll like him. Veeeeery nice." She repeated.
"Really?!"  My expression was doubtful.
"Yes," she continued, "He was telling me he's looking for a life partner. So sorry, Haldita, but I talked about you to him, and he's interested in contacting and meeting you if you're."
Mmm...  

With the agreement of both parties, we conversed on the phone for the first time. Graham's voice was manly, solid and firm, with a hint of a smile coming through the words; he began:
"Hello, Haldita; I presume you know who I'm."
"Well, yes, hello Graham," I said rather flirtatiously.
After a short chitter chatter, Graham's voice became a little more serious as he continued in that same masterly manner:
"I'm pretty sure you understand the true role of a male companion in life, and you will follow my commands and accept my role as your master from now on."
I was not sure how to react to that; a few years had passed since I obeyed any man in any way. He sounded extremely convincing, making things more a matter of intrigue than disgust. So I explained:
"Graham, nothing near this has happened to me, and honestly, I've no idea how I will respond."

His perseverance in trying to convince me that I would come to accept the physical pain from the lashes of his whips threw me off-guard! But I decided to play along his 'game'. Life would be dull without new experiences, proper? In all frankness, I did not feel threatened by this man in any way for a moment. He seemed to be in his particular bubble of a world, playing some game to amuse his time on earth; the only problem was that he seemed to be playing the role of the devil, Lucifer himself.

Graham would text me a few times a day from around the world, where he held conferences. He would call with new ideas of making me obey him as 'my master'. I did not consider this too seriously but continued with the idea. This high-flyer with an authoritative voice, a man who knew what he wanted and would do his utmost to get it. And so, finally, the day of the meeting arrived. His orders were:
"Now listen, Haldita. I'd like you to wear a simple white shirt, a short black skirt, stockings, black patent stilettos and red lipstick. Oh! Don't forget the big white knickers from M&S." Sooooooo, not my style!

It was a warm day in June, and I was meeting him at his house, sharply at 2:00pm, he had commanded. 'Sharply' did not become me, so I arrived fifteen minutes late! Graham showed patience; it would not have been wise to get upset over a few minutes delay at a first meeting with all his demanding requests. Dressed like an absolute tart (at least I sure thought so), driving around, the only parking space was two roads down from where he lived. Had purchased the white shirt from Zara, as 'the' Master had ordered (true), plus those patent black stilettos from Office (how could I? I mean, really?!), which shone brightly under the 25-degree heat of sunshine. Hid the bright red lipstick under the curls of my hair, almost covering my face. Began sweating under the long, black raincoat to cover the slutty look, lingering in the oversized shoes, which only came apparent as worn for the first time that day. My walk of shame on that bright, sunny afternoon, trying to avoid the builders working on my path by moving to the other side of the street, made me laugh at myself as I finally managed to get to the door of the house in the backstreet of a 'posh' residential area. 
Oooooff!

I checked on my mobile, and a text from Graham beeped these words:
'Push the front door open and come up the stairs; leave your belongings on the first floor; come up to meet me on the second floor.'
I don't take orders from anyone; it's not my style, but hey, in the name of 'curiosity about human behaviour', I still played along. This was my questioning someone else's behaviour and my own. How do we react when faced with a situation alien to us? Every experience makes life more enriched with wisdom and knowledge. Knowledge is not simply knowing facts and learning names to impress; it is understanding how the universe works and how we can let go of unnecessary thoughts which cause us pain and allow space for change and the excitement of learning.

Am I mumbling again?!  
And so, I did as Graham ordered and went up to see an indeed charismatic character, salt and pepper hair, strong in features in the face as in physique, dressed in what looked like a long-tailed, pin-striped jacket, well-pressed trousers and elegantly tasselled black shoes, even his socks were thin and in good taste. You remember the red pochette and Hermes tie-to-match. The dry smile on his surprisingly luscious lips gave away a sign of satisfaction in seeing me. Must admit the man was totally fanciable but rather demanding from the start! 
G said firmly: "Do you mind standing before me while I talk to you?"
I thought, seriously? Must have been trying to hide a smile when I answered:
"Well, these heels are kind of killing my feet, and they turned out to be far too big! Do you really want me to stand up?"
Did the womanly approach have any effect on 'the' Master? Nope.
"Please understand," he continued, "this is serious Haldita. This is how we play; you'll take me as your Master and obey me. You'll take lashes if you're not obedient."
At the sound of the word lashes, I looked at a wooden coffee table across the room, covered by different whips, almost deliberately left on display in a row! WTF! The Master is a collector... Of whips! Straw ones, leather ones he probably uses on his horse's arse too. Interesting.

I interrupted him immediately before he got any more ideas: "Mmm... Graham, I think I must clarify here: I'm absolutely not into pain, not in my brain and certainly not in this body."
Was the man even listening?! He continued, with that same dry smile:
"I'm not a jealous man. In fact, I want you to flirt with other men when we're on holiday on the beach, but then you must understand, I'll punish you with my whip."
It seemed my input was of no importance, so I let him stay in his reverie and watched with a flick of eyelids in the air as he went on:
"Yes, I want you to return to the beach the following day with the whiplash marks in full view from under your bikini bottoms, being proud they came from me."
WTFH... And that stands for 'what the fucking hell'. I almost burst out in laughter but still controlled myself somewhat.
Finally, I broke out: "Now, Graham. This is not going to work. I think we're on a different page! I've done everything to get away from any kind of bullying, hurt or pain. I've created a world of love and happiness, being kind to one another and thinking positively around myself and no one... And I mean, no one will be allowed to jeopardise that.
Graham looked a little shaken, only momentarily and still made a last plea:
"Haldita, I know this may sound harsh to you, but I feel you will return and beg me to be your Master. Just go and think about it."

I left his house somewhat bewildered, dishevelled in the brain, dressed in that overcoat and the worst shoes these feet had ever stepped in, worse in every way. In deep thought, I paddled along to my car, immune to the world outside. How could there be people who so openly enjoy and thrive on other people's pain and, possibly, misery?! At what stage do people decide enough is enough? I cut the connection with G after he finally understood I was no muse for him to practice on. But as all good stories have an exciting ending, let me tell you, that was the first I heard of Graham... In fact, a year later, I had a text from him, which I answered generally with kind words.

He then called and said:
"Haldita, I know you'll come to understand me one day. It's a matter of time. I'm a patient man. But I've a great proposal for you."
"Yeeeees Graham?" Was my questioning tone.
"I've two twins in their early twenties, blonde and beautiful; they need money and have agreed to be whipped in exchange for a good sum of cash."
OML. How could he even think I would have the slightest interest in taking part in such mischief?  
So, I said: "I've an idea, G. Why don't I watch the girls beat you up? You mentioned humiliation; why don't they humiliate you before me? Now, that could work for me. What do you say?"
Of course, his pride could not allow him to refuse straight away, so he asked in a puzzle:
"Really Haldita? Would that thrill you? To have me whipped by the girls?"  
I was almost beginning to enjoy the thought: "Would you object to that? Why don't you even order me to beat you up hard till I leave the marks on your sore bottom? Would that feel good?"  
"Oh! You can still be the Master!" I added.
Although he did not seem convinced, he followed my idea. On second thoughts, I knew I wouldn't want to hurt anyone. A fly? Yes, have killed a few in my time. 
For the final time, I insisted:
"Graham. Please don't contact me ever again. If possible, I aim to make people around me happy and bring them joy. I also know that asking you to change your ways will not make a difference, so I'll keep quiet but sad. Pain is not my game, for sure. Goodbye."
First thing I did... I took those brand-new black patent stilettos straight to the first charity shop I passed by and dumped them out of sight.

Well, that was an experience I had thought to keep to myself, but here is another mad story in my life on these pages, which, from past to present, may it continue, from present to eternity.

To be able to show love is the highest form of art. 
To be able to live life fully... It's not about it being black and white, nor just grey.  
Life is a rainbow of shades of Blue, Green, Red and Yellow!  
Bring colour into your being.

Olympics... Loving August in London!

To be beautiful is to be yourself.   
Old enough to know better... Young enough to throw caution to the wind.

We are here to experience life as a train
Traveling through a track of winding Paths
Tolerating the temperatures; come sun, come snow
Carrying passengers of every race and colour
Traversing through tunnels of darkness
To get to the light awaiting at the other end
Not knowing how each journey may terminate
But understanding life is not a station
Standing still emotionless for years to pass
Letting the adventures weather us
Take the wind as a breeze
Life is impeccable as it is
And we are only here to learn

If my mother read this, her comment would be, do you call this a poem? She would always make her opinion clear, especially about music and poetry, to which her ears have been thoroughly fed with the best of since childhood in her father's home. How I reminisce on those good old days, as a child, so carefree, running around the garden of cherry trees back at home, the sight of the neighbour's son swimming in their pool, seen from the corridor running along the bedrooms on the first floor of our house. The layout of floral gilded Louis furniture in the off-white tapestry fabric, decorated by pastel coloured flowers in our 'salon' as the French would say. Those magnificent silk carpets my father collected, laid in large to decorate the marble floors of our living room, made for the many parties my parents gave, with musicians and singers entertaining their glamorous guests throughout the long night. My mother's grand royal, cream Yamaha piano, which she played magnificently with her perfectly manicured, red nails and the innocence that came naturally as a child. 

Goodness, I drifted there to a world so many decades ago that will never return. But then, there is change, life and experience, and growth. Would I ever want to change my life with anyone in this world? Would I want to be in my twenties again? Even with all the wisdom I have accumulated over the years? No way. Acceptance is necessary at every stage of life.  
I am here because I am meant to be here, and that is just fine.
One thing I have noticed going out with such a variety of people is that the most beautiful have been the ones with the biggest hearts, who do not need acceptance by others but make the most of what they have. When you want the best for others, life throws you the best imaginable. If you are questioning this in any way, then think again. Are you really wishing for the best for absolutely everyone? Even those who have hurt you?
Buddha said: 'Forgive and be free. Forget that you have forgiven and be freer'. 

Returning to London after a blissful holiday in Greece at sea, there was a feeling of celebration. The Olympics were on, of course, and conversations of gold and silver medals were in full swing around any table, over drinks or dinner.
After a first night's rest, the second was an invite by the Queen of putting people together: Aisha, who had texted me to meet her, Pedro and seven others at Cantina's show in the Southbank, close to the London Eye. 

I followed orders to go to friends', living nearby and taking a cab.
Having caught a golden tan from the reflection of the sun upon the Aegean sea, I decided to wear the fitted Dolce & Gabbana silk, satiny dress of a silvery/gold shade which showed all the proper bumps as it should, bought in some outlet in New York at a fraction of the original price, ensemble with a patent greyish/cream sandals, so Marilyn Monroe-like, from Paris. Why not! Add a little shopping experience to the scene.
At the friend's house, one of the girls got me to try 'just a puff' of the new legal joint she had purchased recently. Boy, the spliff hit me somewhat strongly, but there was no time to give it much thought. We had to leave as the cab was waiting outside the house. Visiting the cloakroom before our departure, I looked in the mirror of the dark marbled space, checked out my newly straightened haircut, the dark bronzed tan shining covered with cream plus that over-developed dress I was wearing, and all I could see was Queen Latifa! What had I smoked?!
When I made it outside to leave, I shared my views with the three route companions. One of the girls tried to explain that my comment was invalid, although she loved Queen Latifa. I knew exactly where she was going with that; Queen Latifa is probably ample for skinny ladies! Meanwhile, our male friend clicked and said, laughingly:
"Hahaha ... I just realised what you said, Haldita.  Queen Latifa! Great. I love you."
And I explained to my girlfriend: "Darling, I was only paying myself a huge compliment. I absolutely adore Queen Latifa! She's super sexy."
To which comment did she change the subject, a little embarrassed. But I understand how our world now is complex about being 'slim', and she was only trying to be excellent. 

Once settled at the round table with circular seating of ten, thank goodness the show went on for a short time, for approximately one hour. The great reviews of 'stunning acrobatic skills' may well be true, but 'jaw-dropping', 'mind-blowing' and 'erotic manoeuvres' were a little bit of an exaggeration, in my opinion. Or it wasn't my thing. Anyway, I was glad when it was over, and as Delara was not keen on the Arts Club, Aisha suggested we dined at Bodega Negra's trendy setting in Soho, so Pedro agreed and made the booking for ten.

Little did I know what experience awaited me only a few minutes later.
As we settled around the circular table and the tapas-like Mexican dishes were ordered to share, Lara mentioned the new 'legal' weed she had smoked part of before leaving home and whether I cared to join her for a few puffs outside. Needless to say, I followed her up the stairs and into Soho's semi-busy back streets for a chat and smoke. Literally, after two puffs at the 'legal' stuff, my whole world turned upside down and I told Lara:
"I don't think I can make it downstairs. What the heck was that thing we smoked? Legal my ass!"
Lara had no choice but to be firm: "Com' on Haldita.  Just follow me down. You can do it. Do you think I am not paranoid?"
There really was no choice but to listen to the wise words of my new buddy. We had known each other from a trip abroad years ago and bumped into one another on several occasions around the world but had yet to connect to the extent of that evening.
Once, back at the table (somehow, I cannot quite recall how), I sat there, not knowing what had hit me so hard. In that cave of a basement, I felt my world was about to end. Yet, it was like they say, 'your life flashes before your eyes'. This is what was going through my mind ...
'Oh, my Lord! I'm looking around me; all I can see is so Surreal. This IS My Life. Wow. Who would have thought ten or twelve years ago that I would be among the coolest, loveliest, amazing people around me everywhere? How could I have even imagined this? This is beyond any fantasy I could have thought possible.'
At this time, a dear friend's husband, Sohi, asked:
"Haldita, where were you? Did you smoke that legal stuff?"
I simply answered, semi-conscious in this world: "Yap. What the heck was that?"
He said in sympathy: "Didn't I tell you not to smoke that? Not here."
I said helplessly: "Too fuckin' late now! It's done. I'm in gaga-land."
Sohi was concerned but comforted me by saying: "I'm here if you need me. Watching you."
Delara took her seat next to me at one stage and tried to force-feed me:
"Eat Haldita.  People may get suspicious of your behaviour. Act normal!"

Really?! Like most other moments of my life, I could not care the least about what anyone could have thought at that moment. I looked at Kristel across the table; her warming eyes were reassuring. Three times, I became only semi-conscious of my existence. Each time, I saw my life almost end. It was a matter of closing my eyes and letting go into the other world, as we didn't know it. Then all I thought was: 
'Are you crazy girl? This is a while. There is a lot more to be said, and there is a duty I haven't fulfilled in this world. I haven't come this far to let go of life that easily! God knows I've lived it to the fullest, learned many lessons, and am still young enough to have many more years ahead of me. I write a blog, for goodness sake.'
  I have no idea how long my imagination had drifted to those thoughts, but they were real, and I remember them well.  
Once back on track, in the 'Real' or always my 'Surreal' world, we moved from the restaurant to the bar, where many incredible people were hanging out and drinking. Some from our group left, and the rest of us mingled and gently moved to the DJ playing music.
A very tall Latino man, Rafael, approached us with a friend and began a conversation with Lara and me, then moved on to talking to Sohi. He was in London for a week, taking part in the Olympics. The return to earth left me in a great mood, 'Nanoo Nanoo, ' chatting with guys on every side of our crowd; I was so glad to be alive again.  
Sabela told me: "Hey girlfriend. You're too hot to trot tonight!"
Everything and everyone made me smile, and I was on cloud nine. Or is there one going higher? As in Cloud Ten.
It was great fun having a boogie with Aisha and Pedro and having our usual laughs. They are in Mykonos now, where I have spent a few summers with them and their entourage, and I think of them often, reminiscing on my time there.  

Anyway, back to that adventurous evening. The leftovers of us ended up at Lara's apartment, accompanied by Rafael, who had joined us from the bar at Sohi's invitation. There, more drinks were to follow, mostly still water by then, and we continued the night of chatter while I insisted they don't give me any more of that legal stuff.
"I'm simply into illegal stuff. It works better for me!"
At the end of our night, Rafael sat next to me and asked: "Do you feel sleepy? I don't."
As I didn't in any way, he suggested:
"Want to go back to your place and talk?"
There was the hot Latino, asking to come back with me? It would be simply rude to refuse a house guest. My grandma had taught me: "Guests are a God sent, never to be refused!"
And hence, my exciting evening continued on at home, in great company. Olympic gold on that one. haha

On one occasion, Jade was in town and asked to meet up in a cafe in Knightsbridge. Who do we run into but a silver medalist for weightlifting from Iran! Smoking shisha. He was very humble when we asked to take a photo with him, and he had already done his work, so the bubbly must have been his treat.  
I left Jade as she had to attend a dinner while I met with Donna at the Anglesea Arms, one of my favourite pubs, for a catch-up and light supper.

My Darling brothers Soltan and Tuba came over for a visit last weekend. I left them to go their way shopping and joined Jade and her lovely cousins for a bite at a trendy cafe near Kensington. Then, I said goodbye to them after lunch to pick up Rafael with the car's roof down under a blazing summer sun, being the perfect London guide. This city is bliss during August; most people are away on holiday, the traffic is the least possible (except during the Olympics, where special lanes were explicitly drawn for registered cars to the games), AND you can find parking anywhere.
Dinner was a family affair at home. A perfect way to end a Friday.

Saturday was an afternoon spent at the anniversary celebration of Troy's pub in North London. I brought my family over while other friends joined, and an enjoyable time disappeared in moments of pleasure. Unlike the 3 to 5pm invite, we left the pub after 9pm. Funny how time flies when you are having fun.
Jade had a flight back home Sunday afternoon, and I had given her my word to take her to Fabric. I simply could not wait to get my silver dancing shoes on. Salar and his uncle were there, and we danced in a group for a while before losing the boys in room 2.  
It was clear how opening my wings and letting the air of fate carry me to areas of life I would have never imagined possible. I have learned endurance, patience when needed, and how I feel about love and friendship. 

We lost the boys while we danced in the DJ booth to Terry Francis' techno sound, so we decided to go outside to the smoking area. I just loved how fantastic Jade was in sitting beside me on those cigarette butts, or should I say in an ashtray, without a care in the world, as we people-watched and talked of God and Goodness. Once back on the first level of the club, as we walked next to the VIP corner, a gentlemanly figure moved the rope that separated the area open and kindly asked us to join them at their table. 
Our friendly attitude soon got us talking to everyone at that table. I was introduced to the two youthful Mexican beauties and their male company. They were friendly and hospitable, offering us drinks and generally welcoming. 
The last DJ only stopped playing in room 1 at 9:00am; Jade had already left as she had a flight to catch that afternoon, and I departed, accompanied by three guys from the table. We grabbed breakfast at Paul's under the warm rays of sunshine, and since I was in the mood to drive, I offered my new friends a lift to their apartment. I must be mad! But I like good company and love driving. Besides, I get to meet so many wonderful souls who help me when I travel; people just turn up and help out randomly, making it a pleasure to give something back in terms of being 'nice' and human. The main thing is, I enjoy it.

Last week passed in an excellent family company, plus I saw Kristel for breakfast at Gail's new place in Chelsea on Friday, where we caught up with each other's news. Then came the evening at Brinkley's, with Soltan and Tuba, for a late dinner with Charlotte. The place was swamped with Chelsea elegance on a drinking outing as the weekend began. We happened to bump into a funny old friend, Mr G, who asked us to join him and his friends at Kosmopol's for a cocktail. We got there, first at the bar on the ground floor, and as most left to head to bed, I found myself chatting with two gorgeous, tall Russian girls standing next to me in the basement club. In no time, the three of us decided to ditch the boys and continue the night at Maggie's club, only two minutes away. And so we did.  
To my surprise, the eighties music they played was much to my liking, so I mainly danced while going back to see if the girls were in good company. We said goodbye at the end of the hour, and I went home a happy bunny. Fun, laughter, music, dancing and making friends I may or may not see again. What counts is the NOW.

Aaaannd... What did I do precisely on Saturday again? I went to a good friend, Rassa's leaving party with Soltan and Tuba in the afternoon, where I also met up with Ernest to catch up briefly with the news since our travels together.
It is kind of sad when someone you love, as Rassa in this case, leaves the city to move elsewhere, but home is home to most, and when they find the chance and the timing for change, one can only wish them joy in whatever they do and hope that one day again, we will meet. The time spent with 'Rassa', on many occasions, always with laughter and fondness, will always be in my heart. Wishing her well on her journey home.

Going to Fabric thing on Saturdays has become a habit; once I start going again, I want to repeat it the following week. Judes had mentioned not being too busy with work that evening at Fabric, and spending time with her is always a joy. I told her she was one of the most remarkable women I knew, and I was surrounded by some extraordinary people. We spent most of the night going from one DJ booth to another, watching the music makers spin their tunes. To end the night, watching the entertaining characters of MANDY, Patrick and Phil's energetic behaviour during their play made me smile constantly. And what did I tell Patrick as he smiled at me?
"You're truly MDAaaaaamazing!"
He repeated the word and laughed.

The most grateful people I know are also the happiest.

Greece... Lightning! Mykonos to Paros and Santorini

I read today: 'Those who are happiest are those who do the most for others'.

Let me begin with a story that has occupied my mind since it happened ...  As my therapist used to say: "Don't ever act too fast on a matter that bothers you; take a deep breath, pause, and think first."

On the eve of my travel to the Greek islands, once again, Don Juan appeared as a genie to grant my last wish of desire on a magical carpet, almost flying to the moon and back before I left for the airport early Friday morning. Opening the door and seeing his inviting smile brought a deep yearning of lust in my heart. What draws me to fancy him is the similarity in our way of thinking and our free spirit. It is bonding without the stress of a relationship, a meeting of the mind, soul, and body. He is a high flyer, and I sure fly high, too! In more ways than one.
No sleep was in store as we left at 4:00am to head to different airports to catch our flights. Mine was island hopping in sunny Greece by sea, with a group of friends and the most 'Sympatico', charismatic crew; all gorgeous, each in their own right.  

Thanks to the Dear Friends 'of' Mykonos, the five of us were booked at the Nautilus restaurant in town, where the night began with Irene's best hospitality as we ate and watched the passers-by. The night followed me to a bar near Caprice (where I usually spent time getting mesmerised by the sunset). The new bar we were at this time round was buzzing, and we began 'shooting away' and dancing to great house music. A few of us followed on to Jackie O's, where their yearly anniversary celebrations began with a  cabaret type of act on a platform, the look-alikes of Amy Winehouse singing her songs to Tina Turner (if I remember well). Ernest took my hand, and we went on stage after the singing ended and boogied the night away. Kelly and Daniel joined too, and I kept teasing Kelly and pointing out to Ernest 'how she does not like this house music!'. She really was into it. The fireworks display added even more flavour to an already delicious night.
At sunrise, we decided to head back to our Boat, anchored not far from the disco.  

Saturday was at Nammos Beach, where Sergio had adorably booked us the best six-seater table by the beach. Lunch was only half over, accompanied by Ott Domaine Rose (a summer favourite). I started chatting to the table of six guys behind us, and then ....  Ooopsy la stood on the chair as soon as the music got louder. Everyone was in full party mode; the whole place rocked with joy. This went well into the early evening when our minibus awaited us back to The Boat. Before sunset, some of us dipped into the inviting blue sea to freshen up from the heat of all the dancing.
Sergio had also organised a small cocktail party of 60' to watch the sunset at his magnificent villa the following night.  
I told him: "Darling, what's exactly 'small' about 60 people?"
Then again, the man thinks big and significant is granted to him. Another thoughtful and generous soul my life is blessed with.
The party was fab; I saw the super sisters I had met the year before, who sweetly threw me a birthday party at their place then. So, the world is still full of wonderful, kind-hearted and lovely people. Now, that is to those who have stated otherwise to me.

On the day of Ernest's birthday bash, he, accompanied by Kelly, Daniel, Gracie and myself, took the ferry from Mykonos for a rough 5-mile journey across the sea to the island of Delos. Could not believe that in all the years visiting Mykonos, I had never made it there. Better late than never, here we were, walking through the ruins of what was once a sacred site for the ancient Greeks, where they forbade anyone to be born or to die there during a purification. The birthplace of Artemis and Apollo. And what a site it was. The girls sat in the coffee shop after a walk around, whilst Ernest and I climbed further after visiting the museum of marble statues to view standing columns, stone walls and the remainder of what was once a Sacred island. Daniel's jog to the top of the Hill and back, sweating in full glory on those toned muscles, was admirable.
All these hot, hot men around, and they have to be gay. Well, they do make terrific friends.

Delos Island

  

Museum on Delos

Statue of Artemis - Shooter of Deer

Terrace of the Lions along the Sacred Way

We were all back on The Boat to appropriately prepare for a night of Greek Gods and Goddesses' party on board. From Artemis to Apollo,  Athena to Poseidon, I was encouraged to go for the title of Aphrodite: the Goddess of love, beauty and desire. On the day we had walked in town, gathering the last details to add to our costumes for the party of fifteen taking place amid the Aegean sea.
We had a blast, with games to enhance the fun, bubbly champagne to drench our thirst and lots of laughter to soothe our souls. Oh, what a night!

The following day, at rough seas, we headed towards Paros, where we embarked on Naoussa Bay, lustrous by the sun's warmth shining high above us. We spent a couple of hours on the charming island of Paros in the evening, walking around the lit-up seats set amongst an alleyway next to a church by the sea, and I must add, the small boat ride was quite challenging for the crew taking us on shore; through high waves making us wet on return.
   

First trade of the morning

La Dolce Vita on Paros

The central Church on top of the Hill

I had to go back and take photos of the charming white streets of Paros in the early morning while Gracie met an old friend for coffee.

Went to a shop where I had five eye bracelets made for each of my friends as a souvenir of our time together. While waiting, I noticed the time. Was it late again? I rushed up the Hill to view the Church at the top, took photos, and descended as fast as my legs could possibly take to get back to The Boat for our next destination.

Antiparos was next, where we settled in a local restaurant by the sea to watch another glorious sunset on a bay surrounded by Greek people. Obviously, unknown to most foreign travellers.

Antiparos - Octopus and fish left to dry at the Sunset cafe

We also visited Ios, which was more of a tourist destination to cater for a younger crowd of visitors. Our stay there was not extended, and we descended yet another island through the cobbled stairs, me in platforms and Kelly in her uncomfortable golden sandals, cursing along the way. Quite an unadventurous evening ended with a drink at the pirate ship anchored close by.

Next came the island of Santorini, set on top of hills high above the sea. Although I had been there five years ago with Aisha and Risha, celebrating my birthday during our three-day stay at the trendy Vedema resort, approaching the island by sea was a different experience.
We got there before sundown and were taken by Boat to the stairs below, where the houses and shops of Thira were placed on top of the Hill. The choices of getting up were the tramway, which we were told would leave after 35 minutes, walking uphill in the warmth of the summer evening OR riding the large donkeys (more horse-like) right up the Hill.

Ernest jumped on the first donkey and rode away; Kelly was happy to follow, but Daniel's brand-new white shorts were in danger of getting stained, and he hesitated. Gracie was not a happy bunny and was unwilling to take the donkey ride. As for me, I recalled summer camp at age 7, when I first rode a horse a hundred times larger than my size (well, you know how kids exaggerate!), and the last time was 25 years ago when MY horse decided to take off at the sound of a thunderstorm. It was a fear I was happy to overcome, but the road up looked steep and narrow, and the donkeys were as large as any horse I had ever seen. Sooooo, it's out of the question. But then, the owners of the animals seemed fierce in their bullying us to get on them. A strong man simply picked me up and almost threw me over the 'horse' while my tight-ish skirt lifted right up and my feet were placed on the leather straps attached to the iron stirrups as he could not be bothered to tighten the strap. Greaaaat! In one way, I was so happy to have conquered my fear of riding as I was not the least frightened of handling myself on the animal; however, the owner, who depended on the donkey in front, engaged in deep conversation during the long journey to the top. At each bend, my poor donkey kept going right close to the wall (I guess he was scared of heights), and in fear of scratching my well-tanned legs against the coarse walls of the Hill, I kept screaming to get his attention. He simply ignored my cries except almost at the top, when he turned around and literally shouted at me:
"Madam, shut up!"

Do you see how the road intertwines right up the Hill?

 









Well, we got to the top, safe and sound and walked around the stoned streets of shops. Ilias Lallaounis, the jewellers, still existed, so we admired the byzantine styles of their 24-karat collection, checked out an art gallery carrying various fish wall hangings, and returned to our Boat for some rest. Glad to say, by taxi this time.

Santorini - Thira

View from Sphinx restaurant.

The black, Volcanic island ahead

Dining on the rooftop of the Sphinx restaurant concluded our last night in Santorini with memories that will not fade for a long time to come. Our friendship grew more robust; the dream-like experience of island hopping in Greece was nothing short of lightning ...  Greece Lightning.

One last visit was to the museum of Akrotiri in Thira, Santorini; a ruin buried under the ash of a volcanic eruption, discovered and now protected by a large roof.  

Villages come and go, volcanos erupt, earthquakes shake people's lives, and tsunamis wash away; humans have a limited time on this earth, so why not make our moments count as precious. Smile, for all you have is NOW, and it will only take a second for it to last. 

Again, it has been over a week back home, and Olympics mania has hit London hard. The games may be over now, but the stories that popped up since my return that week have left me in awe and happy to be alive again! Yes, again.

See you next time. Be safe, Happy, And loved.

Radiate Love... Birthnight

As I wrote the heading, the word radiator came to mind: pump up the fire within and spread it as a heatwave of love wherever you go. 

Well, it was my birthday in July. Having celebrated it daily in the past decade, it only meant another year of jubilation began as one of the most inspiring times of my life.  
We will see what the future has in store.

Celebrations began with my Boy...  
We checked out a few instead 'posh' restaurants and happily ended up at a Pizza chain, Made in Italy. Despite our differences in the past, as of any parent and child, to me, this was indeed The best time we ever spent together, where the Michelin stars were attached to the joy he brought me during our precious time that evening. Hadn't entirely realised how much I had missed a pizza either!

On Friday, all I cared to do, was have a handful of buddies join me at Hurlingham Club in Notting Hill, dancing to the fine Deep House tunes of a dear friend, Stan. Earlier in the evening, Charlotte came to my place and over a glass of champagne (or two), we got so entangled in deep conversation on the universe, God, Love, Forgiveness and The Power of Positive thinking that the clock struck ten and it was time, or even passed the time for us to head to the club.

Charlotte and I entered the basement disco, settled on the leather sofa in the empty space, and tried blowing on two heart balloons. Still, it was challenging work, so I quickly gave up and noticed Stan walking in and going straight for the DJ booth, followed by friends appearing, their sunny faces to brighten up the dark, dingy club. The only feeling felt was one of love and the sound of laughter which rose above the music. Stan pumped up the sound of his tunes, everyone was mingling famously, and every corner I looked at, people were smiling.  
Even recall the manager approaching and asking:
"Haldita, when shall we bring the cake?"
I questioned: "The cake?"
Then, upon recollection, I remembered the Humming Bird cupcakes I had delivered earlier and continued:
"Oh! Fuck the birthday cake! Who needs a cake? Everyone's having too much fun."
All I had mentioned to the few I thought might want to join and party that evening was... 'In celebration of Life, Love and Friendship'.
This is another memory to reminisce about for the rest of my life.  
Why do I love having so many friends around? Because I learn from each and every one of them. Lessons are lessons, good or bad; they have to be discovered.

Bedtime was at 4:00am, only to be woken up at 9:00am by the ring of the doorbell, the postman. Uuurgh! Really?!? On a Saturday?
After a quick re-makeover, it was time to get dressed. Donna was picking me up, accompanied by Shada (whom I have known for years) and Vanessa, her young and talented friend. I was looking forward to seeing Angelique Kidjo again, in person and performance. The lady is a dynamite of love and vibrancy, noticing every detail and giving the appropriate importance to everyone who reaches her, which provides me with joy to watch and learn from.  

At Pleasure Gardens in Docklands, on stage, Angelique Kidjo once again performed her magnificence in voice and energy, which got the crowd singing while she danced her African beat with such vibrance. Standing backstage, one of the girls with a microphone sticking out of her back trouser pocket took my hand, amongst others, and the next thing I knew, we were dancing on stage behind Mrs Kidjo, facing the masses. The first day of my new age and I was on stage! Can it get any better than this? And what is 'better' when everything is already just great?
Feeling so at ease in front of a crowd was another revelation. I recalled the day I stood up at Landmark Forum in front of a microphone, talking to some three hundred attendees about what I meant to achieve from being present at the self-development seminar: freedom from all expectations and how my heart was pumping, as I looked around at the gazes all on me. Then came the outbreak of the coach's firm response as he said:
"If you were thaaaaat miserable, why didn't you leave?" 
Followed by: "You were comfortable victimising yourself, feeling sorry for yourself."
I had to agree and leave that platform, thinking, 'I will never victimise myself, feel sorry for myself, nor will I allow anyone to do so.'... And that was that!
I was now on stage feeling free and happy. 'Sorry' was nowhere to be seen or felt.
An End... And now... A New Beginning. 

That evening, I managed to get to Aisha's colourful dinner party at 22:00. It was like attending a festival of glamour! Apart from being a tower of strength in her friendship, Aisha has put so many people in touch and opened her house lovingly to what I can only call making the world a better, less judgemental place to live in. Another evening of fun, laughter, making new friends, dancing and enjoyment filled the night to the early morning hours.  

The five-hour sleep was enough as I was invited to lunch at the Michelin Star W8 Kitchen by Robby and Dylan, two old friends whom I have had the pleasure of knowing since my days of being married. They teased the cheese out of me! We had all been through life's rollercoaster many times and came out with a better understanding of true friendship.  
Me: "It's been such an inspirational weekend of feeling all the love around me."
Dylan: "Ah, pet, sorry I missed your party. You've been keeping busy!"
Me: "Yap. It was so unexpected, and so many turned up! Then, I had all the Facebook messages to answer, each with a paragraph about my memory of them."
Robby: "I see now. I'm too busy to answer my text on your birthday, and it's Sunday now! Too busy for your old friends now, hey?!"
Me: "Haha." I could not stop laughing at my friend teasing me that way.  
As Robby texted me the next day... 'We've known each other so long, Haldita, well enough to take the mickey out of each other. And I responded: 'Babes, you can take the mickey out of me any time. It's the Spice!'
It was Robby who first suggested I write a blog. How Amazing are my friends?
What was almost unbelievable was bumping into my Ex as the three jolly fellows were leaving just outside the restaurant.
When I told of the incident to my brother Soltan on the phone later that day, my exact words were: 
"Soltan, you know what I realised? Whenever I see a familiar face, I jump joyfully and say hello without thinking!"
Soltan laughed and replied: "Sis, you're just like a puppy!"
A puppy, a dolphin, a bird, even a tiger, to some! Haha...  

Did I go home on that Sunday afternoon? No way, finally the sun in London has shown its face, and you know what they say... It's not over till it's over!
Meeting Donna at 7:00pm at Somerset House, with the delightful Angelique Kidjo and her husband, was another couple of hours to be cherished. What came to mind was again my first introduction to Angelique on a DVD of her performance at an event, shown at Lola's and my response in saying how I wished to meet this remarkable lady and there I was, in person, sitting next to her on the balcony of Somerset House, by the river Thames, at sundown and expressing myself openly:
"Angelique, you're such an inspiration to watch, on or off stage. I've learned so much just being around you, and I thank my Darling Donna, who has shown more love to me than I could possibly wish for and to be the cause of our meeting. The world needs more of you, women who can stand up for their rights and the rights of others everywhere."
We both agreed that it's not easy being strong women, especially from the parts of the world we come from. In other parts, women have gained their rights through time.

I also recall going to the newsagent with Donna and Angelique's dear life partner the day before and watching him pick up the newspaper to see the right-up photo of his lady, displayed mainly on the centre page.
I looked in and, by seeing the youthful beauty of Angelique, helplessly uttered:
"Wow, Stunning!"
The man responded with that 'je ne sais quoi' smile: "Yes she is. And she is my Wife."

That evening, we parted again until the next time. As I was driving on Waterloo Bridge next to Somerset House, the sunset on that summer's day in London drew me into parking my car on the bridge and taking a shot of the scenery. 
Did my Sunday evening end there? Nope again!  
A text from Aisha drew me back to her place for another soiree of fun and frolic.  

Why have I been away for so long? Away from my blog and my passion for writing?
Everything is timing, but perhaps, at times, the time stops. It gets diverted to a new dimension, new lessons, or maybe I am simply going through writer's block!