A Thief amongst us in Marrakesh!

Well, hello again!
Now that the tales of Peru are past telling, how do I begin to sustain the effects of its enlightenment back here in London? The learning along my way is always the same; keep positive and smile.

It is challenging to digest today's news, which has left me somewhat distraught. Really?!  

A bomb exploded at the finishing line of a charity marathon? Can cruelty in humankind get any worse? The earthquake in Southern Iran is an act of nature, and however ruthless it may be, we must come to terms with it; it is out of our hands. But killing one another for whatever cause or reason is simply vicious. So, what makes these people come to terms with their actions and even think such evil thoughts? Is it a lack of love in their lives? How tortured are their minds? How different we are from one another.
Guess this is why I cannot bear the news. So sad. 

Life is not always rosy and posy. Let me tell you a story which proves just that.
Quite a few years ago, Hala and I decided to visit Marrakesh with Club Med, staying in the centre of town. The Medina, which uses facilities in their Riad hotel, is a short distance away. It was set in an almost deserted area with beautiful palm trees, the bluest swimming pools, and a great Moroccan-style surround.

We mainly stayed in the centre of town, close to the souk, where the morning prayers would momentarily wake us up. It's a shame the singer's voice was so untamed.
Our time in Club Med was fun as we made friends over the meals, shared tables with different people and made new friends. We did manage to spend a good deal of time at the souk, bargaining with ruthless vendors over the eleven pairs of Babouches we each bought, made in the softest leather of pastel colours and straw—never mind the kaftans! Sun-seeking by the pool was another chosen past time during our trip, as per usual.

We quickly became buddies with the excellent staff running the place and spent quite some time in their rooms chatting, smoking and laughing. By mid-week, while at dinner, we made the acquaintance of a father and son who were accompanied by a handful of older ladies at the table, all French-speaking. The son, Frédéric, looked like Mark Wedloe, playing the young boy in Gentle Ben (an ancient TV series about a cute child and his bear), but this one was only in his early thirties. He rapidly made friends with us and would accompany us almost everywhere we went. Within a couple of days, during supper, while Hala and I joked and laughed with Frédéric, the ladies were eying us with cheeky smiles and voiced their minds:

"Seems young Frédéric is keeping you ladies well entertained? Hey?"
They gave an exceptionally longer glance when their eyes gazed at mine. And, of course, I would not let them down in any way by denying that, indeed, he was, and we all laughed.

We had even introduced him to our friends who worked in the compound, and he seemed to fit in well wherever he joined us. The photos I took of that trip and the beauty of each sunset floating away behind the tall, picturesque palms will forever stay in my mind. Here is what happened next.

I must mention that the lock of the safe in our room was broken from day one. Despite my insisting on having it fixed, Hala had reassured me that Club Med was safe and that we could hide our jewellery in the suitcase and lock it. As far as jewellery was concerned, for some idiotic reason, we had travelled with our Cartier and Bulgari watches and a handful of 'stuff'—all real!  

The boy, Frédéric, had been to our room several times before going to dinner. At the same time, we finished getting ready, and by then, we had become such great buddies that we did not think twice before opening the suitcase's lock and getting out the jewels to wear. The boy's father, who had kept complaining to everyone about his 'useless' son not becoming a banker, was busy charming the older ladies until his attention drifted entirely to someone exquisite travelling with her young and vibrant daughter who wore headscarves in the most tasteful African manner; excellent for her white tone. When I mentioned how beautifully she carried it, the girl talked of her cancer openly and not for a moment did she stop smiling, floating around the place like a butterfly and sharing her love of life with everyone who crossed her path.  

Anyway, two days before our departure, Frédéric and his papa returned to Paris in the evening, and Hala and I offered to help him buy presents for his mother from the souk (market). After the deal, we returned to our room, where he carried an empty rack. I disappeared into the bathroom briefly but emerged shortly to accompany him to the lobby and head to dinner afterwards. I noticed the father exchanging numbers with the elegant lady, and we all bid them farewell as the bus left for the airport; somehow, I was beginning to believe there was something dodgy about the older man.

Once dinner was over, we returned to our room and noticed the suitcase lock open and a few items missing! Including Hala's gold watch, my two cameras (with which we had taken photos of everyone, including Frédéric and his father), and special Chanel glasses I had purchased recently. But my watch and other jewellery had not been touched. Obviously, we were flabbergasted! Without a clue as to who could have done that? We had stayed in Club Meds since decades ago, and never had we experienced such an act of violence. Once we talked to the staff, who had become good friends, about what had happened, they were all saddened and did their best to help us find who it could have been. They questioned their staff, and we felt deeply saddened not only for our loss but also for seeing the distress caused to our now buddies. One of the guys in charge, Ali, came with us to the police station to keep us company while they filed the robbery. If you think you have seen the most underdeveloped government department anywhere, this was undoubtedly one next to none. The station was merely a dry courtyard-like area on red clay ground, and the rooms around it were as primitive as time would allow, with a table and a few child-sized wooden chairs lying in what was otherwise an empty space. The 'sheriff' (what I called him Hala), who certainly had the air of authority, in the form of ego blowing out of his head, in a scruffy suit, looked us up and down and seemed least interested in what we had to say, while his male secretary arrived with a chair in one hand and a typewriter under his arm and sat typing away what he was dictated by his master; from one finger to another... Tack, tack, tack. Seriously?!

Anyway, the trauma which followed is something I prefer to keep in the history of my mind. We tried to comfort the staff, who were tormented by the saga even more than we were. It was only on the following day, after reviewing the past few days, that I began to doubt our friend, Frédéric.  But there was no proof, as I realised that when you deal with charlatans, they have probably tried their tricks on others and have become pros as of the process. He was the only person who saw where we hid the jewels, and for whatever reason, we had not locked the case from the night before, or he knew where the key was. He was the only one who had entered our room during that time with his empty rack sack, which he showed us before it was bare. So basically, shit can happen anywhere. I lost my photos, but frankly, such memories are best kept away, and by the time we had realised the truth back in London, we had no grounds to go by to let them know. I still sometimes wonder what the father had in mind when approaching and charming the elegant lady. God help us all from evil.

Life is not all doom and gloom. I thank God every morning for my health and the love that fills my days. Oh, finally, not only did I start a page on Facebook for my blog, but I also became a proud owner of an iPhone! Phew. Life's so much easier with Apple. Well, mine is.
Catching up with great friends kept me busy most of last week... What's new!
Thank goodness spring has sprung upon us, but before it did, suffering deeply from the cold that hit us recently, I picked a sunny destination to visit soon. What's new there, too.  
An evening meal at Zuma's with Robby and catching up on her news was an absolute delight as we talked of men and the bizarre lives everyone leads today. All the intermarriages, then remarriages following with off-springs in different ports, which is fast becoming a norm.
Thursday and Friday were dinner at the Arts Club in Mayfair; one night with the tall, blonde Cindy, whom I met through a work process as we became friends not long ago and the next with three gorgeous girlfriends; Ranna, who is the symbol of womanhood, Fifi over for the weekend and Kristel with whom we ended the night in the bar watching Simon Cowell walk in with his entourage of apparently mostly TV personalities as my friend noticed. Since I don't watch TV, I have yet to learn who they were, but they sure had a confident attitude about them. As in 'fuck me', I'm a celebrity! NOT. Haha. It was fun watching young girls from tables around pause as they stood beside Mr Cowell's table and flick their hair.

A family baby shower on Sunday made me realise how far away my days of baby talk were. So, I followed it up by visiting Troy at the New Inn for a few hours of laughter and getting better acquainted with Lila. It was not an early night, for sure.
The pièce de résistance came last night when a flow of excitement delivered Christofer to my doorstep. Dressed in the most womanly manner, which would have even made Marilyn Monroe proud, I finally remembered what it was like to live on my own again, being naughty in my own surroundings!  
Aaaaah...

Now is the time to bid you goodnight or good day as it may imply, and leave you with a thought from Dalai Lama:
'The mind is like a parachute... It works best when it is open.