Be Assertive Girl!

My non-assertiveness was pointed out to me, by a lady therapist the ex and I were introduced to see by our family doctor, to help ease the pain of our troubled marriage.

Doris, unlike the jolly blonde character of Doris Day in old movies, was rather severe and emotionless in her ways. She reminded me of a headmistress in a disciplined boarding school, not unlike the one I attended at age 13. Doris would have private sessions with each of us, followed by a mixed session where the three of us would sit and talk to resolve the issues that made us so unhappy in our relationship.

Doris was a lady, a few years older than my mother, who spoke in broken English, with a heavy East European accent. She seemed captivated by the ex's charm which he put on with the ladies, and his good looks she came to one decision after a few sessions. Doris turned to me in one of those couples' sessions and said in a rather gentle way: "Haldita dear, I believe your relationship could improve if you learned to be more assertive!"
It must have been from my fearful, yet puzzled expression that she felt obliged to explain herself further: "You have to learn to say no."

The words 'No shit Batman!' did cross my mind. 

I could not quite figure out why she was pointing the finger at me while it was the ex who needed telling-off. Yet, looking back, I see she had a 'point' there. Doris then introduced me to a group therapy she had organised in the evenings, once a week, with six of her clients.
I went to two or three of these courses on learning 'how to be assertive'.

Throughout our sessions, I always felt she just did not get me but then I was so lost in my emotions from years of abuse; be it verbal or physical, that my sense of right and wrong was unclear, in a state of confusion. In difficult, abusive relationships, we lose the sense of the self. 'Who am I?' becomes a constant unanswered question. Marriage felt like a lifetime of having to answer for every step I took. I had to watch everything I said and every action I made. A constant telescope on you, rating your wrong-doings. Oufffff... Thank goodness that's over now. Remember, jealousy is a useless trait. So unnecessary. 

Anyway, despite my busy work schedule, running a business and family, I still made it to the Assertive Course. Through the group therapy, all I could hear forcefully was to say no or to make a fuss when we were not pleased with a situation. One practice was when going to a restaurant...

"Would you tell the waiter if the food was not to your liking?" Doris would ask.
One way or another, we would all reply 'No'.
My response was: "I wouldn't say the food was bad, I finished my meal, left and did not go back to that restaurant."
"No," Doris assertively interrupted: "You've to tell people when you feel something is not right. You call the waiter and tell him/her the food is not to your liking and he needs to change it."

And this was just one of the subjects discussed in the few sessions I did attend. 
It made me think for sure, but I was not going to make some poor waiter's life hell when the food was not to my liking. Was I? No. There are ways of making your point across in better-mannered and kinder ways.
One good lesson that did come out of the group therapies was being assertive telling Doris the 'assertive courses' were not working for me... So, I did say 'No', - it actually was helping me though maybe not in the way Doris wanted. I went on to tell Doris that I did not wish to continue with my therapy. So, 'No thank you'.

I quit Doris' therapy but sadly, she had boosted the ex's belief in thinking he could carry on with his unruly behaviour. Shortly after a violent episode, I decided to take on Shiba's advice and turn to another therapist called François. Under his professional and caring influence, I grew stronger every day although he would only see me every three weeks or so. I learned about my behaviour patterns and how the only person who can change things is myself, in order to live a more fulfilling life of happiness. The little girl in me is alive and ready to explore the new world I shall create for my new living. Have I learned from my mistakes? Hell, yes. Will I not make mistakes again? Of course, I will. I am only human. 

I read somewhere... 'If you don't like how things are, change it! You're not a tree.'

My learning was that I like my kind and soft spots, I don't have to put up with anyone's shit and I will tell them quite straightforwardly, what has triggered my upset, but I can also leave gracefully without causing upset by simply walking away. I cannot change the way they feel or think and no one is to judge. But if a behaviour is out of order, not to my liking... It's ciao amigo; goodbye.

As to what brought back the memory of Doris' assertive group therapy...
On Sunday afternoon, Dylan and Conor drove to pick me up to go to the very trendy Chelsea pub; The Phene. We sat in the garden, with the sun shining through the tall, still bare trees. I decided to order some food as the boys had already eaten. It was 3 pm and the waiter apologised as it was late and all on offer was a platter of charcuterie and mezze. So be it.

Surprisingly enough, the food was rather disappointing which was not customary. So, when the waiter began clearing the table as we were leaving, he asked if everything was alright.
I answered gently with a smile: "Actually, no. The tzatziki was runny and tasteless and the charcuterie was so hard and chewy."
"I'm sorry," was the waiter's response.
"You know, you've got a popular place going here and the food has been great on other occasions, so it would be a shame to lose your customers by lowering your standards. Am I right?"
The waiter kindly agreed and we left.

Now, it made me think. I did not feel bad because there was no harshness or bad feeling about the point I was making which could only help their business. It came naturally, there was no force in doing what I did and most of all, I realised how I have changed. It is true that I would have never said that many years ago. Perhaps I was weak and vulnerable or I did not want to hurt anyone's feelings in any way. Anyhow, I could not do it before.

Doris was right and I had to learn to be assertive. Perhaps if I could stand up for my rights, my ex would have turned out to be a better husband and he is truly a unique human being, but the most important thing was to learn 'to love myself', to understand who I am and to accept the fact that I make mistakes but I am also willing to make the changes according to the way I am. I can be soft and yet, now I will not let anyone walk over me.

The Dalai Lama's words of grace... 'Open your arms to change, but don't let go of your values'.

Oh! Pouring my scattered thoughts down in words

We often hide our inhibitions and only let out what we choose to portray as the person we want to be seen as.  How often do we pop the question within... 'Did I say the right thing?' Or 'Did I do the right thing?'
What is this 'right thing' we keep referring to?
Oh! I have my moments for sure. More of that, another time.

The reason I have chosen to keep my nationality, age and religion out of context here, is because I find it a way of labelling, the way most people judge themselves and others, to make assumptions according to what has been stated or dictated to our conscience as the way we 'should' behave or be. Our roots are important as they make us complete in understanding certain patterns of behaviour. So are our ancestral patterns; traumas within past generations can and do affect our lives. It is for us to acknowledge them and take the steps to clear negative family influences and leave space for new learnings of improving our lives to a happier way of being.

With time and age, our conception of people and places alike, changes. Life's experience gives us the chance to learn (hopefully) and try to make amendments when the same situation arises.  It's like saying 'Life's too short, must make the most of it'. It is easier said than done and besides, there are so many twists and turns which happen to make each situation unique. As we all are.
Would you think it is easy for me to write about my very private affairs; sex, drugs, nights of clubbing and pouring my head out with my heart? Actually, it is! Haha... But only because it is a chosen act that makes me learn more about pushing my boundaries and possibly giving pleasure to my dear readers. I have hardly gone back to re-read my blogs as I may momentarily make myself wrong for writing them, 'in the fear of being judged' and decide to delete what has given me so much joy to write in the first place.
But I don't do fear, much too busy for that.

Another point is... Just in case my memory fails me in years to come, I can look back and be proud that I have lived my life to the full. How I wished my grandparents had left words I could read about their lives, the countries they visited and their inner feelings. Would I make them wrong for anything... And I mean absolutely anything they could have done that may have been frowned upon at the time it was written by the people of that era? Of course not!

So... I go places and meet loads of friends. It's all about enjoying each other's company, having a phone conversation sharing funny stories and laughter and other times, listening to the pain we go through but it is all about love and support. And I guess with others, things do not quite work out that way. The auras do not blend ...  they clash. Simple really.

They say the older we get, the less tolerant we become. And yet I see older people who are full of warmth and kindness and give their love unconditionally but must admit that these people are a rare bread. One of the men who always makes me proud when I think of him is my grandfather. I think of looking up at him as a child, as a teenager, as an adult and all I keep remembering is his kind smile over and over again, to everyone alike. My gentle grand-mother was the most hospitable lady, with the sweetest of characters. Lady Saba (some people do not need to be titled by the Queen, they carry that natural air of ladyship in their being) who is a poet and a valuable family friend, from whom I can learn the essence of humanity. Another amazing hostess and family friend is Lady Diba, who welcomes everyone to her home with open arms.
Listen, I'm no Queen, nevertheless, have the right to call anyone 'Lady' when I wish to! No offence.

Every woman, man and child teaches me valuable lessons. Be it good or bad.
Last week, Juan Manuel and his lovely lady, Miranda, invited me over for lunch, to finally get to meet their adorable boys and share experiences of our South American adventures. My visit was only two years overdue as their firstborn is 2 years old now and I had meant to go and meet him since he was born. Not only that, there is now a second addition to the family of their 8-month-old baby.
I had told Juan Manuel, every time we met: "And how old is your baby now?"
As a response to the age he would give me, I would continue, jokingly: "Oh! I'll come and see him. If not before, I would make it to his wedding for sure."
I observed the two children and saw them smile, opening the wrapping of their new toys and thought if only we could grow up with that free mentality. A child could be happy with a balloon.  They run in the fields, not because they have to lose 3 kilos but because it gives them joy to be free in open space. They are honest to smile at you when they like you and turn around and go their way when they don't. So, as grown-ups, how do we pollute their minds with so much complexity?

It was Kalina's birthday party on Friday. The past two years, due to last-minute decisions of travels I had not made it to her birthday but this one was not to be missed. Seems I missed a few dues two years ago which I finally made it to in one week!
"Finally! You made it to my birthday." Kalina said with her beautiful smile when she embraced me upon arrival.
We had met first time at Lola's after-party, accompanied by her partner Ryan. They were such a delightful couple; both so kind,warm and friendly. Our friendship has grown in time and it is always a pleasure to spend time in their loving company. Their entourage of close friends that evening brought so much joy that the hours passed like minutes.
Kalina's brother surprised her by turning up from abroad, with a large bouquet of flowers and a birthday cake, seeing the love between them made me miss my siblings. You could see they were brought up with love.

It was a late one, so I did not get to the hilly Hampstead Heath, a park in North London, before 3:30 p.m. on Saturday, to meet up with Troy and Torsten for a picnic in the sun. We lay on the blankets, had our sandwiches with champagne and... Laughed. Carrying on my 'Choroni hippie look' of a colourful summer top and shorts with the Havaianas did not go down well with the cool breeze of what I called 'Siberian winds'. Alright, somewhat of an exaggeration, but I was feeling the cold with the jacket and the blanket on. Before we parted I said: "I know I've been to my home millions o' times before, but that's where I'm heading again."

These are friendships that I pray my mind shall never cease to forget and reading them one day, would be a drop in the ocean of many more great times spent together.

London in the spring sun, is The most amazing city in the world. May it continue.

The Cab-E ride!

Last week, my partner in crime, Hala left to go back home leaving me to continue my life here.

My eldest cousin turned up to spend some great family time together. We had drinks with Sophie at George's and visited Jak's bar with Kristine. Saturday lunch at Diba's was with a more mature gathering of friends and laughter before Samson left for the US in the afternoon.

Saturday evening was a very different scene visiting Brick Lane with rows of Indian restaurants and bars with Salar. We paid a short visit to Scream, where his friend was Djing, followed by dinner at a Swedish restaurant called Fika serving a traditional Scandinavian menu. The night was still young, we had a drink at Vibes where there was a large area closed off, serving food and drinks from stalls laying on the cobbled stoned area separated from two music rooms for dancing in the building facing the open air.

By midnight, Salar and I decided to pay a visit to no other place but of course, Fabric, where we had first met some years ago. We visited the DJ booth in room two where Terry Francis was playing. The familiar faces and the warm embraces come from a connection, definitely, music-related but also of a mutual understanding. Kind of 'I dig you'. Haha. You either connect, or you don't. Some effortlessly at first instance, others could take longer, or not.

Isn't it amazing how in a dark, dingy place, great bonding and friendships can be made?

The time spent with younger friends gives me an opportunity to talk to them about life in general and the occasional tete-a-tete of talking about family matters.
Now, the established reality is, relationships are not easy.
As much as my sister and I get along and have great times together, I find the need for what I call 'me-time', more and more necessary. There is no judgement, simply being happy for each other with the choices we make in leading that special life of adventure and excitement, together and separately. People often comment on how lucky we are to get along so well and have fun together. But deep down, I believe we are the same as everyone. Each relationship has its ups and downs, in particular with siblings. That's ok. We are individuals after all. 

And what do we do to get closer to one another? Parents, children, friends. It has taken years of observing how my relationships have developed, along the way so many people came and left. Who knows? We may meet again, or not. I have finally reached a state where I am responsibly taking into account the words of Ruiz in his book, 'The Four Agreements'. Be Impeccable with your word. Don't take anything personally. Don't make assumptions. Always do your best.

And if I don't feel the vibe to be right, I simply walk away. 

I believe it is lesser so these days when parents force their children to follow the dreams they themselves once had. But it sure had its era. 

In fact, I'm going through a phase of JOMO; Joy Of Missing Out. Haha

Sunday was Mother's Day. Most of my young friends were happy to be taking their mums to lunch. My adorable Girl took me to a special dinner at Yauatcha's in Soho. My Boy is travelling in faraway places, his message was loving and to the point. His place is dearly missed. It gives me absolute pleasure and pride to see my children making the most of their lives, seeking adventure as well as being level-headed in their chosen paths. I am truly blessed. I give them my support and I have often told them, if they need me for any reason, at any time, I shall be behind them in full force, no matter; an unconditional love. I give them my love and trust at all times and they truly deserve it.
We are individuals and can only lead a life destined for one.

Out of the blue, a fun story came to mind. It was a Friday in early December and I was invited to a Christmas do, at 4 pm at Lola's. Knowing Lola's parties would go well into the night, I took my time and left my place around 6 o'clock. I managed to hail a free black cab in the madness of the Christmas rush.  When I explained the direction of the address, I added:
"I usually drive there, so I'm not quite sure what the road is called but I'll be drinking tonight.'
The cab driver knew the exact address and said:
"Seems you already had a few!"
"What... Drinks?" I asked.
"Yeah," answered the cabbie.
"Actually, no." I responded, "But I did have a joint."
"A smoke?" The cab driver seemed pleasantly surprised. "You mean you had a spliff?"
"Yep," was my answer.
"Good on you!" He smiled. "Since you're so honest, let me tell you, I love my smoke and so does my wife.  I've two teenage daughters and I haven't been partying for a long time. This Christmas, we were gonna go out with my mates and I spent the whole day looking for some Es, but I've lost my contacts over the years."
"Oh, really now," I said in a cheeky tone, "And how many were you looking for?"
"About 6." He answered innocently.
"Fine then," I continued, "I'll make your Christmas wish come true. Turn left here."
The cab driver looked back in astonishment. He was not sure how to react. So, I put him at ease by saying: "Take me home and I'll get you your goodies."
His first initiation was: "Really? Oh, I'll pay anything you want for them."
"Not necessary," I said with a smile, "I don't accept payment for drugs. They'll be my Christmas present to you."

As it happened, I had scored a bagful, only a couple of days before and it was more than enough for the night we were planning to go out that weekend. So, I came back to the taxi and handed them his goodies.  He turned around and asked:
"Are you an angel?"
"No," I replied, "A mere mortal who likes to make people happy."
Having confessed to not being a great talker, the cab driver went on to tell me a lot more about his life than he had ever discussed with anyone. As it happened, his eldest daughter had a similar name to me!
When he dropped me off insisting not to take any payment for the ride, I paid him the full fare and said:
"That was your Christmas present. When I give, I don't expect anything back."

The incredible thing was, a year later in January, the same taxi driver picked me up one afternoon and although I had not noticed at first, he said:
"I know you, you're Haldita. You probably won't remember me but you did me a favour some time ago which I shan't forget."
By then, I recognised him and said:
"And you are Dean. You know, it's not every day I go around handing Es to cab drivers!"

Come to think of it, I am only human and when I give, a simple gesture of gratitude is always a pleasure to be had. But it seems a rarity in this day and age and so be it.

Life is truly simple... Don't complicate matters for yourself or others.

An Open-Air Museum... Charles Bridge

Just in case I got some eyebrows lifted with my last blog, let's face it, the so-called 'drugs' are everywhere.

My view on it is that governments are to blame. How come excessive alcohol consumption is allowed so freely while it is worse than most illegal drugs (I bet they will be legalised eventually). Prescription drugs such as Prozac are handed out regularly to patients; the new E (Ecstasy). Ecstasy used to be prescribed as the 'happy pill' by therapists over the counter till the 1960s. Cocaine is cut and distributed all over the world; mixed with all forms of white powder; from aspirin to horrendous cheap substitutes and taken by many in power and otherwise. Opium has been taken through the ages; originally to help the elderly deal with the pains that come with old age. Now, the new laboratory-made drugs from ketamine; originally a veterinary medicine, and the drug called miao, miao! Or is it meow, meow! It seems new ones come onto the market weekly.

If governments really cared, it would be better if they educated people from a young age about their usage and the consequences to be expected as they get older. The danger of paranoia that all these drugs bring to the ones who are unstable in the mind, due to life difficulties or perhaps the lack of love most feel in this day and age. We do not stay young forever and our body's tolerance changes as we age and the effects of what we take in and how we abuse it will eventually come to haunt us if we manage to stay around long enough.
Remember the keyword is... 'Moderation'.

I do not plan to take a perfect body (does that exist?) with a life not lived fully to the grave. However, I do plan to live a relatively healthy and happy life, filled with as much love, joy and experiences of adventure as I could possibly fit into it. I exercise, eat well, drink plenty of water, eat lots of fruit and most of all, try to free my mind of useless thoughts. When repetitively I get asked what is the secret of my youthful looks... 'My genes for sure. Gratitude at all times and work to keep a positive attitude. Be happy and be as non-judgemental as I possibly can. When I want to be funny, I say... 'Sex, drugs and rock and roll, fun and keeping great company'!

Now to go back to Prague.
After a 24-hour tripping session, Torsten and Troy were ready to go out. We did another quick getting ready session to finally make it to Le Clan, twenty-four hours late; for the eleventh anniversary of the after-party club. The party was still going strong at 4 a.m. when we entered the dark dungeon. Down the stairs, there was a living room-like area with a bar, where people were mingling and chatting and the next basement where a DJ was playing house music, some playing on a football machine and others dancing and talking. We stayed a couple of hours and decided with Hala, to go back to bed in the light of the early morning.

Finally at midday on Sunday, we woke up with more energy and decided to uncover the marvels of the city.
Due to a strong recommendation, we were dropped off at The Mandarin Oriental Hotel for brunch. However, whilst the restaurant was great it only had two tables occupied so we left, absolutely starving and went to the Entrecote restaurant nearby. It was OK. Our self-guided tour of simply walking around the city was magnificent.

We walked for hours. Went up a hill, which could have been a toil if it was not for the breathtaking views over the city from Prague Castle situated right at the top of the hill.

And the grand Cathedral in the centre of the palaces.

We were anxious to get on the Charles Bridge, built on the Vltava River in 1357 under King Charles IV and finished at the beginning of the fifteenth century. Until 1841, it was the only connection between Prague Castle and the city's old town.
516 meters long, with a width of 10 meters, the bridge is decorated by a continuous alley of 30 statues, mostly in baroque style, originally erected around 1700 but now all replaced by replicas. They still look so old.

We passed by the Toy Museum with an exhibition on Barbie, indeed the doll, to pass the Sex Machines museum! I did wonder about that but ended up taking a photo from outside as time was scarce, there was no time for a visit inside.

The night was approaching and we stopped at the pizzeria in a small square very close to the Old Town Square with live jazz music. It was a relaxing way of spending time for rest.
After dinner, our hunger for beauty in the city, which was now romantically lit up, especially on the magnificent buildings, kept us going despite our tired legs.

Finally, we got home at midnight after an eleven-hour tour on foot.
It is a city I fully recommend for anyone to visit. It has so much to offer and it seems to be a destination for stag dos as well as visitors after culture and beauty.

Prague... No warning sign?!

Awake from our deep three-hour sleep, we got out of bed before midnight and like superwomen, we were ready in a few twirls. The minicab was waiting outside. Troy, Hala and I were driven to the address, where we got off by a paved area by the river, next to a green, 40-meter-long party boat. The sound of house music could be heard outside, close to a bridge, with what seemed like office buildings on the other side of the road, standing at a misty distance.

The three of us went on board and walked into a smoky area, with leather armchairs on each side of the entrance, a small DJ booth on the left and a couple of steps down. There was the bar on the right with a dance floor next to it. I must add, the cloud of smoke made my eyes tearful in no time but the music was good and the way the DJ looked down and smiled at me, I decided the smoke was not going to bother me. We ordered vodka and cranberry each and danced. Torsten arrived and introduced us to people he had met on his nightly outings in Prague.
He first introduced me to Barbara; a young, blonde, friendly Czech who then introduced me to 'her boyfriend', an older man, in a white jacket, smiling at her side.
"This is Steve," Barbara said. "He's from Liverpool. A true scouser, my man."
They were very pleasant and invited me to have a joint with them on the leather seats. As they expressed their love for one another, Barbara suddenly pointed at a new arrival on the boat, surrounded by three others.
"Look, here's the guy if you wanna get ecstasy, he's your man." She said.
I turned around to see the recommended dealer who seemed most popular.

After a quick discussion with my travel companions, we decided to go for it. We had a 48-hour schedule to maintain and a little substance could take us a long way.
With the purchase in place, Hala and I looked at each other and thought... 'Let's do the whole one rather than half. That should keep us going for hours.'
And on that note, we swallowed a whole E with some water to wash it down.

I have to point out, that my keyword is 'moderation'. You can 'almost' do anything in life and enjoy it if you learn to keep things in moderation. It is when you overdo things that get you in trouble eventually. Use it, don't abuse it, is my motto. 

Back on the dancefloor, I started to feel irritated from the smoky atmosphere. I went on deck for some fresh air. The night was beginning to get chilly. The toilets were on the other side of the boat, which meant I had to traverse through the cloudy area again. I managed to get to the ladies. As I was washing my hands, I felt the boat rock, like a tsunami had hit the river! 

Walking back as steadily as I could support myself through the dancing crowd, I felt a strange pain in my stomach, different to any feeling I ever had before.
I got on deck to join Troy and Hala and in no time, got to the roadside of the river on the boat and threw up overboard! 

Now, that is a rare occasion. I simply do not throw up! I like being in control; whatever state I am in. I was truly bothered by what was happening to me and yet tried to go about it as elegantly as I possibly could. Well, I had blue fur around my neck, with a tissue in one hand to dub on my lips as though I had been having afternoon tea at the Ritz and was dusting the crust away from my mouth. Opposite this scene, was a man sitting on the stairs of the pavement, leaning against a short wall behind him, a full glass of drink in hand, smiling at me, without changing expression or looking away!  

My first thoughts were... Wow, the E's in Prague must be super strong. Am I really throwing up? Does this stranger opposite get a kick out of seeing a woman puke? As it turned out, he seemed to have been out of it and had his eyes shut a while later, still smiling! I then looked up to see a couple of gorgeous-looking men get on board. Thank goodness they did not see me in that state! So I smiled and waited till they had their back to me before I could continue with my ritual. Oh, dear! That was not good.
Troy was super concerned: "Are you alright Haldita?"
"No," I replied, "Is there a proper toilet you could get me to around here?"
We were almost in the middle of nowhere! Just lucky enough to have a couple of taxis standing on the side road by now.
I saw Troy approach the driver and ask: "Is there a 5-star toilet nearby?"
He cracked me up, only if I was in a state to laugh.
At this point, we were all feeling uneasy and got in the cab on our way back to Torsten's, with him nowhere in sight. And so, we left the boat party.

I must have been 'tripping' in the taxi as Hala was covering me with her jacket to keep me warm. It was a feeling totally alien to me.
Troy and Hala were trying to figure out what was in that pill?
After a lengthy ride and the conclusion it must have been LSD we had taken, we finally arrived at our destination and got in the flat, to lay on the L-shaped sofa with a duvet on to warm up.
All I could hear was Hala saying: "We must be tripping."
I got what was left of my strength together and said from under the duvet: "Sis, can you stop repeating that word, it's disturbing me! We're on a trip already... Tripping! Tripping!"
The rest of the night was spent under the duvet giggling at the outcome of what was supposed to be our night out in Prague!
"This is so bizarre, this feeling." I kept repeating myself. "So bizarre."
There was a sensation of pins and needles on the surface of my skin, from the upper arms to the lower, which then moved to other parts of the body. I had a feeling of utter exhaustion, where you just do not want to move but stay warm and just... Trip I guess. By no choice.

Hala told us stories of being in Goa many years ago when it was a hippie colony, very different to the developed Goa nowadays. She met Eric, a skinny older Scotsman living there, with long grey hair and a silver beard down to his belly. He was known as the God of Acid. She talked about the nights spent around a big fire lit on the beach, listening to the hippies playing music and dancing.
I then said: "I really feel I'm in Goa now and I've never been before."

Troy managed to call Torsten and said: "We're back at your place chilling. Come for a bit and we'll see what happens."
Torsten could be heard on the other side of the line: "Noooo. My home? Dude, I've been there a million times before. I don't wanna come home."
However, half an hour later, the door of the flat opened and Torsten literally jumped in, giving us a momentary fright. He said:
"I'm tooootally disappointed in you."
"Where were you?" Asked Troy, "I came looking for you."
"Well,"  Torsten answered, "I've been going according to our Plan. Unlike you all! You girls missed the dinner and now Le Clan!"
"Well," I said leaning on one elbow, "We would have if we had got ecstasy as opposed to LSD! And I threw up... Elegantly I may add."
"No," Torsten was amazed, "Really?! Stop saying TU."
"We've been tripping all this time!"  Hala had to mention that word again. "What? TU?"
"Oh! TU for throw up!" I laughed, "Seriously, Torsten."

Thank goodness, the weather on Saturday was cold and rainy, which made it a better excuse to stay in for the next 24 hours! All I wanted was for this feeling of exhaustion to go away and to have my energy back.
Salar messaged me to ask how our trip to Prague was going. When I mentioned how the E turned into Acid, he wrote back: "I would like to remind you of what we discussed together last week... What is on the floor, stays on the floor!"
"No, no," I replied, "We actually bought the stuff!"
"Hahaha," Salar wrote, "When are you coming back?"
"From which trip?" I answered. "I was sitting in front of a white wall for some time, waiting for the view to appear."
"Try to watch a cartoon," Salar suggested.
"We are cartoons, baby." That was my reply. "When I last looked in the bath mirror, I looked like Countess Dracula with mascara running down one cheek."
"It should only last for 12 hours honey."  His remark did not sound promising. He continued: "Did you have a love bite on your neck as well?"
"You're too sharp Salar." I said, "No. I wish at least! All I did was throw up in the river overboard.  No time to give a love bite either."
Hahaha... We both wrote.

Oh boy did we giggle. But I really pray that this never happens to me again. I promised myself to be seriously careful with what I take. My kinesiologist today mentioned how I have to take some anti-oxidants for a month to get rid of the effect of that pill which I TU-ed and still managed to damage my body with. She played a piece of music by Vivaldi to calm my senses which happened to be a concert we sadly missed inside a cathedral in Prague. And why did we miss it?!

The story goes on of course... We managed to get some sleep before...
The rest of the Prague trip is to follow.

However much appreciated Prague is... It's still underrated

Gosh... Haldita has been missing in action here. 'I'm sooooooo busy'.

Well, as you would have well gathered from the heading, it was a spare-of-moment decision, to take a trip (in more ways than one), to Prague. I would call it an open-air museum where the magnificence of baroque and Gothic architecture embrace one another with the flow of Art Deco, to present sights beyond one's imagination.  Beauty in one mind-blowing building after another, where the eyes follow the lines of each sight,  only to stop... at the next one and try to take in all this glory. 'Demasiado' is the word Hala and I kept repeating it. 'Too much'... In Spanish of course.

The story is bubbling in my mind...
It was the previous Saturday, that Hala and I, joined by Troy and Torsten, who are both tall, energetic, with a great sense of humour and extremely friendly in their general approach to everyone, went to Shoreditch to meet up with the lovely Shane for an evening of fun and music in a small underground club; the Nest.
As it happened, the DJ was not quite playing our tunes, so we ended up driving to Fabric with the three big lads and Hala in my (kind of) sporty car!
Although the music was totally to our liking, we did not stay long but before we left Torsten who had been living and working in Prague for the past four years, said:
"I'm off to Prague next weekend, to pack up and move back to London."
"Really," Hala responded with a sigh.  "You know Prague is top on my list of places to visit.  I've never been."
Torsten's eyes lit up in the dark: "Then, you must come with Troy and Haldita." He turned towards me and said: "I've told you before. Le Clan's eleventh anniversary starts on Friday night for 48 hours! Aaaand it's my favourite after-party club; come."
Troy's first response was: "Oh! I can't, I've been there 8 times and I'm busy with my new project."
The words left my lips without a moment's thought: "Brilliant. I went there some eleven years ago with a girlfriend in November and it was minus ten degrees! Would love to see it now in warmer conditions and besides, she fell asleep at dinner at 8.30 on me every night."
"Seriously?" Hala was more than excited. "I'm gonna change my ticket for next week. I was meant to be flying home next Sunday."
Torsten was very serious: "Yes, do it."
And so... We did it.

On Friday at about 10 am, we met up with Troy at Prague airport! He had flown on a different airline to us. The three of us went outside in the sun and caught a taxi to Torsten's; who had flown in the night before.  As Troy went to pay the taxi driver, he turned around to us at the back of the cab and said: "Oh Oh... No good, the amount on the meter says 6-6-6. Nooooo good." We laughed at his comment.

We took the lift to Torsten's modern maisonette and shortly after, the four of us headed out for lunch at Kogo in Slovansky Dum (Slovak House). As we were let out the taxi, I asked: 

"What's thank you in Czech?"
Torsten answered a word, not dissimilar to 'deekeyoo'.
"What?" I asked again.
"Just say deeke for short," Torsten answered.
"Or dik, dik." Troy grinned.
"Dik, dik?" I questioned. "You're kidding me, right?"
"Dik so much." Hala laughed.
"Guys, guys... Deeeke." Torsten added.

At the airy, off-white, modern restaurant, we took our seats close to the glass, fronting the outdoor, green space.  The table got bigger after a lengthy fabulous lunch of pasta and red wine. We were joined firstly by the smiley Yvan, an American friend of the boys, I had once met briefly in London arrived, followed by Arnost, who only stayed briefly. Arnost was on his way home, to get ready for the beginning of his birthday celebrations that evening at a new restaurant their friend had opened, followed by Le Clan. We were, of course, to accompany Trosten to the events.

We left the restaurant on foot at around 4 pm, to be shown around this marvellous city, by our host; as in a fast-forward movie on a DVD. To keep following his long steps and try hard to take in all the names was quite an ordeal, nevertheless, worth every second. But how many 'wonders' can a city hold? Plenty.
The massive Old Town Square leaves the eyes wide open with the magnificence of the architecture and the mouth speechless.
 

The two small wooden shutters at the top of the building open at the strike of every hour for the statues inside to twirl with music. Torsten then whizzed us off through the backstreets to astonish us further with the view of Charles Bridge. And St Vitus Cathedral at the far end.

The lack of sleep from the previous night, due to late night packing (a mere 12 kg leather luggage to check in! made Hala very proud of me) and an early rise to catch the flight, added by the wine at lunch and all the sightseeing, was taking its toll on us. We paid a short visit to Yvan on our way back home.

Hala and I decided to be sensible and miss the birthday dinner for a couple hours' sleep, in order to join the boys and their friends later at the next destination... On a party boat. And fell fast asleep, not realising I had set my alarm for 10.30 am and not pm. We dreamed through the PINGs coming on my Blackberry from Torsten and the missed calls made by Troy!
One hour later, the downstairs door slammed shut and we saw Troy climbing up the stairs, with his arms up in the air: "Where are you girls? We tried to call. Com' on up you get. We're meeting everyone on the boat."

And so... The night to remember began to kick off.
You guessed it... To be continued... TBC

Ocean Dream... Aruba, Cartagena, Panama Canal and on...

While watching so many cities of the world in chaos and feeling deeply hurt by their pain, life goes on elsewhere. It's not that I don't feel the sorrow of others, but I also realise how life is short and the need to get on with my life the best I can, while I can.

We went to Zuma's for dinner with a new girlfriend, Kristine. As we struggled for a table, a passion fruit martini was on order and got talking to some Greeks. They invited me to their restaurant in Mykonos in the summer. I thanked them and warned them if I came, it would be with a group of ten to twenty people!

We finally got shown to our table. Kristine went to the ladies and did not return for a while. I was people-watching when she came back in all excitement and stood next to me to say: "Haldita, you won't believe who's here... John Kerry. I just talked to him and took a photo with him."
I racked my brain, 'John Kerry rings a bell. Is he some hot Irish actor? Which movies?' I thought momentarily. While I was in my reverie, Kristine asked in shock: "You know who John Kerry is?" She added: "The ex US candidate for the presidency."
"Oh!" I must have had an indifferent look on my face and continued: "OK."
"But he's big. He almost became president."  Kristine went on: "Look, I took a picture with him on my iPhone. Everyone's taking photos, go and take one."
She showed me her photo with the tall, grey man.
"Yes, of course, I know." Now I sounded disappointed. "My phone camera doesn't work." I tried to get out of the obligation.
"Take mine," My friend offered, "Go."
"It's ok. He can wait. Let's have our sake first." I said as the sake was being served.
Kristine laughed in disbelief. If he was some hot-looking actor maybe, but some politician?! And not even Obama at the very least! Mmm... Of course, by the time, I was ready to offer Mr John Kerry the pleasure of a photo with me, haha, he was gone. I am not vain, just not into politics!
After dinner, we picked up Hala to go to Supper Club for a night of dancing et 'de la folie'.

It is actually the first time I truly felt at ease, sorry, an understatement!  Haha. I feel great about the way I look. It's not that I have lost any weight!  But I feel fit and strong after that lipo suction surgery I did almost a year and a half ago which left me in pain and sick for months on end. It's good to have regained my energy and there is nothing, but nothing more important than our health. I actually learnt to control my drinking from the South Americans on the cruise we went on for a week while in Venezuela. It sounds strange as the Latinos I had gathered drunk well.

The story is as follows: Teresa and Ramon, through their super friendly travel agent, suggested we take a cruise from Caracas, which only began running in December, to see another chosen destination: Cartagena in Colombia. The route of the cruise in seven days was: Embarkation at La Guaira in Caracas on a Tuesday, a day at Curaçao, a day at sea, Colon in Panama, Cartagena, Santa Marta and Aruba.
So we did it.
The idea of a cruise and being stuck with a group of people on a ship in the middle of the sea had never appealed to us before. But with a group of fun-loving Latinos... Why not?!
As the price of the cruise was inclusive of meals and drinks of any sort, we were expecting somewhat drunken behaviour from passengers. However, in one week, we never saw anyone behave out of character to that effect. A very mixed group of ages, there was music, dancing and a friendly atmosphere on the cruise.  Hardly anyone spoke any other language but Spanish and in the one week, we never met anyone from outside of their continent. So we got to practise our Spanish. Perfecto. And boy did I speak my heart out! We got invited by couples and ladies to all parts of South America. Very cultural as Hala puts it.

Ocean Dream was the name of the cruise liner, 205 meters long. We had a good size cabin with an en-suite shower room. TV which Hala turned on at night to watch the CNN news of the riots going on in many Islamic countries to get rid of their tyrant leaders, keeping up with the world while cruising the seas so far away from the troubles.

The Dutch-occupied Caribbean island of Curaçao was a vibrantly, colourful version of a city in the Netherlands, under the sun.

We took a colourful bus tour around the island with the jolly bus driver and tour guide, The Salsa Express as he called it. Curaçao's main source of income is from the oil refinery, the oil brought down from Venezuela. It lacked the rustic, unorganised feel of most islands in the Caribbean. Nevertheless, beautiful.

At the end of the tour, the tour guide played salsa music and being amongst the 'forever ready to dance' Latinos, people stood up in the moving bus and let their bodies follow the music. Shaking it with the happiest of smiles on their faces while the rest of us clapped.

We next got off at Panama and took another tour to visit the eighth wonder of the world, The Panama Canal.  Watching the movement of the cargo ship leaving from one side, while the water went down on the aisle next to us to let the old American warship enter from the other was a sight to watch. The process takes about 2 hours each time.

On the fourth day, we had the whole day to spend in Cartagena which had been high on our agenda, to visit. Cartagena has recently become super popular with visitors, celebrities and travellers. Entering the port onboard, we could first see a row of modern apartment blocks, quite Miami-like, mostly in white, followed by the dome of yet another cathedral in what looked like the old part of this well-known Colombian holiday destination.
As we entered the port of Cartagena, there was a tropical garden with dancers and musicians, welcoming the cruisers.

We were approached by a Venezuelan lady to join their group of two couples to take a tour around the town.  They, of course, thought we were Brazilian first, like everyone else we met.
We were first taken on a drive through the modern part of the city.

To the old part.  So much charm, walking through the pedestrianised streets of colourful houses; posadas discreetly hidden behind large wooden doors.

The middle photo of the statue of the irresistible La Gorda, lying in the middle of the main square, took my breath away. I had Hala take a photo of me almost biting her big toe. Now I ask you, if a skinny woman was lying there, would the attraction of this larger-than-life character be as significant? Not judging, simply reality-check. 
Cartagena is not a cheap destination to visit but its charm and beauty would definitely make it worth a visit. We left the lit-up city at night. Shame, as I have heard the partying scene in the city at night is fun and exciting. Never mind... There could always be a next time.

There is not much about Santa Marta in Colombia to report. I heard from someone I met at the pirate party on the ship, on the Thames here last week who had been there a month before our visit, that he had enjoyed a great time. However, our visit was very touristic, the beach we were dropped off at, was rather busy and the sea, not that pleasant to swim in. So, different times, different experiences.

Aruba, the second biggest Dutch Caribbean island was also colourful. Only 18 miles from Venezuela, the port was just off the main street and the sign of Louis Vuitton could be read on a shop across.

Aruba was filled with Cacti; four different types and views of the blue sea were stunning from every angle.

Everyone residing in Aruba speaks four languages by the age of 12. During the XIX century, there was a gold fever and soon afterwards, a refinery of petroleum was opened in 1924. The oil in countries like Venezuela and Iran seems to cause them so much chaos and yet the refineries of the oil in islands such as Curaçao and Aruba have brought them prosperity and peace!
We left on the cruise, watching another magnificent sunset on the blue seas.

Our one week on the cruise ended with meeting very friendly people and exchanging emails and phone numbers. We may never cross one another's paths... Or we may do. What is important... is that initial moment of bonding, however short or long.
Apart from adding to our worldly culture, I remember the smiling faces of people having fun.

If you put your head on your pillow with no friends to think about, the world could be a lonely place.  Embrace your loved ones with gratitude.