Constantinople/New Rome/Istanbul

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Istanbul previously known as Constantinople  ( the city of Constantine) is a tourist's dream. Its history, its natural position between Europe and the Orient make it the treasure trove of Byzantine and Ottoman art that spans 2000 years, with a culture that merges to create the aroma of modern day Istanbul. It is simply known as the City  - the polis. There's no better description to denote its uniqueness. The New Rome was chosen to look in both the East and the Western parts of the greatest empire that ever was. 

The book on Byzantium by Lord Norwich covers its history

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The Turkish Airlines plane banked and turned over the sea of Marmara as we circled over the Golden Horn and the Bosphorus. On the European side of the narrow straits there was the City, resplendent with minarets gleaming like pointed rockets ready for launch.

On a short trip to Istanbul,  we chose  a hotel only five minutes from the centre of Roman/Ottoman Constantinople. We'd missed the day's organised tour, but as we were so near to the centre, we decided to walk down the same road as that used by the Emperors of old. The main street below the hotel was the ‘Mese’, the central avenue of the old city now called Divan Yolu which ran from the Palace to the Golden Gate.

We joined the crowds going down to the park and mingled with the tourists hunting for souvenirs and we stopped for some tea at an open air cafe. We had Ayia Sofia on one side and the Blue Mosque on the other. The Blue Mosque was built by the famous Turkish architect Sinan, a thousand years after Ayia Sofia as the answer to Justinian’s creation.

A short walk across the square and we descended to the Cisterns built by Justinian to supply the city with water. All of a sudden we were transported into a surreal atmosphere with ancient columns gleaming in the water, all lit up by spot lights to give the impression of a huge concert hall with classical music and excellent acoustics. We stood there silent, as our minds took us back to a bygone era into a sacred temple of antiquity.

Ayia Sofia itself stood proud surrounded by minarets that gave it a protective shield as if they were standing guard over the Great Church. Inside, inspite of the ravages of time and conquests, you could still feel the majesty as you looked up to the top of the dome that seemed suspended from heaven. There was the ubiquitous reminder that this had been used by the Turks as a mosque by the huge circular disks with Arabic inscriptions that were suspended from the top of the columns as well as the painted over mosaics and icons.

Ayia Sofia was such a wonder that when Justinian first entered the Church he cried out: " I have surpassed thee Solomon" referring to the Temple in Jerusalem. This Church had also been used as a model by the Arabs and later the Ottomans who built magnificent mosques in a similar style.

It was also the wonder of Ayia Sofia that helped convert the Russians to Christianity. Prince Vladimir’s emissaries who had been sent out to evaluate different religions were so impressed that they returned home and reported that they did not know if they were in heaven or on earth when they attended the Service in Ayia Sofia.

Later in the evening we heard the loudspeakers from the Blue Mosque calling the faithful to prayer. Suddenly the whole area was abuzz with the sound of the muezzin that gave the whole city an air of oriental mystery.

On the way back to the hotel, we passed the Hippodrome where the races and political gatherings were held in the past. It was here that the two main political factions of Greens and Blues united and rose against the Emperor Justinian. The story goes that the Emperor made ready to flee but was dissuaded by Theodora his wife who'd said that it would be better to die as an Emperor than live as a nobody, and that she would not flee. The courage of this woman was enough to shame the Emperor and his entourage, and the generals went to the Hippodrome unleashing the army who proceeded to massacre all the rioters.  Justinian never forgot.

We then chose a restaurant recommended by the concierge which was down by the Galata Bridge and had a marvellous view of the Golden Horn. We walked all the way down to Eminonu, passing more sites including the European Railway Station made famous by the Orient Express.

We were lucky to find a table at the roof-top restaurant with a view of the harbour, the Galata bridge in front, and the lights of the Suleymaniye Mosque behind us. Looking down, we could see why Constantine had chosen this spot to build his New Rome. The Golden Horn provided a natural and secure harbour whose entry could be easily closed to any invaders.

The next day there was so much to see both in beauty and history, that it was difficult to decide what to leave out of our agenda. The challenge was how to span a thousand year period in such a short visit and still appreciate why the Empire lasted so long. We took the bus tour that gave us a view of both the old and the new city as well as the walls. You had to see the walls to appreciate how a small band of brave men fighting against tremendous odds for months on end, could hold off wave upon wave of the Ottoman hordes.

It was here at the Walls that I realised how little the West had done to help save the City. It almost seemed that they were relieved that the City would fall to the Ottomans. It was after reading Lord Norwich's book on Byzantium, that I was made aware of the conscious effort in the West to play down the importance, and the glorious history of Constantinople. When Rome in the West was struggling through the invasions of the northern barbarians, here in the East there was a very high level of art, industry, and philosophy inherited from the ancients in both Greek and Latin.

Artists and philosophers of antiquity were teaching in schools from Athens to Alexandria, Gaza and Constantinople and the Greek language was used alongside Latin until eventually it replaced it. To this day, the West is in denial on the art and science inheritted from the ancients in Constantinple. We are told that  Aristotle's and Plato's works were passed on to us through Arabic translations from Spain, ignoring the close links between Venice and Constantinople.

By the turn of the 11th century, the Eastern Empire had fallen on hard times through constant attacks  and incessant internal religious squabbles that had sapped the strength of the Empire. Power had shifted now to the more vigorous Franks and Normans in the West. The two parts of the empire had permanently split and the Eastern part was mainly in the hands of the Turks. Having lost most of its provinces Byzantium  no longer had the means to raise either money or soldiers to defend itself.

When in desperation the Eastern Emperors had called for help from their Western fellow Christians, the West responded with the Crusades, which were to  prove the ultimate catastrophe for Constantinople. The Westerners set up local kingdoms in the recovered lands of Asia Minor and the Holy Land. These people had no love for the finer art of the East, and they were mainly motivated by a desire for conquest and plunder. In the end, little distinction was made between eastern Christians, Muslims or Jews. Finally in 1204 the Crusaders sacked Constantinople itself and set up a latin empire.

The combination of competition, envy, and hatred that persisted and had caused the schism in the church, had spilled inevitably over to conquest. The damage to Constantinople by the invasion and sack of the 4th Crusade was worse than the city suffered from the Turks in 1453. The Crusaders even used Ayia Sofia to stable their horses. The pillage, the fire, the rape and butchery that followed, dealt such a blow to the Empire of the East that it never really recovered. From this point on, it was down hill all the way to the Ottoman onslaught.”


The Enlightenment in the West seems to have ignored the contribution of Constantinople to the development of the West. The translations from Greek to Latin already existed in Byzantium, as well as other cities in Italy where Greek influence and language persisted. Translations of Ancient Greek philosophy were already in Italy well before the rise of Islam as evidenced by St.Augustin's  teachings of Plato in Latin. The Arabs to their credit, did not have such complexes in learning from the Eastern Empire and had long before appreciated Greek science and philosophy bringing these works to Spain.

The West looked down on Constantinople to such an extent that Gibbon, in his ‘Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire’ was very dismissive of the Byzantines. Western thinkers saw themselves as the exclusive inheritors of classical Greece. An intervening Greek culture such as that in the East would have diminished their authority. How could these 'devious corrupt and incompetent 'Byzantine Greeks' be the successors of a brilliant heritage?  It was left to the  Turks to refer to the East as the Roman Empire that they had conquered.
  
History is now  finally being reviewed, and new voices have arisen to bear witness to what we owe to the Eastern Roman Empire that stood as a bastion protecting Europe in the East.  The  efforts to reunite the Church,  and the  positive steps taken by the Roman Catholic Popes wth Pope John apologising, and then  Pope Benedict making a visit to Istanbul to the Orthodox Patriarch,  are proof of the rapprochement between Western and Eastern Christendom and the central role of Constantinople.

Johnny

Johnny

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Outline: A feel good story of a brave little boy

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Everyone was excited! The civil war was over, and the president was coming to open a monument for the fallen. Every house in the president's path had had its fences freshly painted, holes in the roads had been filled, and bushes had been planted to hide ugly war marks. Life was returning to normal with many people who had fled the troubles coming back to tend their fields.

At the local school, the head master was preparing the children for their participation in the welcoming ceremonies.

“Children, our president’s visit is a great honour and we must prepare well. Brenda, you, as the senior girl, have been chosen to  present the flowers to the president’s lady."

"Yes sir, thank you sir." Brenda replied joyfully.

"Groups from each class will take up their  assigned positions, and when I give the signal, they will march past, dressed in our national uniform."

It was unlikely that Johnny would be among the selected children. Johnny's father had not been a strong supporter of the government, and he was among the people the mayor had selected to be sent to a camp for 're-education.' Mayors throughout the country had been requested to come up with numbers of suspect individuals, who were sympathizers of the defeated rebels. 

Johnny lived with his father and step mother below the railway lines in the poor quarter, where the houses were makeshift shacks.

When his father was taken away, he was left with his step mother.  At Christmas time, when the well-off ladies distributed presents to the poor children, Johnny was not included, because of his father. They didn’t have much  before, but now that his father had been taken away, they were destitute. Added to this, there was little love between him and his step-mother but in these times they had to survive as best they could.

"I didn't marry your father to look after you as well. I have my own baby to feed. You can go to your aunt and ask for food," his step mother would say.

He found it  difficult to sleep on an empty stomach most nights, and he'd often come to school tired. In spite of his young age - he was only nine, he was working part time at the local gas station fetching and carrying for people but the money didn't amount to much.

The night before the President's visit, Johnny was thinking hard, praying to have  his father back. He thought and thought,  until he finally fell asleep.

Next day, he joined the crowd lining the road waiting for the president to pass. People were pushing against the barriers, kept in line by soldiers and  Johnny saw a village official who knew him. On seeing the little boy, the official called out to him.

“Hello Johnny, what are you dong here? Shouldn’t you be with the other school children?”

“I wasn’t selected,” Johnny replied.

“ Never mind, I’ll see what I can do to get you up front; you won’t see much from here."

Johnny's eyes lit up.  “Thank you, maybe I can speak to the president if they let me." The official knew that Johnny was a daring child and proceeded to clear a path, placing the boy up front, just behind the soldiers.

The band was now playing, and people were cheering and waving  as the  president's entourage made its way up the path, leading to the memorial building. Johnny, saw his chance and  dashed out from the crowd.  He took everyone by surprise and before he could be stopped, he  came close to the presidential couple. The guards tried to pull him back but it was too late, The President’s lady saw him.

“Let the boy come,“ she said.  The whole entourage stopped, and there was a lot of commotion among the officials and the crowd who surged forward to see what was happening.

Johnny had never seen such an elegant and beautifully dressed lady. She wore a blue coloured skirt-suit and had a huge ring on her finger that caught the sunlight and  scattered it in colourful rays. She looked so elegant! Johnny tried to say something but words did not come out. They were not necessary; the lady understood as she saw the little boy’s eyes fill with tears.

“What’s your name little man?” She asked him softly as she touched his cheek.

“Johnny ma’am” he replied hesitantly.

“Take your time Johnny, and tell me why you are here.” The president alongside his wife resplendent in his General's uniform could not remain impassive.  He  bent down and smiled at the little boy, helping Johnny relax.

“Please Sir, let my dad come home?” Johnny sobbed. The president  patted the boy on the head, while those around him clapped and the cameras flashed as the official and newspaper photographers took their pictures.

"Who is your father and where is he?" The president asked and then  turned to his Aide, "Take the boy's details, and look into it please."

Then the president made an impromptu speech for the benefit of the press, conscious of this great opportunity for reaching out to the whole nation, putting on a caring and gentle face for reconciliation. The boy's courage was praised as was the opportunity for peace.

Johnny was now the hero of the village - the boy who dared speak to the president had become a celebrity. The next day, his picture was in all the papers with articles describing his daring exploit.

”Tell us what you said to the President, Johnny.”  Every shopkeeper asked when he went to the town.

“What will you give me if I tell you what I said?" Was Johnny's reply.

He collected rice, sugar, beans, dried fish, tins of sardines biscuits and whatever the shopkeepers offered to hear first-hand what he'd  said to the president. They would not go without food anymore.

 A few days later came a large envelope from the Presidential Palace addressed to Johnny. He opened it, and jumped for joy as he read it.

“Your request has been considered and received our favorable review. Your father will be released within the next few days, as soon as arrangements can be made with the relevant authorities.” 

Japan

 trip to Japan

The Middle Seat

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Outline: Things that go wrong if you're trapped in the middle seat when flying economy.

Flying is something I don't enjoy very much. It's not the fear of being in a metal tube tens of thousands of feet up in the sky; it's the hussle at the airports and the discomfort of being made to squeeze between people in the narrow seats in economy class.

I can't forget my last flight after a week in France, when I was hoping for a peaceful flight home. Usual routine, last minute rush to the airport with the cab driver fighting through the Friday night commuter traffic. Would I make the flight? Hopefully. At last,  we reached  Charles De Gaulle Terminal 1.  ‘I’ve got 15 minutes before they give my seat to the standbys who are circling like vultures,’ I thought. I paid the taxi and rushed towards the check in.

The girl at the counter was all flustered checking-in the last passengers, and arguing with those waiting on standby.

“Yes sir, I appreciate that you have a Privilege Card but there are no standby seats yet,” she said to an irate customer who had no reservation.

A voice over the PA system started giving news of the flight: “Late Air Ways regret to announce a delay of thirty minutes in the departure of flight LA 123."

“Oh, no! Last time they announced a thirty minute delay we were still here three hours later” someone said. Looks like I’ve made it. I got my ticket and passport out and moved up through the waiting crowd. I didn’t bother to ask for an aisle seat - hardly likely to get one by now.

“25B is the best I can do sir” the girl said.

Never mind, I may be lucky and get a small lady next to me, I thought wistfully. It didn’t take long before we were called to board. I got to my seat early, and after putting my bag up in the luggage compartment, I placed all my newspapers and mags into the pocket behind the seat in front,  and sat down waiting. I was watching those coming, trying to guess who‘ll stop at row 25. I kept my fingers crossed but I saw the best prospects just go by. I couldn’t relax yet.

‘The big guys always leave it to the end’ I thought as I  half closed my eyes.  I believe in positive thinking, and I had read somewhere that if you concentrated on something you wanted badly, you could make it come true. Power of the mind. My mind drifted back to the time when a pretty girl was sitting next to me. The plane hit an air pocket and she grabbed my hand squeezing it hard… No such luck this time though. Perhaps I hadn't concentrated hard enough. Just then I saw a big man approach. ‘Yes, it’ll be him, he’s sweating.’  I got up to let him in. Close behind, was another guy. ‘This one is even bigger. He deserves an aisle seat.’

Now I was no longer concerned with the people passing. I had drawn a very short straw, and I just had to come to terms with it. Another positive thought went through my head.  ‘We’ll have no delay and the flight is a short one! Best to secure some elbow room with the arm rests on both sides of me.’
The first guy by the window took off his shoes and pushed them to my side, as he placed his case under the seat. I in turn, put my elbows on the arm-rest and  tried to open my newspaper, carefully folding the pages so as not to disturb my neighbours.

Just then the announcement came over the speaker. “Ladies and gentlemen, just make yourselves comfortable, we’ll be leaving as soon as the tower gives us permission to taxi.”  The captain did his PR. "We’ll be flying at 30000 feet at a speed of 500 mph and we should arrive at Heathrow 20 minutes late, that is assuming that they’ll not keep us circling waiting in the queue to land. The weather is fine with a light south-westerly wind helping us along.”

We were lucky, we were given permission to go, and the plane taxied out to the take-off point. Another short wait and then the mighty roar of the engines, as the plane lurched forward released from its tethers  as if it was  in some sort of race. You could feel the wheels rolling down the run way. What a racket! as if they were solid and there was no suspension. Maybe the surface tarmac needed repair. Then the magic feel, the relief that we were released as if a rope had snapped and we were free to float up. We had lift-off! Lights flashed and quickly disappeared and then came the rumble of the wheels being pulled into the under-carriage compartment.

I couldn’t help feeling the excitement of the take off. It happened every time. It was a wonder how the engines could lift such a huge load off the ground. Now, as soon as the plane reached  cruising height, everything was quiet again and the warning light went out. A number of people got up to go to the toilets. Just as well I didn't have to go - I was wedged in the middle  and it would have been a real need before I’d ask the man on my left to rise and let me out.

Soon the food came and with it followed the coffee. I didn’t like fish so I just nibbled the cheese and biscuits. The guy by the window was now tacking into his food so fast you’d think he hadn’t eaten for days. He looked at me, hoping, I think, that I should offer him my main course as well.

My neighbour on the left decided to relax by undoing the top of his trousers to take the pressure off his huge belly, and his zip opened all by itself. He quickly covered up using the napkin, and was further protected by the table. As the hostess went by, he asked for more coffee. The girl tried to pour it in, but the plastic cup slipped out of his hand and, "oh my goodness", the liquid flew all over, with some spilling over to me as well. I didn’t have the nerve to ask if it burned his leg or anything. Then the stewardess spoke soothingly, “I am very sorry sir, I hope that you are all right. Here, let me help” she said as she took some napkins and tried to wipe the liquid from his clothes. "No, no, never mind its not a problem he said as he put his hand out to take the napkins himself, then he turned and looked to me. I just feigned sympathy. "These things happen” I said trying to appear understanding.

Now it was the turn of the guy by the window. ‘Oh no, he can’t,’ I said to myself. He turned his head and raised his eyes looking at me apologetically.

“Can you let me out please”. Probably had no time to go before boarding, or maybe it was the coffee I speculated. The real problem though was the tray. The stewardess was busy serving. She couldn’t take the trays. “Never mind I can wait a while” he said to my relief but not his. Finally the trays were collected and not before time, as we rose to let him out. I had to admit that I felt a little sorry for him holding on, every passing moment being more and more difficult as he squeezed, hoping that he could manage it. He nearly lost it, just as the bottom seemed to fall of as we hit an air pocket. Fear must have stopped him squeezing, and he became red in the face due to a mixture of fear and embarrassment. Luckily the plane settled again at which point we rose to let the unfortunate man out.

By the time we landed, I was exhausted, and this was in no small part due to the middle seat. Still, I had the whole weekend to recover. TGIF

The School Outing - A Childrens' Story

A Short Childrens' Story

The fourth form of Saint Gilda's School were going to the Welsh mountains on a field trip. They were going to an area of Snowdonia that included disused gold mines and ruins of an old castle. Mike, the tall and handsome captain of the football team  was every girl’s favourite, and Mona had tken the seat next to him.

Ben who had a crush on Mona  could hear the two talking and laughing as he sat alone behind them.

"We're  going to look for gold!" He heard Mike say. "We'll leave the others behind."

“You really think  there's  gold there?” Mona didn't sound convinced.

“People still go there, hoping to find the odd nugget. Who knows? I feel lucky today." Mike replied.

When they got to the hills, Mr. Jenkins their teacher, led them up to the top, explaining the history of the castle ruins and the mines. Most children were kept busy with so much to see and explore that time seemed to fly. Meanwhile, Mike and Mona had slipped away, gone to explore the caves on their own.

“Let's try this one; the entrance is well hidden.”Mike said.

"I don't know if it's such a good idea," Mona said, imagining all the  creepy crawlies that might be hiding inside. "Maybe we should join the others after all. We'll probably not find anything worth having other than empty cans."

"Nah, let's just go behind the boulders and see what it's like. I'm a big boy, I can look after you." It wasn't only the gold that interested him. She went along reluctantly and they slowly advanced till the passage became narrower.

"That's far enough," Mona said and as she spoke, she heard  a slow rambling noise which frightened her. "Please, let's get out of here." She pleaded.

Mike had started inspecting the surface of the walls with his torch. The idea of finding a shiny peace of rock excited him and he took no notice of Mona.

“You’re not listening to me, I’ll never talk to you again after this. Please God that we come out of it unharmed.”The noise and rumbling that she'd heard before had moved closer and the passage became very dark.

"All right, all right, I made a mistake you don’t have to go on about it,” There was now little light from the entrance, and he turned to go back. The rumbling became louder. To their horror, they saw the rocks falling and the entrance closed up. In their effort to get out, Mona tripped and hurt her foot. More stones came  down till there was hardly any light.

“Oh my God, we'll be buried alive." Mona cried, unable to walk fast. She hung on to Mike, gripping his arm for support. "We’ve got to get out before the rest of the tunnel collapses but I can’t go any faster," she cried.

"Calm down, we’ll be all right. Here, take my torch. Mr. Jenkins will soon come looking for us." Mike tried to reassure Mona.

“Well, if you think so, but how will he know where to look? We crept away from the others remember?”

Mr. Jenkins had already missed them. The rest of the group had assembled as expected but Mike and Mona weren't  there.

“Where could they be, has anyone seen them?” Mr. Jenkins  asked.

"Please sir," Ben said, "I saw them earlier. They went into a mine entrance behind some rocks. I didn't want to say anything, not to get Mona into any trouble." The group descended to where Ben had seen them. Now, the entrance was closed. There was no time to lose. The whole group got to work shifting  stones. Their hands were bleeding.

When a gap was finally opened Ben saw the torch light that Mona was pointing towards the exit. He slid  through and Mike and Mona were overwhelmed with joy when they saw him.

"Oh Ben, I’m so happy to see you! for a while I thought we'd never get out alive,” Mona cried with joy, as she embraced him and kissed him. Ben was now beside himself; here was the girl of his dreams with her hands around him. He savoured the moment!

“I couldn't let anything happen to you Mona,” Ben felt ten foot tall as he also glanced at Mike who had shrunk in stature. The three of them crawled out, happy to join  the others.

Mona changed seats for the return trip; Ben was now her new hero!

Nature Calling

New York - The experience of being stuck in a traffic jam and needing to spend a penny

A few years back I had the pleasure of working in New York and living in Westchester County close to the Hudson river. I  usually took the train to the city,  but on this fine spring day I decided to take the car and benefit from the picturesque country on the way to town.

Traffic was pretty light most of the way, but things got difficult after the tolls on the Henry Hudson bridge just before Manhattan. Soon we were reduced to a crawl and stop-go. All I could do now, was to watch the cars on the outside lane, keeping a check on my progress in relation to them. It was a game that helped pass the time. I’d see the little sports car, behind me previously, move ahead and feel frustrated that I was being left behind in the wrong lane. Then suddenly we’d move and I’d catch up again.

Having lost count of time, I'd really had no idea how long it was before I felt a funny but familiar sensation telling me that nature was calling.  I automatically squeezed to overcome the urge. At first it was weak and I thought no more about it. I concentrated instead on observing the people and cars around me. Trying to get it out of my mind. But soon it became more persistent. I knew I should have gone to the bathroom before leaving. Trust me not to think of this at the time and end up stuck in a position like this!

I started to panic. There really was no way out.  I couldn't even leave the Parkway which, to my right, was inaccessible . It  Seemed I was here for the duration... All I could do was to squeeze more regularly  and even so my time was limited. The clock had already started ticking to count down - there was no  escape.  What to do? It was all down to providence from now on. Relax, I thought as we moved forward and I passed a few cars on my left. But how could I relax without letting go? I prayed that whatever was causing the delay would clear and we'd soon reach an exit. We were drawing close to the George Washington Bridge. Not long now...

Another 10 minutes went by and we’d only moved a hundred yards. This was where the Panic really set in...! Terrified I might not make it to any exit. By now I was shifting up and down in my seat awaiting the inevitable. I started humming to take my mind off things. Then I decided to stop in case I lost my concentration.  I even switched the radio off.

Keep still, I thought, and squeeze your legs. By then I had lost all interest in my surroundings, and as my focus slowly waned from steering wheel to what issues lay below, like a miracle, the exit sign appeared up ahead! I started tapping my foot with impatience willing all other cars out of the way to clear my path. It was now a tossup, maybe I would make it and then again maybe I would not...  Tension was mounting. As I got to the slip road I sensed some relief, but the physical conditions hadn’t changed. I can’t even remember how I managed to get off the highway.

I found myself on a street on the Upper Westside. It didn’t look very promising, grafitti on shop fronts but I didn't care. Here, at least I could stop. I saw a hotel sign hanging down from above a door and made straight for it. No time to look for a parking space. Not now!

Without a second's thought I pulled up,  double parked, not even stopping to switch off the motor and close the car door. I  raced inside, and by the way the guy at the desk looked at me he must have known that I was pretty desperate indeed! To say The place looked seedy was, at the very least, an understatement, but in the given circumstances, I couldn't have cared less. All I needed was a bathroom. No time to worry or explain and having indicated as much to the grinning clerk, he just pointed and said, "up stairs."

I run up the steps two at a time, only to be intercepted by a couple of girls who judging by their dress and make up, must have been resident workers.

"Where's the bathroom?" I asked holding my hands in front of me, as they giggled pointing down the passage. I rushed past them and got inside, not bothering to shut the door.

What a relief! I was finally free. I’d made it and I no longer had a care in the world.
The meeting was no longer important, either.  Nothing was.  As I went out I gave the girls a big smile but hurried past them down the stairs. I said "thanks" and waved at the man at the desk who gave me a friendly smile as he looked up and told me, "have a good day."

When I emerged from the hotel, my car was just where I'd left it, double parked with engine running and the door wide open!

People have told me I'm lucky not to have had it stolen, or at the very least been issued with a ticket. But, I guess I'd had enough bad luck for one day to warrant anymore!