The Cobra Srikes Again

You would not BELIEVE what happened last night! I spent the day shopping for the first time since I got here, since the weather had changed and I had sent stuff home and lightened up. Nature abhors a vacuum and all that.

At the end of the day, I sat down to have a Spanish supper, and ordered a BEER. As soon as it arrived along with it arrived a Romanian Gypsy beggar. She invaded my space, asked for money in Spanish, reached across and tried to get a sip of my beer. Then she reached down and picked up my small zippered case with my photo memory cards in it and handed it to me, and asked for money in return! I was flabbergasted! How had itotten out of my purse? I grabbed my purse and clutched it close to my chest, but she would not go away. She circled me like a cobra, while a group of English tourists watched. She left, then came back and asked for money. To get rid of her, gave her a small amount of change. She was not satisfied, and asked for MORE, then she did the swooping in for the beer move again.By this time I was yelling for her to go away, or I would call the police! She left, after another round of "por los ninos." I ate my spaghetti, and went to pay, and discovered, yup, you got it. My WALLET was gone. While she had reached over to get my beer, she had gotten the wallet out of the purse with the other hand. Sleight of hand par extraordinaire. I mean they are PROFESSIONALS! I have never seen anything like it. And everyone was wataching the show! Nobody did anything, they were mesmerized by her, and it is distasteful to watch.

This timeI completely lost it. I stood up and yelled I HATE this fucking country! Twice in five days. So there I was in the police station again, filling out forms. A woman in the street allowed me to use her phone to phone Canada, and I cancelled my cards immediately. It has taken no less than sixteen separate phone calls to at least seven different phone numbers since then, including Panama, Baltimore Maryland, Vancouver, Toronto and Montreal, not to mention Barcelona and Valencia Visa. Yikes! But I found a wonderful Dutch lawyer who spoke fluent French and had just bought a huge amount of land to develop into a community designed for seniors and youth combined. Architecht designed, no less. He walked the streets of Valencia at the hottest time and eventually we found the Western Union where emergency had been sent by Visa.

Tomorrow I will get my replacement card, thanks to the travel agent who let me use her phone for long distance free for hours! Tomorrow, hopefully I will be on the ferry to Ibiza.

What is going on here, do you think? I have spent a great deal of time contemplating the meaning of all this drama and trickery. What is the Universe trying to tell me?

Meanwhile I am reading a fascinating book called The Man Who Loved Anne Frank. From thepoint of view of Peter as if he had survived and kept his vow not to admit he was Jewish or ever tell anyone who he was. All right until he sees Anne's face staring at him from the book cover, in America where he is now marrried. Anyhow, this has set me to thinking I must make a trip to Konskovolia a part of my pilgrimage. Any info you have on that would be much appreciated. I will return to Barcelona and perhaps set out on El Camino, and do part of it, then go to Poland and Germany and France.

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May peace prevail.
Shelora