A lot less fun than lock-ins.  On Thursday, for the second week in a row, I returned to find all was not as I’d left it in my apartment.

The first week my wallet was gone, not my everyday wallet, but the pre-setting-up-a-bank-account-because-I-need-to-wait-until-I-have-utility-bills wallet.  Suffice to say at the time I was more than slightly upset, mostly because the fear of losing money when not working, and strict budgeting is crucial, left me feeling desolate; but after a nights sleep and a lot of reassurance from friends that there are far worse things to lose, my health and my cats safety for instance, I picked myself up to continue on.  Money can be replaced.  It was money I’d planned to spend in due course after all.

The police were less than helpful, without evidence of a break-in they said there was nothing to pursue.

This week we had a far more brazen invasion.  Whether they used a key or broke in through a terrace door remains to be seen.  There was a lot of glass on the terrace, and our inner Miss Marples nodded appreciatively when the police suggested it looked like the glass had been smashed from the inside and pushed out.  Given the brittle glass pieces across the lounge, I still don’t know how the cats paws are unharmed, thanks for small mercies.

The police (who were much more attentive in round two) said they’d send a fingerprint expert in the morning, so we weren’t to touch anything.  Adhere to these rules we did, I slept on a yacht, and left everything as is; my dad commented that we were lucky the holes in the door were too small/high for the cats to escape.  Unfortunately, not so much the window the burglars left open.  When I returned to meet the fingerprint expert I found one very unhappy cat, screaming because she hates being left on her own, which could only mean one thing; the other had escaped.

With my remaining valuables in my handbag I set off down the road, calling for my cat, hoping he’d call back.  Whilst also thinking to myself that I’m stuck in some Truman Show parallel universe where everything which can go wrong, goes wrong, for the amusement of the powers that be.  The cat calls back, he’s in a locked sunken garden about ten doors down, I can’t get in and he can’t get out; eventually I persuade him to jump high enough up the wall that I can lean over and catch him and haul him the rest of the way….. job done, we’re a three again.

We’ve had the locks changed, twice (the glass men accidentally broke the key in the lock whilst putting the glass in).  We’ve experienced fingerprinting powder and the mess it leaves behind – I think both cats and myself will have black feet for weeks.  We’ve had a door taken out, to have it then go awol for an hour, whilst the man who was supposed to repair it in situ chased it across Tenerife.

So, what did they take?

– Currency:  Non EUR, lots of random notes.  I am intrigued as to what happens when they realise the value of one hundred trillion Zimbabwe dollars ($300 USD at issue, $0.40 now).
– Laptop:  Not the new one, the one with all my photos and documents on.  Years will go by before I stop missing this.
– Usb dvd player:  I have been meaning to buy a dvd player for the tv, guess that’s a job for tomorrow, otherwise I’ll never know what happens in The Good Wife.
– My running backpack:  The Glastonbury 2015 canvas bag was on the same shelf, they’d have got a bit of history rather than a sweaty, haggard piece of my life.
– Jewellery:  They took the whole box, mostly sentimental, one of those situations where you’d pay more to retrieve than they’d ever make from selling on.
– Perfume:  Limited edition.  Treated myself before I left the UK, didn’t even get to take the box out of the plastic.  Guess it teaches you about the foolishness of “saving” something.
– Water:  They took a bottle of water from the fridge, opening a six pack in the process; how long were they in the apartment to require a cold beverage?!
– Sheep’s cheese:  No joke.  A large piece of sheep’s cheese.

The above makes for a rather bizarre shopping list, rotters.

Onwards!