Ain Sokhna, Egypt: and a tale of the alabaster sky

Just 2 hours from Cairo there's a haven, called Ain Sokhna.  A respite from Cairo's heat, noise, and pollution.  A place, most importantly, on the sea.

And so it was that  a colleague and I....

Or really, two colleagues and I.....

Well, actually 10 colleagues and I made our way there.  To Ain Sokhna.

We stayed in the Stella Di Mare Golf Hotel & Resort.

Mmmm...old world and pretty.

Oh, even the details were lovely.

But I envied him most of all.

Because he lived under a paneled real alabaster sky......

Find out more here about Stella Di Mare Golf Hotel & Resort in Ain Sokhna.

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PS I leave for surf camp in Mirleft, Morocco tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow.  Follow my sandy adventures on Twitter right here.

Mali: and a tale of African trade beads

Sometimes when I wake up in the morning, I'm not sure what country I'm in. I blink and I try to make out whether I'm in a hotel room or home in my own bed.

But no matter where I am, there are always beads in my shopping bag.

Beautiful old Venetian trade beads.

Favorite vintage glass beads from Sudan.

Incredible antique glass beads from Mali.

Huge gorgeous old Venezia glass beads from Dogonland.

Enormous bone beads from Kenya. Light wood black and silver Tuareg prayer beads.

So lovely antique white and turquoise glass beads from Mali.

 Intricate hooks I designed and had handmade to hang my beads  (and everything else) on.  Inspired by Ethiopia. 

PS I've just arrived in Cairo and tomorrow I hit the road.  Follow my adventures on Twitter  here. 

PPS Gorgeous new stock of Moroccan Beni Ourain carpets and sequined wedding blankets for sale.  Take a peek right here. 

Mali: and a bitter tale of missing parts

He's my third, she said, smiling.  And I envied her then.  Not her youth.  Not her beauty.

But her baby. 

Oh I had had my babies, of course.  But they were big now.  Immersed in their ipods, their knitting, their friends.

You see,  I,  too, had wanted a third. But my husband, he.....he had said no.  He had said that two were plenty.  And what could I do, really?  And so a  kernel had formed, tiny but unyielding -- the kind that would break your teeth if you bit down hard enough.  Just a little bit bitter about the missing third.... 

about the one I never had. 

Oh, it was ridiculous really.  After all, what kind of mother was I?  Always busy.  Dashing from one country to the next.  In front of the computer, the fingers flying, the Blackberry rattling against the desk. 

But I envied her, nonetheless.  Not her youth, not her beauty.

But her baby.

Mali: and a tale of life and laughter

Oh, I've been to many places........

But I have never been to a place where people laughed more than in Mali.

The kind of laughter where you have to wipe your eyes, not once but twice.

The kind of laughter that  when you try to stop and speak, you just laugh again.

The kind of laughter where you (seriously) might fall sideways out of your chair.

It might seem slightly deranged if it weren't so adorable. 

I love being around people who make it a priority to laugh, really laugh.  

And I can't help but laugh, too.  Hard.

 
Do you laugh enough?  What can you do to laugh more?