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" . . . a stunner to discover the front door off its hinges on return from the Supermacado with the week’s groceries. It was quite a substantial front door. The officer-of-the-law who soon attended confirmed a burgling gang operated in the area targeting coastal apartments of tourists. Their means of entry often via the sledgehammer technique - in this case, it seems they had been casing-the-joint for a while, waiting until I’d gone out. I’d go out mostly everyday to shop or walk along the beach, not least to sketch parts of this coast. Then they’d come bursting into the place. They got away with petty cash, a pair of my favourite Levi jeans and a bowl, fruit an’all – I think they took the bowl, made locally, easy to sell on – or maybe they were peckish for the oranges therein - the officer confirmed that they would have been in and out within 90 seconds – smash and grab. A carpenter sent by the apartment block manager fixed the door that same day. I could sleep at night, or could I? Second happenstance 2am . . . . "