Stranger in Paradise


I’m writing this from a hotel balcony overlooking the expanse of the Aegean Sea in Greece.
Worlds away from restrictive dry Riyadh, my sense of freedom is acute and my joy is full.
All I can hear are the gentle lap of waves on the pebbled shore below and in my view is a Cruise Princess liner elegantly making her way into the port of Patra. The sound of the muezzin is now replaced by the church bells tolling from the nearby church on this sunny Sunday morning. I feel so free I want to cry. Yesterday I was on the steps of the Parthenon with a hoard of people I did not expect to find touring Greece in September. We stayed in the quaint enclave of Plaka at the foot of the Acropolis eating all the homely meals I grew to love from my father’s kitchen.
This vacation is a soothing balm for my soul after the harsher atmosphere of life in a Riyadh hotel.
To feel the sun on my bare arms as I walked hand in hand with my husband today was priceless, so innocent and yet forbidden to me in Riyadh.
If only the Riyadhites could chillax too, it would make life there a lot happier.
Meanwhile I have lots more sun rays to catch under the Agean sky.
Forgive me if I don’t stop to write for the rest of my stay here.


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