I always had a feeling that there was "something", but could never put my finger on it!

I think that I once mentioned that I've often (well a few times, anyway) been mistaken for an Arab or a Turk. The first time was in 1976, during our initial foray into foreign parts, in Paris to be precise. It fell to me to ask this old beret wearing French geezer (Colloquialism: geezer = bloke/man.) for directions to St Denis. After a bit of mumbling and grunting out came, "Vous et Arab?" (You are Arab?) I was, of course, indignant!

Nevertheless, since moving to Luxor I'm often mistaken for a Turk, or belonging to some other Middle Eastern country. There's one trader near the tourist souk who always shouts out after me, "Hello Hariri!" Hariri being the murdered Lebanese ex Prime Minister; Rafic Baha El Deen Hariri:

Obviously, the poor beggar isn't as good looking as I am, but there are certain "similarities", I'll admit. But his seemingly elevated position as a mere Prime Minister certainly wouldn't suit me. Oh no!

Did I also tell you that Dear Brother had discovered that on my Dad's side of the family, we were descended from Gypsies? Irish, at that, "so we were"! (So we were, being a typically Irish expression.) Well he's now come up with that which we've been waiting for, although we've known it in our bones for many a long year!!!

My 72nd Great Grandfather was King Lnor Frey of Mesopotamia, now known as Turkey! According to Brother's research, our august forefather was King of Mesopotamia at the time when Pontius Pilate was busy crucifying Jesus of Nazareth. He died in 80AD.

So, if you ever decide to visit us, or even come to stay, you'll need to watch your "P's and Q's". Be warned, we Middle Eastern Royals won't be messed with!

"King Edward", has a certain ring to it, don't you think?

If you brought me one of my cigars, as an act of homage, I might be a little more kindly towards you.

You may go! Actually, no you can't. I forgot something.

While the Queen and I were shopping at Tesco in Gateshead, this afternoon, I noticed that the fabulous old Canadian poet/singer Leonard Cohen had nipped in for a few bits and bobs! I knew that he wasn't there for his weekly shop, as he only had a basket. As usual, he looked immaculate with his silvering hair and wearing a nice black overcoat with his well pressed black trousers sticking out of the bottom. He also had his spectacles on; in order to check the prices, I should think.

Of course, I whipped my camera out, and was about to snap him (as proof, you know?) when the Queen stopped me. Having experience of working in retail, she informed me that it was heavily frowned upon to take photographs in shops, even for a King.

B****r!