Hilde turned up this morning. Turned out she'd arrived last night with no contact details so checked into a hotel and caught up with us this morning via the internet and tourist offices. We met up at Café de France and had a few coffees before showing her the Riyad - which she seemed to like.

In the afternoon, we encountered our first little glimpse at hostility. Someone had a go at me for being a tourist and taking a photo, but it was "I'm walking away from you so I'll shout a bit because you'll never catch up" abuse rather than anything worrying. It was intriguing, although I know some people here believe it's bad spiritually to have their photo taken.

Everything, apparently, is my fault - according to Brian who blamed me for Hilde not turning up and then added the rest of the world's problems. This, in turn, led us to the insightful realisation that in Buddhist terms I am the cause of all effect - the anti-karma, as it were - and that I should never meet the Dalai Lama because he'd explode. Or something.

In the same lunch, we also discussed the ghetto-isation of various quarters in cities and how terrible it was, until we likened it with Americans and their similar treatment of whole countries. At least we've given most of the Empire back. This was brought about by Hilde's relating the experience of seeing ox-drawn buses in Havana due to the fuel embargo from the US. It sounded quite a nice place to go until she pointed out that the last time she went, two of the people she was travelling with disappeared the day before they were due to leave and have not been heard from since.

Later on, after a little snooze and meeting houseboy 1's brother, we headed out again to Ali to get something to eat, but I've been feeling somewhat not quite right. An emotional thing, I think, not physical - although my appetite's a little low.

So I decided to examine my "afflictive emotions" and isolate the causes which boiled down to as yet not completely determined anxiety and a sudden culture rush. There was something else as well but I don't remember. Quite an interesting exercise.

I've always maintained that I travel by picking up my life and dropping it elsewhere to just carry on doing stuff. I've got a lifetime to explore the world so it doesn't matter if I don't do everything the first time I'm in a place. But it seems that I've not been able to fully integrate bits of my life - clubbing, pubbing and that kind of thing - successfully into Morocco. After all, drinking is difficult, homosexuality doesn't officially exist and there's a distinct shortage of fag hags.

Hilde's presence has obviously improved the conversation enormously - far away from talk of bottoms and endless giggling at the slightest provocation. Yet it remains a wonderful experience and I'm really glad I'm here. I can't help feeling slightly displaced as no longer had I started to settle in France, I'm somewhere else - and I'm wondering what to call a base. Things'll probably lighten up when Liam, Nicola and Liam's parents arrive tomorrow.

I have become aware of quite how lucky I am having circumstance around me that afford me opportunities to travel like this. I can't wait to see more of the world. Apart from the bits with bed bugs.

Houseboy 1 offered laundry services today. I casually managed to show him a teeshirt with some pink stuff on it (now brown) and brought it into conversation. He's at least now aware that I know.

Received some text messages sent three days ago. Not sure whether that's here or the fact the networks in the UK have been overloaded with Yuletide messages of joy.

Saw someone carrying a surfboard down the street. I really didn't understand that.

There are apparently five hundred plain-clothed police officers patrolling La Place at any given time - according to Hilde. This is because they're so in need of the tourism that they specifically make sure that the busy places are safe. This didn't help them stop someone stealing 800F of the Riyad rent money from my bag sometime over the last few days.

Oddly, when we were out, I did think about that and wondered whether it was all still in one piece or not. A premonition, even. At the time, my newly found Lama-esque tendences led me to think that if it wasn't there then, there was no point rushing back as it still wouldn't be there a few hours later. I had forgotten the whole thing but something as I went to bed reminded me and I checked to discover we were down.

We think it's either a member of the staff (possibly the departed one) or one of the many people who've been in to visit whilst we've been here. We can pretty much discount the first possibility as far as present employ is concerned, simply because there would be too much at stake. After all, if it was him, he'd lose his house, job and probably a few fingers. It's more likely to be one of the lads who've been hanging around over the last few days. We discounted someone coming in over the roof simply because they'd have taken everything as there'd be nothing to gain by hiding the crime.

It may well even have happened whilst we were on the roof being plied with tea. Who knows. Little point trying to figure it out.

So the plan is that tomorrow - before the others arrive - we will search out new accommodation. Then we'll tell Paul (the Riyad owner in France) that we're moving out because it wasn't quite to our expectations, only letting on the truth when we finally return to France. We've paid a third of the rent up-front and given our stay was three weeks initially, we're pretty much quits.

This solves a few issues. Firstly, we get to keep on with our holiday and feel safe somewhere else; there's no point staying here if we feel our things are in danger. Secondly, the houseboys don't find out what's gone on until we're safe from retribution. We don't know, after all, whether this is a scam or not or whether accusing one of them would lead us to become the target of the others' anger. Thirdly, by not implicating the staff, we won't stand accused of having smoked naughties or shagged boys - therefore avoiding police contact or ending up in sightly less solubrious accommodation with one toilet between a few dozen and a nice striped view of the world outside.

We see this is as the best solution.

I gained endless Miss Marple points for all my deductions.