Matt Whistler flies high with robot friend Kevin

After last week’s shenanigans that led to a word malfunction on the last paragraph, my semi girlfriend ATM and I had a big row that caused kitchen pans to fly and a temporary split, and I am now lumbered with longstanding chrome robot mate Kevin. As we boarded our Thomson planes at Gatwick I was interested to learn some Thomson flights are now fueled on chip fat; no chips for me, it’s tagine and couscous all the way.

Kevin looked me in the eye and telepathically asked me if I wanted to join the mile high club? “You’re a robot,” I responded, “and you’re called Kevin? And the whole mile high thing doesnt appeal anyway.”

There was an awkward silence until we arrived at the delightful five-star boutique hotel La Maison Arabe, the first ever Boutique hotel in the Medina area of Marrakech.

After a Hammam, a traditional Moorish steam bath and body scrub followed by mud adornment, we retired to our room and drank the famous Berber whiskey, AKA mint tea.

Kevin bacame dizzy and started confusing mysterious Moroccan lamps for robots and spent the next two days trying to get a binary response. I swanned around La Maison Arabe and soon discovered that if I could have time travelled with one of my more accomplished robot friends I would have encountered famous guests like Winston Churchill, Queen Ingrid of Denmark and Charles de Gaulle.

The nighttime pianist in the jazz bar bowled Kevin and I over. We had a late snifter, then retired to our suite. The following day Kevin frog-marched me to the Souk and a monkey grabbed hold of Kevin and I’ve not seen him since.
I was so happy I did a handstand in front of the staff back at the Riad.
To be continued…

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