How do you find a missing Rolex?

I've just taken off after my epic holiday to the UK and US. I feel euphoric about the trip, seeing Depeche Mode twice, U2, playing golf at two of the world's top golf courses. Yet I am miserable about losing a watch given to me after my uncle died. It was a tragic death. He committed suicide, and my aunt gave it to me about 15 years ago to remember all the good times from his life. It was a 1978 classic Rolex Oyster Perpetual GMT Master. There are two aspects: the sheer financial value - the exact watch just got auctioned on Christies for $7000, and the sentimental value. The Aunt who gave it to me is currently dying from cancer - the watch is a link to my memory of her and my uncle.



I am bitter about the way the watch was lost. I was playing golf at one of the world's most exclusive golf courses. I put the watch in a pocket on the side of the hire clubs bag with my camera. After the game I removed everything from the bag, but clearly forgot the watch. Later that afternoon, as my cousins prepared to take me to the station, I realized I did not have my watch with me. I frantically searched, but knew I had left it in the bag. We raced back to the club, but the watch was not there. My cousins clearly believed / hoped I had lost it in my suitcases somewhere. I hoped so too, but knew deep down I had left it in the golf bag. I hoped that an employee who had perhaps left earlier had found it and put it away somewhere.

Later that evening, I spoke to my cousin who was clearly stressed. He went back the next day and searched through all the pockets of all the hire clubs. He left the details of the watch club and hoped it would be handed in. I felt bad that my carelessness had resulted in the stress for my cousin's family.

The watch went missing on Friday. It's now Sunday night and there is no sign of the watch. Things are likely to get more complicated from here. Perhaps, although I think it unlikely, the watch may be covered by travel insurance arising from booking the trip on my credit card. If so, I am sure they will insist I report the missing watch to the UK police. This will I am sure cause embarrassment to my cousin - a member at the exclusive golf club. I would think the police would want to speak to the golf shop employees. Further complicating this, I am sure the UK police would not be happy about me leaving the country before reporting the loss.

A good thing is that Rolexes can only be serviced by authorized dealers. I have had the watch serviced and will be able to get its serial number from the jeweler.

The other part of me is so furious at the likely theft. I want to unleash the fury of hell on the culprit.

Let's hope for a miracle - that the watch gets handed in tomorrow. Otherwise, this is putting a serious damper on what was an amazing holiday.

Is my burglar mad?

So I was robbed. And he came back. So robbers do sometimes come back. Once.

But last night he came back again and tried to rob my neighbours. Oh yes.

The bugger is so bold, he didn't waste any sleep this time. At 22h00, my neighbour's wife walked into the bedroom and was confronted by the sight of a dread locked man standing in her garden. Of course she screamed. This either did not bother the burglar - or he froze before bolting.

I was in the shower when my phone rang. I am the body corporate trustee in charge of security. "Sorry to bother you so late IITQ, but would this be a convenient time to talk?"

My neighbour must be the most polite person on earth. "(L) spotted a guy in our garden and we've let the guards know and called the police. Should I be doing anything else?"

So I called our suburb's security and once again we had ex-soldiers (ex-recces, the SA equivalent of the SAS/Marines) with assault rifles running through the complex.

Naturally our gardening staff are a little concerned - they are after all having polygraph tests today. So post us having not found the terrorist again, one of the gardeners volunteered to take the security guys to the homeless vagrants up the road to quiz them. Shortly later I had two scared looking vagrants on my doorstep, one munching hungrily on some bread. Odd. But I didn't question that - other things were more odd and more pressing.

My gardener, "These guys know the guy who owns the bag we found with the torch from your house. He has dreadlocks and his name is Terence."

Alrighty. Turns out Terence is a Zimbabwean who smash and grabs from cars in Sandton, sells dagga to the builders in the area and has the nickname Rasta. It seems the man's talents are expanding.

Talents which, by the way, include getting over electric fences, past guards and up 2,5m walls.

By now, half the world's private security and the police are in my complex. I take the homeless to the police and they repeat the story. The police and the suburb security resolve to catch the man the next day. For his sake, I hope the police get him first. The security have offered to bring him to me.

Meanwhile, my home is becoming a massive worksite and interrogation room. The polygrapher is in my study quizzing the frightened gardeners. The alarm people are rewiring and adding everywhere. By coincidence the pond guy arrived to fix something. The carpenter arrived to fix my damaged door and lock. The complex security management are on their way. My client deliverables are way behind. And I write a maths exam next week. And I need sleep.

Oh, turns out one of the ex-recces bought the vagrant the bread as a tongue loosener. Apparently it worked.

WTF?

After sleeping through my Monday night robbery, I was awake for its reprise last night.

I'd worked until 03h00 and was settling in for my sleep when I heard a noise. Armed with a piece of steel rebar that has been beside my bed since Monday, I inched down the dark passage. Never turn the lights on they say - you become a better target for a bullet.

I rounded the corner to see the shape of a crouching burglar on my patio. My shout as I chased towards him was the weird roar, "You fucking bastard!"

The dark shape turned and ran. He slipped as he tried to cross my koi pond. In a flash he was up again. He raced across the garden an vaulted the garden wall into the complex gardens.

I raced back to my room, called the police, suburb security and armed response.

I spent the next hour scouring the complex with first the suburb security, ex-recces with assault rifles, then the police and then the armed response.

Nothing. Either this guy knows a good way over our boundary wall and electric fence or he's coming from the inside.

All I know is he's one brazen fucker.

How do you technically recover from laptop theft?

Right. So after the recent excitement of a stolen laptop, I need to go through the process of setting up a new laptop and recovering data, etc.

I'll make this useful by blogging about the IT trials and tribulations on my tech blog.

In the mean time, consider the following:

• Install a stolen laptop tracker on your PC - if the fuckers ever connect to the net, it'll let you know and provide their ISP details


• Keep invoices, serial numbers, etc in a safe place to facilitate police and insurance reports


• Get one of those cable alarms that screams if your laptop is moved


• Backups really are important - use a syncronisation app like iFolder to sync your laptop with the server when it connects to the network


• Encrypt your harddrive - I am now a prime candidate for identity theft


• Password protect the BIOS on your laptop - same reason as above

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So I've been busy setting up the new laptop. What a mission. Anyway, it is a beautiful new beast. Follow the progress on my techie blog.

Here it is:








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