Japan, Greece, Holland

Every Breath You Take… would be impossible without the world’s trees, and as Sting sang at a gala to celebrate twenty years of his Rainforest Foundation, I felt a shiver run down my spine.


I get calls from Malaysia, Russia, Mexico… my mobile phone never sleeps. And when I’m talking long-distance, I am totally focused — it’s as though my mind flies across those thousands of miles, and I don’t seem to see the real world around me.

So I was not surprised to read that psychologists at a US university have proved it’s almost impossible to walk in a straight line, let alone take any notice of what’s going on, when you’re engrossed in a phone conversation.

In the experiment, students were observed as they strolled around the campus of Western Washington University, while a clown on a unicycle pedalled round them. Students who had been talking on phones later admitted that they hadn’t even seen the clown.

Since I arrived in Athens, I’ve nearly been run over twice, because I read my emails while I’m walking.

We spotted the Uri-bus today, as we left our hotel to walk up to the Acropolis. It’s an ordinary public transport vehicle that has been transformed into a vast advertising hoarding, with my face wrapped across the side and every inch of paintwork covered with artwork from the show.



I really don’t want to get knocked down by my own Uri-bus because I’m concentrating too hard on a phone call. Maybe I’d better start leaving my BlackBerry in my pocket.

The Greek capital is full of fascinating sights. We’ve just come back from dinner, in a restaurant where the walls were lined with coloured bottles, thousands of them, standing on shelves and backlit by bright lights. The rainbow effect shimmered around us — it was like eating in an aquarium, surrounded by thousands of tropical fish.


In the streets there are packs of plump street dogs. They are wary but friendly, and certainly well-fed — I don’t know whether it’s the tourists or the locals, but somebody is making sure these canines don’t go hungry.

All Greeks smoke. It must be the law. Whether you’re sitting inside a cafe or on the pavement, the fug and fumes are everywhere. It’s revolting, especially after the clean restaurants of England and Japan.

I can’t wait to launch my interactive challenge for smokers when my live show kicks off — I’ve set myself a target of empowering 100,000 people to quit nicotine.

In fact, I’m bursting to do the first broadcast. The set looks fabulous — it is dominated by the biggest spoon on the planet, snaking under the stage. My chair is in the bowl… I just hope I don’t get carried away and bend it, because I will be dumped on the studio floor with millions of viewers watching.

After intense debates with the design team, we chose a red chair, which makes a dramatic contrast with the eerie blue lighting.


It’s a million dollar look — and I should know, because I had the chance to hold an untold fortune in gold in my hands, during my one-day visit to Tokyo. I was the guest of honour at a thirtieth anniversary party thrown by a company which is run by dear friends.

The boss, Mr Kabata, unveiled a mountain of precious metal, and invited me to hold the ingots and infuse them with energy. I gripped one in my hand for about five seconds, and it was suddenly hot — a familiar phenomenon to me, since the objects I energise, especially metal and crystals, often become too hot to hold.

I handed it to Mr Kabata and he was too shocked to speak.

I was shocked too, when Shipi reminded me that I would be back in Tokyo on November 11th… once again, just for a day trip. This time, a PR firm have hired an auditorium so that 2,000 of my fans can meet me in person.

I enjoy flying around the world, especially when I get the chance to meet the flight crew. On my jumbo last week, there were 19 British Airways staff, including the pilots, and I bent a spoon for every one of them.

On the ground that would exhaust me, but I find it much easier to bend metal when I’m thousands of feet in the air, or deep under water.

Maybe it’s nothing to do with the altitude or the depth: the effect is caused, I believe, when Im completely encased in a metal tube, whether that’s an aeroplane or a submarine.

The problem on my next trip is that you can’t fly direct from Athens to Tokyo… so I’ll have to return to Heathrow and make a connection. The producers of The Greek Uri Geller are understandably nervous that I’ll miss a flight and end up stranded, unable to do the live show.

I’ve told them they must use a military man for my stand-in. Only a soldier could keep order over my ambitious, unpredictable contestants.

And I insisted that he must be a General at least. So while they’re sorting out that headache, I’ll make sure I don’t miss any aeroplanes.






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