Saturday

29 December
I woke up at 7.30 and prepared to go to teach at Thong Lor. Yesterday, my school rang to tell me that I was to teach there. But when I rang my student’s mother, she told me that the school had got it all wrong. The next class wasn’t until after the new year. Thankfully, I ate a leisurely breakfast and decided what to do with my free day.

I lunched at Pi Baby’s café. Mario the Italian was there. He looked up morosely as I entered.

“So,” he said. “I have four days off – and I don’t know what I’m going to do. If I go out of this soi then I will have to spend money. My girlfriend is stay with me. She is crazy about shopping. Always she spend, spend, spend. But it is all her money – I don’t spend for her. But you know the girls they like a man to spend his money on them. It is the only way a girl can appreciate you…”

I nodded in sympathy. “Yes, you’re quite right,” I said, glancing across at Mina. “Take my girlfriend, for example. Always everyday, I have to spend at least 20 baht on her…”

“Don’t say it!” interrupted Mina, her dark eyes flashing. “Always I pay for you. It’s MY money! Yesterday, I sent one thousand on you. I bought you a shirt, when we went to Krabi, I paid for that 5 star hotel…”

“It’s a lot of money,” continued Mario. “I remember, I go back to visit my girlfriend in London. She want to eat at this restaurant, Chinese restaurant. We eat duck, you know. And she want to order a whole duck and the bill it thirty-eight pounds! THIRTY-EIGHT pounds! Unbelievable. And of course I have to pay the bill. Thirty-eight pounds…”

“I think I’m going back to America,” said Mina, stamping her foot. “People there appreciate me. I’m tired of Thailand and Thai people…”

“It’s completely crazy,” said Mario. “I mean, you just leave this soi and…puffff! You spend one thousand baht…”

I left the two of them to it and returned to my apartment.

In the evening, Mina and I had dinner at the British Club. We were treated to some Thai style service. I ordered a jacket potato, salad and beans. When my order came, the jacket potato had been magically changed into beans on toast.

After some time spent explaining to the confused looking waiter, my order was taken away to be changed. While we were waiting for the replacement, Mina’s order arrived. She had asked for the vegetarian pizza. It turned out to be the strangest looking pizza we’d ever seen. After a few mouthfuls, she discovered that it was Sweet Fried Chicken Curry on Pizza.

While Mina went to the toilet to vomit (she is allergic to meat), I remonstrated with our waiter.

“Oh,” he said, looking bewildered. “I didn’t know that she was a vegetarian!”

Like many Thais, he’d obviously thought that vegetarian food was “mai aroi” and had kindly decided to change her order for something more palatable. I could just imagine the scene in the kitchens as he discussed our order with the chef.

“He’s ordered jacket potato. Well that’s not going to be nice. Let’s change it to beans on toast. She says she wants vegetarian pizza. Urgh! Give her the fermented fish som dum…it’s my favourite. What? We’re out of fermented fish? Hmmmm how about dumping some nice chicken curry on the pizza base instead…”

28 December
Today is Friday and my parents came to Bangkok for the day. I took Mina to meet them at the British Club. We had lunch together and Mina lost no time in telling them that I was a no-good, jow chew who would stick his nong chai into any girl without a tail etc. It was a pleasant change to hear her saying all this to someone other than myself for a change. We went home in an amiable mood and did not argue until after my evening students had left. It was a good day.

Thursday

26 December
Today I taught two evening lessons. Mina and I did not go anywhere during the day and so Mina soon became bored and, during the late afternoon, started to think about her favourite activity – arguing.

“I think I’m going to go back to Pattani,” she announced. “I’m sick and tired of arguing with you. All you can think about is other girls. Any girl. No matter if she is ugly or beautiful. It’s like, oh this girl has no tail – I will put my nong chai into her…”

I held up my hand to stop her before she got too carried away. “Mina,” I said patiently. “I’m getting old. I’m going to be 32 next month. I haven’t got time to listen to other people. I don’t like to listen, I like to talk. Now I need to go and eat because I have a class soon. Do you want to join me?”

“No, I don’t want to join you! I’m not hungry. And I don’t want to eat with a jowchew good-for-nothing etc…”

I went to Pi Baby’s. While I was eating, Mina sent me a text message saying she was catching the 9pm flight to Pattani, that she was never going to see me again, and that she wished me luck with my future girlfriend.

I finished my meal and returned to my apartment. It was nearly time for my student to arrive. Mina was still there, looking pleased with herself. Two large suitcases stood waiting near the door.

“No, I’m NOT going to change my mind!” she declared. “When I walk out of this room, you’re never going to see me again! You can be happy with all you kiks…”

I interrupted. “You’ve forgotten to pack your jewelry,” I pointed out.

She started to tell me that she didn’t want it, that I could give it all to my future girlfriends when there was a knock on the door and my student entered.

“Good evening!” he smiled.

“Good evening, Simon,” I said. “Mina, this is Simon my student. Simon, this is Mina my girlfriend.”

Simon shook her hand and then eyed the two suitcases by the door. His smile widened. “You are leaving?” he enquired.

Mina and I looked at each other and laughed. “Shall I tell him?” asked Mina.

“Yes, tell him,” I said. “In English!”

Tuesday

The coffin house, night and day...









25 December
Today is Christmas day. Ok, so you knew that anyway! This morning we gave breakfast to the monks. It was the final thing of my grandmother’s funeral. It has taken seven days. Seven exhausting days. I think the western way is better.

The last breakfast was finished off by my uncle and aunt giving money to the monks – which is forbidden by the laws set down by the Buddha – but was accepted nevertheless.

Mina came today. She told me that she was happy to see me, that she was glad that I was such a nice, good and handsome boyfriend etc. In short, the opposite of what she usually says. I don’t know what has possessed her to come out with such sweet words – but I rather suspect that that it won’t last long!

Saturday

21 December
Today I taught Amy in the morning. She and her family are going to Italy for Christmas so I shall have some days off. Perhaps I will go to Koh Samet for a few days. But first, I must attend my grandmother’s funeral this Monday.

After I had taught Amy, I had lunch at Pi Baby’s café and met John, an ex-pat from East London. He had recently split up from his Thai girlfriend of six years and was still feeling aggrieved about it.
“You know what?” he said as he sipped at his water. “Lots of people like to go on about the Thai culture of “Mai pen rai” but I tell you, most of the time it’s just sheer apathy! You miss the bus – mai pen rai. Some poor geezer gets run over on a motorbike – mai pen rai. Somebody’s getting beaten up – mai pen rai…none of our business. I mean, we British are an interfering people. Sometimes that can be bad – but sometimes it can be good as well."

Thursday

Buddhist monks chant over the body of my dead grandmother

19 December
This morning I taught Amy. We read Thumbelina. I vaguely remembered reading it as a young boy but, coming back to it as an adult, I was rather surprised at the explicitness of this old fairytale.

Once upon a time, there was a woman who lived alone in the middle of a wood. She had a beautiful garden full of flowers. She liked to work in her garden to keep her hands busy.

The woman was very lonely. “I want a child!” she said. “If only I had a child!”

At night when she was alone in her bed and her hands were not busy with the flowers in the garden, she would say:

“I want a child! I want a child!”

One day, a strange old man came to her house while she was working in the garden with her flowers. He spoke kindly to the woman.

“You look sad, my dear,” he said.

“I want a child,” said the woman. “I am lonely and I want a child!”

The strange old man smiled. “I will give you a child!” he said. “I have a magic seed. We will put this magic seed in your pot tonight and in the morning you shall have the child you want!”

So the woman put the strange old man’s magic seed in her pot that night and the next morning she found a beautiful little girl kneeling on her flower.

“Why, you are only as big as my thumb!” said the woman. “I shall call you Thumbelina.”

So she did and they all lived happily ever after.

Amy put the book down and we started revising the simple past tense. I found myself wondering what happened to the strange old man. Did he live happily ever after? I rather suspect he did, in his own fashion. After all, there must have been plenty of other gullible lonely women wanting his ‘magic’ seed.

In the afternoon, I went to Chachoengsao to attend one of the funeral rites for my grandmother. There will be seven days of monks chanting in the temple for her and then on Monday, her body will be burned and that will be that.

I went to the temple early with my parents to receive the guests. After the chanting, there would be food for everybody. My grandmother’s coffin lay in state at one end of the temple hall, surrounded by flowers, joss sticks and candles. Hundreds of plastic chairs had been provided for the guests. At the front were some rather impressive carved rosewood seats. I asked my mother who they were for.

“They are for the extinguished guests,” she told me.

Tuesday

The body of my grandmother waits for the monks


17 September
This morning I taught at the local temple school. At one-thirty, it was time to leave and I asked Pi Nun to take me to Big C. I intended to see Kik briefly before catching the coach back to Bangkok. I was just saying goodbye to Kik when my mother rang to tell me that my grandmother had died peacefully in her sleep at lunch time.

Although she was nearly ninety and had died peacefully, it was still very sad news. She had been such a wonderful person with a great sense of humour and a heart of gold. Kik told me not to worry.

“Are you going to cry, Pi Ben? Well, you don’t need to. In Buddhism we know that everyone must die and your grandmother is very old so it’s ok. It’s only her body that’s dead. She’s going to go to a better place. My grandmother’s dying too. She’s in the hospital now. She just sleeps now. Soon she will die. It is the way.”

I thanked her for her concern. She nodded. “I will ring Gook and tell her the news,” she said.

“Don’t!” I said. My grandmother was very popular with my cousins. “She will cry. Let her mother or someone else tell her.”

“Don’t be silly! Of course she’s not going to cry!”

She opened her phone and dialed. “Hello Gook? Where are you? Yes, I’m with Pi Ben. Yes, he’s not going back to Bangkok today because, of course, his grandmother’s died…What? Yes, she’s just died. Didn’t you know? Hey, why are you crying…?”

She handed me the phone. “She’s crying!” she said.

I took the phone and put it to my ear. “Hello Gook,” I said somberly.

“Pi Ben!” wailed Gook at the other end. “Grandmother is dead! And I didn’t go to see her before she died! Ooooooh!”

I comforted her as best I could and then rang my lawyer student to cancel our lesson this evening. I returned to my grandmother’s house.

My grandmother was lying in her bed. Her body had already been washed and her hair combed neatly. She looked just as if she were asleep. Bending over her, it seemed incredible that she should be dead. Her face was serene and peaceful. I felt a sudden gratitude that she had gone so easily and painlessly in the home that she’d lived in all her life. So many people die young, in pain, far from their home and family.

She is the first dead person that I have ever seen.

Various relatives started to arrive to pay their respects to the dead. My grandmother had lived a long life and had been a popular figure in the community. Soon there were twenty or thirty people wandering about, chatting, arguing about the funeral, making food discussing what should be done.

In the evening, four monks came and chanted over the dead body while candles were lit and incense was burnt.

More people were still arriving. Tables were set up and laid outside the house by the river and everyone started eating and talking. Nong Varn told Bom not to whistle as it would “call the ghosts”. Laughter and loud talk rang out as relatives who had seen each other for years caught up on the latest news and gossip. A Thai funeral is a social event.

Buddhist monks chant over the body of my dead grandmother





16 September
Today, I came to Chachoengsao. I had a strange but interesting experience coming down. The fastest way to get to Chachoengsao from Bangkok is via train. Thai ordinary trains tend to be incredibly cheap – but the downside to this is that they also tend to be hot, dirty and crowded. However, once a day, an air conditioned express runs at (I thought) 12.20 from Hualanpong.

I took the subway from my apartment. I arrived at 12.13 – to find that the train departed at 12.10, not 12.20.

I decided not to panic but use the Secret instead. I envisaged a comfortable empty seat on my train and then made my way to platform 10. There was a huge crowd gathered. But no train. I asked the nearest man if the train to Chachoengsao had left yet. He told me that it hadn’t come yet.

Just then, a woman announced in Thai over the public address system that the train to Chachoengsao was running late and would arrive at platform 10 in 20 minutes. I went off to the local mini mart to get some lunch.

When I returned, five minutes later, the train was already at the platform at people were swarming all over it like frantic ants. Thais may be well mannered, polite people most of the time – but when it comes to trains, all that disappears. They barge, shove, queue jump and fight to get a seat first.

As I joined the scrum to enter the last carriage, I discovered that this crowd was no exception. It was a case of biggest and strongest first. Everyone seemed to carrying an extraordinary amount of luggage as well.

I edged closer to the door and saw through the windows that all the seats were taken and people were now competing for the best standing room. A fat woman with unpleasantly dyed red hair pushed in front of me and squeezed in the doorway. I did not retaliate but kept envisaging my empty comfortable seat waiting for me.

I entered the carriage and shuffled along with the crowd towards the end of the train. It was completely packed. People who had already reached the end of the carriage without finding seats were coming back the other way. The fat woman with the dyed red hair turned back too.

I was struggling to squeeze between her big hips and the full seats when suddenly I saw my empty seat waiting for me. I could hardly believe it. This was the first time I had successfully envisaged anything.

“Is this seat taken?” I asked the woman sitting next to it. Perhaps she was saving it for her husband or something.

“No, it’s free,” she said.

I sat down. For some reason, this carriage seemed more comfortable than usual. It was cleaner and there were individually controlled ceiling fans in addition to the air conditioning. The seats were covered with velour instead of plastic and there were foldaway stainless steel footrests as well.

I reclined my seat back, stretched out luxuriously and smiled.

Friday

14 November
This morning, I took the opportunity of catching up on sleep and got up late. Then I went to have lunch with my father at the British Club, as I do every Friday.

As I walked into the club, I met Pi Piro.

“How are you?” I asked.

He beamed. “Yesterday I won the Thai National Tennis Championship! It is the first time!”

“Wow!” I said and shook his hand. “Well done!”

“Thank you my friend. The important lesson is never to give up. If I cannot win it at 25 then I must keep trying and win it when I am 50! Now I am waiting for my friend. We are going to discuss an important new invention which we hope to make a lot of money out of.”

I wished him luck and then went off to find my father. He was talking to Jack, an old friend of his from England.

“I’ve just bought a condo down Rama 3 way,” Jack was saying. “But I’m not looking at it as an investment. I don’t think it’s worth investing in Thailand these days. Not in property, anyway. I mean, you might make a profit – but I wouldn’t bank on it. I’ve still got the place in Hua Hin…beautiful down there…should go there and stay someday…”

I greeted my father and then went to swim. When I got back, Jack had gone.

At four o’clock, I left the club to go and teach Amy. I taught for two hours and then returned to my apartment. I changed and then went to eat at Pi Baby’s café. I met a girl I’d known who’d worked in the office of my last apartment. Her name was Dee but everyone called her “Nok Huak” or “Owl” because of her love of nocturnal activities. She had dyed her long hair brown, put a curly twist to it and was wearing green contact lenses.

She told me that she was now working for the mobile phone company True at Fortune IT City at Rama 9.

“What do you do there?” I asked.

“Customer Service,” she said.

“Do you have to speak English?”

“Yes, but all I say “Hello, jup jup kiss, goodbye. If I can say more than I have higher salary.”

“Well why don’t you learn to speak English then?”

“Because I afraid make mistake.”

“You’re crazy! How can you learn if you don’t make mistakes, eh? It’s easy. You just learn some basics first and then go on.”

“Will you teach me free?”

“Yes, if you want.”

“It too difficult. Is speak Thai difficult?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Huh! See!” she said triumphantly. “So English too difficult for me. Cannot. Afraid make mistakes. Cannot do.”


Wednesday

Me trying to catch a train in Bangkok...


On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love rang me to say that she didn’t want to see me again because I was a no-good “luke krung” who wasn’t even a proper farang and told me that she was going to travel south-east Asia by bike with a friend of hers. I wished her luck but warned her that to cycle across south-east Asia was going to take longer than to cycle to work at the Green Mango on Samui.

Today I had two lessons, both in the same private housing estate. The first student just wanted to practice conversation. I was shown into a large and comfortable air conditioned living room, a maid brought in a tray of coffee, water and Thai sweetmeats and then we chatted in English.

We talked about future plans and my student told me that she intended to go to Switzerland for Christmas and also take in Vienna and Florence. After an hour, it was time to collect my money and go to my next lesson.

I walked around to the next soi to Amy’s house. As I approached the electric gates, I was wondering what to do about her dog. It had done its best to savage me last visit. It was a young male and this was the mating season so its testosterone levels were high. No doubt last visit it had sniffed me out for the alpha male that I was and been filled with jealous rage.

I decided that it was probably afraid of me, as well as envious. I had spoken kindly to him last time and he’d taken this as a sign of weakness and a signal to attack. Well, this time I would ignore him.

I pressed the bell and the electric gates slid open. He was waiting for me on the porch, his fierce red eyes watching me intently. I strode towards front door, coldly ignoring him. He yelped at my direct approach and ran off around the side of the house.

I went into the house and seated myself in the large and comfortable air conditioned living room. A maid came in and brought me a tray of fresh coffee, freshly made mango juice, mineral water and a large fruit tart. Private lessons are so much more agreeable than teaching in a school. Especially when there are 60 or so students to a class.

As I relaxed on the leather sofa, my mobile rang. It was Amy’s mum.

“Mr Ben. Amy’s mum speaking. Are you at my home?”

“Yes, just arrived.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. We have a problem with Amy. The maid could not find her and nobody knew where she was.”

I sat up. “Has she got a mobile phone? Have you rang her school yet?”

“Oh no. I have found her now. She is sleeping in the back of my car. She is very sleepy. I brought her home about an hour ago and I thought that she’d got out but she didn’t because she was asleep and nobody noticed. But the maid took her shoes into the house so now she can not go to the toilet. I am at the supermarket. We will be home in about another twenty minutes. I am so sorry, Mr Ben.”

I relaxed back on the sofa. “No problem at all,” I told her.

Amy’s mum might have sent all her children to Harrow and prefer Europe to home – but her sense of time was definitely Thai. Her ‘twenty’ minutes would be an English forty minutes at least or probably a German hour. I took out pen and paper and wrote my diary.

Saturday


8 December
My alarm awoke me at 7.30am. I felt ok but still not yet 100 per cent. This morning I had to teach at Thong Lor.

I took the subway to Sukhumvit then changed to the skytrain and rode it two stops to Thong Lor. It was an easy hour’s teaching. I returned to my apartment at 11am and then had lunch.

After lunch, Amy’s mum picked me up and then took me to her house. For some reason, her dog took a sudden violent dislike to me and decided to attack me. Fortunately, I was wearing jeans and shoes so was able to ward him off. Nasssty little brute! We doesn’t like it, does we Precioussss? Not nice.

I escaped into the house and, while Amy got changed, Amy’s mum took me upstairs to the third floor.

“I want to show you something,” she smiled and she led me into a darkened room.

I entered warily. I had not quite got over being unexpectedly attacked by the family pet. It was strange because it had met me at least five times before and had always seemed rather shy.

Amy’s mum flicked a few switches and dim lights came on. At the same time, with a smooth whirring sound, a giant screen rolled down from the ceiling at the far end of the room. I realized now that we were in a very elaborate home theatre.

There were stacks upon stacks of expensive looking amplifiers, routers, speakers and all sorts of equipment that I could only guess at. Amy’s mum was turning on this and that and meddling with various remote controls while digital displays flickered out seemingly random numbers and information.

“Let me show you the power of my music room,” said Amy’s mum, who was now searching through a vast selection of dvds. “Do you like Santana?”

“Umm. Yes, I think so.”

Amy’s mum inserted the dvd. There was a brief pause and then music, light and colours flooded the room and drowned out everything. The screen and projector were of extraordinary high quality. To the eyes of a hifi novice, it was indistinguishable from that of the HD flat TV screen downstairs.

After watching Santana for a bit, we headed off to the motor show. We had VIP passes and were able to get in ahead of the considerable queues. There were lots of scantily dressed girls dancing around the cars. Amy’s mum wanted to take a photo of me amongst them. Unfortunately for the readers of this blog, dispite several attempts, she didn’t manage to use my camera phone. However, that didn’t stop 20 or so photographers from various magazines snapping away. I intend to google the motor show after a few days and, no doubt, there will be pictures of me surrounded by beautiful women….

The Bugatti Veyron and Girls in White


7 December
I awoke at 10am, feeling slightly better but still weak. I got up, showered, did my exercises and then was ready for breakfast. My cheap electric toaster gave me a mild shock when I put toast into it. It is obviously time to replace it. I had to drink tea instead of coffee because my cafetiere broke last night.

I ate breakfast and tried to decided whether or not I should teach today. If I cancelled my classes again then I would be 1,500 baht down – and I needed to buy a new cafetiere and electric toaster. More importantly, if I did not teach my student Amy today then I couldn’t really go to the motor show with her mum tomorrow. Last time I had taught Amy, her mum had told me that there would be a special “show” on Saturday and invited me to go with the family.

But if I taught today, perhaps I would get worse. I still had a temperature and a runny nose. Hmmmm. I rang Mary at my teaching agency and told her of my dilemma.

“Teach!” she said hardheartedly. “Take medicine and then teach!”

That was that then. I thought of my friend Doi, who is working today from 8am until midnight at Siam Paragon. For those 16 long hours, standing in a department store, she would probably get paid less than I would for my two hours of sitting in on a comfortable sofa. My lot wasn’t so bad, really.

I took two paracetamols and then went to teach.

Thursday

6 December
Yesterday afternoon I developed a cold. This morning I awoke with a fever. I cancelled my lessons and stayed mostly in my room to recover.

Wednesday

Thai children at the local temple school, Chachoengsao


5 December
Today is the King’s birthday and so a national holiday. Mina phoned and asked me to send her some money so that she could come up to Bangkok to see me. I told her that I needed to save first as I was spending more than I earned, had lots of kiks etc to look after and that I had caught a cold. She told me not to “hit the Bush” – whatever that means. Apparently, it’s an American expression.

I met up with June and Doi today. Doi is from Surin, near Cambodia. They started talking about Black Magic. The Dark Arts are apparently very much alive and well in Thailand. June told me that her elder sister had caught the eye of a Muslim boy when she was a girl. The boy had asked someone to put a spell on her to make her like him. It hadn’t worked – but ever since, June’s sister has been “possessed”.

June described how, as a young girl, when she slept with her sister, there would be a certain point of the night when her sister would cover her head and say that “it was coming”. The overhead fan would slow down and June’s sister would see a “dark shadow” moving across the wall. Naturally, both girls were terrified.

When June’s mother died, as is the custom amongst Buddhists, her body was placed in an open coffin in the living room and monks were invited to the house to chant for the dead. When June’s sister entered the room, she could not bear to be in the presence of monks cried out and ran away. When the family questioned her later, she claimed that she remembered nothing. She “did not know herself”.

Later, when the monks had gone, June’s sister approached the body of her dead mother with the intention of paying her respects for the last time. But when she reached out to touch the body, she gave a loud scream and starting crying. She said that she could not touch it because it was “hot”. June said it was because of the small gold Buddha image that her mother was holding when she died and still clutched in her right hand.

June’s family took the girl to the local temple to exorcise the spirit but were told that a dark spell created by a Muslim could only be removed by the person who cast it. Black Magic as found in Cambodia, on the other hand, could be removed by any decent Buddhist monk.

Now June’s sister lives on Koh Phi Phi and is married with two children. She is not troubled at Phi Phi because “there are lots of Muslims there”.

It was a strange tale, and rather disquieting because there was no happy ending or solution. The two girls told me other strange magic that the Thais did. The worst magic always seems connected to love. June told me that, in order to make sure that her husband will love only her, a Thai woman will collect some blood from her menstruation and put a little into his rice when she cooks it.

Well, all I can say is, if I ever catch MY wife doing anything so disgusting then I’m DEFINITELY going to divorce her!
"True, they hadn’t achieved World Domination – but they’d come damn close to it." From Nowhere Children Inc. by Ben Taylor.

Monday



30 November
Today I taught Nong Amy. Her house is just around the corner from Pi At’s house so I arranged to see her and Pi Nun beforehand. Theirs is a very pleasant housing estate not far from Lad Phrao. It is surrounded by a moat and guarded at all four entrances by smart uniformed security men. The sois are lined with mango trees and bougainvilleas and no beggars or stray dogs are allowed. It would suit me just fine. I noticed one house near Pi At’s was for rent. 100,000 baht per month.

I arrived at Pi At’s house and she brought me fresh strawberry juice made from Chang Mai strawberries. We chatted for a while until her son arrived. He is studying Accounting at university and is very polite but shy. His mother encouraged him to speak English with me but it was a pretty one sided conversation.

After a while, he left to pick up his car from the garage and I showed Pi Nun a program on my laptop which I planned to use to teach her students at the temple school in Chachoengsao.

At a quarter to five, we walked to Amy’s house. Pi At tried to give me money for speaking to her in English, which I refused and then we said goodbye. I taught Amy for a couple of hours and helped her with her homework. Afterwards, her mother invited me to go to Siam Paragon with her and her eldest daughter to buy a guitar for her.

We set off in her SUV. The traffic was terrible – even by Bangkok standards. It was soon obvious that we would not get there before closing time. Amy’s mum decided to go to the Bangkok Motor Show instead.

The Bangkok Motor Show was held at the giant Impact Centre. Amy’s mum had VIP tickets – I guess it must be something to do with her work. We had a great time. The place was full of exotic cars and beautiful girls. For every car on display, there seemed to be two stunning girls on hand to smile for photographs, drape themselves gracefully on the bonnet or simply perform wriggling motions in time to music.

Amy’s mum seemed to know a lot of people there and was obviously an important person for them, judging by all the wais that she and I received. As I was with her, people naturally assumed that I too was a wealthy business person looking to invest. The manager at a Coffee World shop asked if I was interested in buying franchise. I thought of the sorry state of my bank balance, battered after an hedonist two months in Krabi and the South but smilingly told him that I was on holiday from England and was not looking to invest.

Amy’s elder sister was studying marketing and pointed out the various stands on show from a professional point of view. For example, the Alfa Romeo stand for the convertible Spyder with its circular stand surrounded by running water and with two beautiful models was stunning – but photographed badly because there was too much black. It would not look good in a magazine.

The stand for SsangYong featured its off road models on big ramps tilted at 45 degrees and with the wheels turning. There were also six big screens showing a short film with a SsangYong Rexton playing a tough Russell Crowe type while the soundtrack was from Gladiator. They even showed the Rexton driving in slow motion through a field of wheat.

The people from Lamborghini did not need to bother with such clever or sophisticated marketing tricks. All they had to do was to put a black Murcielago and a white convertible Gallardo. And the people came flocking to gawp and take photos. It struck me that Lamborghini’s marketing was the simplest and best. Simply design a totally impractical car that looks like nothing else on the road, drop in a suitably over the top engine behind the driver and people will come running.

There was, however, one car there which nearly stole the show from Lamborghini. The Bugatti Veyron. This car is so fast that, apparently, you could let a McLaren F1 accelerate to 120mph, and then start the Bugatti, and the Veyron would beat the McLaren to 200mph. Capable of 253 miles per hour (though not of course anywhere in Thailand) and priced at 165,000,000 baht… It looked good as well.

Thursday

29 November
Dad came to Bangkok for the day so I met him at the British Club as before. We swam in the cool pool, lunched and then took the skytrain to Siam Paragon – Bangkok’s most prestigious shopping mall.

I took him to see the book stores and then we window shopped exotic cars. We saw a Bentley Flying Spur. The price tag was 25,500,000 baht. I wonder if they would have knocked off the 500,000 baht if we’d offered them cash….

Dad left at 3.30pm. I returned to my apartment and prepared some lessons for tomorrow. Mina phoned to tell me that she didn’t want to see me again because I was jow chew and could I please send her money so that she could catch the train to come and see me? I told her that I had no money and that she should fly her helicopter to come and see me instead. We spent a pleasant half hour arguing over this and then wished each other goodnight.

Bangkok snapshots






Beethoven Fur Elise

“Twenty years ago, things were different!” he told the bedroom doorknob sternly. From Nowhere Children Inc. by Ben Taylor.

28 November
A lazy day. When I went to bed last night, it was hot. When I woke up in the early hours, it was freezing cold. That’s what you get when you live in a city of concrete. As a result, I felt slightly under the weather this morning. My company rang me to say that my class this evening was cancelled.

I met Mario the Italian at Pi Baby’s café.

“I am as sick as a dog!” he complained. “This weather is making me have a fever and I can not sleep. I don’t want to think about what nightmares I might have! I have taken two paracetamols but still I am aching all over my body. It is not good. Two paracetamols are ok - it's aspirin you have to be careful with. If you take aspirin with coffee then it becomes a very powerful drug - the same as the banned sports drugs. I remember when I was playing football once, I forgot that I'd taken one aspirin because I was not feeling well. At the break, I went with everyone else and had a cup of coffee. Well, when I went back on the field...whoosh! I didn't know what I was doing! I have never run like that before!"


He sipped his chicken soup for a while in silence, apparently deep in thought and then looked up.

“The electricity wiring in Thailand is terrible!” he pointed at the rickety fuse box above my head. “It’s crazy. I worked as electrician in England before. The English are so practical – not like in my country…”

Wednesday

“Do you appreciate that you are an outstanding and total success at being you, right where you are now?” Rhonda Byrne, author of The Secret.

27 November
I spent the weekend in Chachoengsao with my parents and grandmother. The weather was very cold at night – relatively speaking, of course. Lots of my cousins have gone down with heavy colds. Thais are very susceptible to changes in the weather. They like air conditioning so much that they don’t turn it off when it’s not needed. Instead, they prefer to huddle in blankets – in the rather odd belief that it makes their skin white!

Why they think that air conditioning will make their skin whiter is a mystery. I suppose they think that the cold temperatures in “farang” countries make the farangs white – rather than the lack of sun.

This obsession with white skin is difficult for a westerner to really understand and is very unfortunate for the Thais. I see so many people who have ruined their beautiful golden skin by plastering on powder and “whitening” lotions, creams etc. which probably contain all sorts of dangerous chemicals. The result is an unhealthy sallow colour which looks even worse when accompanied by the brownish orange hair dye which so many Thais liked to ruin their hair with.

Today I met up with June and Dook at Pratunam. It is an amazing place…so many clothes, shoes, suitcases etc at very cheap prices. June wanted to go to Starbucks.

“I want an ice Mocha with lots of Whipping Cream,” she announced.

In England, we usually have mocha coffee with whipped cream. But this is Thailand. People tend to be more active here.

Saturday

23 November
Today I had lunch with Dad at the British Club in Silom. It was lovely and quiet. We swam before we ate and the water was actually quite cold! The cool season has finally arrived. It feels like a warm summer’s day back in England.

After lunch, it was time to return to my apartment and start preparing to teach my new young student Amy. For some reason, I always seem to be late when working for this company. This time I was determined not to be. I set off 90 minutes early.

I had studied my (Nelles) map of Bangkok beforehand and decided to do the first main stint of the journey by bus and then take a taxi for the final short hop. I decided to take a different route from that recommended by my company – a dangerous game to play because if I was late, I would be in trouble.

I stood in the heat and fumes of the bus stop and waited. After a while, number 137 bus came along and I boarded. I then had to wait 15 minutes while it stood stationary in the heavy traffic. At last it moved off and then, one stop down the road, turned into a high rise car park and stopped. The driver switched the engine off and everyone got out. Great.

The clock was ticking (a metaphor of course as my phone clock doesn’t tick). Nearly 30 minutes and 7 baht had been wasted on that bus. Luckily, I was close to an MRT metro station. I descended into the cool underground and rode the metro for one stop then came out again and caught another number 137 bus. This time it ran straight and true and I arrived at my destination with 15 minutes to spare.

My lesson went very well. After I had been shown into a large sitting room dominated by a 60 inch HD flat screen TV, Amy’s mother rang me to say that she was very sorry but they were running 25 minutes late. I didn’t mind in the least as I was paid for my time there rather than the time I spent actually teaching. I switched on my laptop and checked my emails while the maid brought me fresh apple juice, a big plate of exotic fruit and a glass of water.

Amy arrived with her mum. Amy turned out to be a bright kid with a pretty much photographic memory. She was a pleasure to teach. After the lesson, her mum chatted to me about the difficulties of sending her three children to a good school.

At Harrow School in Thailand, there are very few English children attending as only the very rich Thais can afford the tuition fees. So the rich Thai kids don’t get to practice their English outside the classrooms. There are cheaper and better schools with lots of English kids – but there is a big waiting list. Amy’s mum wanted to send her children to Harrow in England – but again the waiting list is decades long. Also, it would mean that she would be parted from her children.

I asked her what she did for a living and she told me that she and her husband owned a company which imported exotic European cars such as Ferrari, Aston Martin, Bentley, Porsche etc. to order. She told me that it was crazy that anyone bought such cars in Thailand as there were no roads worth driving fast on and they had to pay 200 per cent import duty tax as well. As a result, Thai millionaires had to keep in the garage a car that they’d paid two or three times the going rate for. A Mercedes SL500, for example, costs 15 million baht….

After we had talked for a while, she drove me home. I went to eat at Pi Baby’s. I was staving. The café was empty except for Pi Baby herself and a cat which was prowling hungrily about under the tiny tables.

Suddenly, there was a flash of movement and a giant centipede came racing out from the wall and straight towards me with the cat in hot pursuit. It was a horribly repulsive creature, the sort of colour that makes you feel sick just to look at. It was about a foot long and armed with big fangs.

Hastily, I lifted up my legs out of harms way as the cat pounced under my table and tried to kill it. But this was no ordinary centipede. It was more snakelike than insect. It wriggled and tried to bite with its poison fangs, it jumped and rolled and ran while all about it, the cat was a raging fury of teeth and claws, of lightning fast strikes, pounces, swipes and bites. But still it did not die.

At last, the cat managed to pick it up behind its head. It was evident that the cat wanted to eat it. It did not in any way play with it as an English cat might play with a mouse. But just then, Pi Baby hearing the commotion came out from the kitchen with a pair of big tongs. She grabbed the frantically wriggling centipede from the cat’s jaws and threw it out into the gutter where upon it promptly made its escape down a drain. The cat let out a loud and reproachful yowl. It obviously didn’t appreciate its dinner being snatched away from him.

“I feel sorry for the centipede,” said Pi Baby, as she returned to the kitchen. “The cat mustn’t eat it. He can eat fish instead."

Thursday


21 November
I lunched at Pi Baby’s Café and met Mario the Italian. He was dressed in shorts, tee shirt and trainers and was beaming.

“I just come back from my school,” he said. “Today is sports day so I only teach for 45 minutes but I get paid for whole day! You see, you should teach full time instead of part time – it is much better!”

He sat down, ordered kai dow puk puk (fried egg over vegetables) and continued. “Last month there was a virus going around the school. We have to close the school for two weeks. All the part timers did not get paid – but I did! The full time teachers got paid for doing nothing…

“Aargh! Ice!” he exclaimed suddenly as he looked at his glass of water. “I cannot have ice. I am very sensitive. I will have bad tummy if I have ice…”

Carefully, he emptied the ice out onto the street and poured in fresh water.

“I don’t know why, but last three days my stomach have problem…”

A young fashionably dressed Japanese man came into the shop. His face looked vaguely familiar. He glanced at me then took of his mp3 earplugs, smiled and held out his hand.

“Hey, how are you? Haven’t seen you for a while.”

I recognized him as Taki, a former gigolo from Tokyo who was on a permanent holiday from Japan. I had seen him at Pi Baby’s shop when I had worked in Bangkok last year but had never really spoken to him.

I shook his hand. “I’m fine. Just got back, actually. What have you been up to?”

Taki sat down. “Oh, not much. Just been partying a lot cos one of my friends from Japan is over and he likes to go to the disco a lot. It’s getting a bit much now though. I’ve been going out partying and drinking every single night for a month and never got to bed before 8am. I’m just exhausted.”

“I not like party every night!” called Mario eagerly from his table. “It’s no fun. Always you get tired and more tired and everyone is fresh but I am tired and no have energy. I go party once a month and then I am very fresh and it is great!”

“Well, my friend went to Chang Mai this morning – I am gonna sleep!” laughed Taki.

I looked at him. I thought his face looked remarkably fresh. He didn’t look like he’d been partying non stop for a month.

“How old are you?” I asked, guessing that he must be about 25.

“Thirty,” he said. “I’m starting work next month. I’ve been on holiday in Thailand for three years and now I’m totally broke!”

“What sort of work are you going to do?” I asked.

“Same as before. Gigolo. Down in Sukhumvit soi 22. There’s a new place just opened up. There’s not that many establishments in Thailand that caters for women but we’re trying to change that. In Japan it’s very big – especially in the last five years. Here in Bangkok, it’s mostly places for men.”

“What kind of clientele do you have?” I asked. “What kind of people are they?”

“Rich Thai women. You get a few Japanese but they’re mostly Thais. Usually the wives of powerful business men or mafia leaders. Thais are crazy about Japanese.”

“Isn’t it dangerous to go with wives of Mafia leaders?”

“No, well yes. Sometimes. When I was working in Tokyo, I got involved with the wife of the top Mafia boss but I was really lucky because he was caught and put in jail for a long time! Usually though, they don’t care if they don’t see it because they themselves have lots of other women and it keeps their wives quiet, I guess.

I found myself wondering if Taki’s three year long holiday was not just pleasure orientated. Perhaps he was keeping out of the way of angry and dangerous husbands for a while!

“So what exactly do you do in your work?” I asked curiously. “Do you have sex with your clients or just be an escort?”

“It depends,” said Taki as he sipped his Pepsi. “It’s up to you and the customer. Usually, you just have a drink with them first. You try and get them to spend because whatever they spend is split 40/60 between you and the establishment. There are lots of techniques to get them to spend. If you just have a drink with them, maybe go to a disco with them or whatever, then they’ll ask if they can have sex with you and offer you money. If you have sex with them too soon then they might lose interest and go elsewhere. But if you don’t have sex with them then they might get bored and go elsewhere as well! You have to know to judge the time.”

“How many days a week do you work?” I asked.

“30 days a month. We finish work late too. Maybe 5 in the morning because most people don’t come to us until after the discos shut at 1am, right? So that means we have to pay the police so that we can stay open late because you’re not allowed to open after 1am. So it’s expensive. Our place is under a hotel and they help protect us because our customers will use their hotel. If we weren’t under a hotel then it wouldn’t be possible - the bribe money would be too much.

“You can earn lots of money, though. If you work hard, then in one year you can buy a new Mercedes. In Japan the money is much better. I remember the first time, this woman came for me. Her husband was Director of the waterworks in Tokyo. Anyway, we went to a hotel and had sex. I was 25 and she was 50 and I was just thinking, you know, Taki you can’t do this! It’s just too much, having sex with old women. But the next morning at breakfast, I told her that I was very poor, that someone had stolen my motorbike etc and she just gave me, you know how much? The equivalent of 8,000 US dollars!

“It’s one of the techniques, you know. You have to say that I am very poor boy etc. etc. It’s the same as what the Thai girls use. That’s why, when the Thai girls try to get money from me, it doesn’t work. Because I know the tricks – I am a professional too, you see!”

Zakai


Tuesday

20 November
Today was a good day. I went to eat lunch at Pi Baby’s café opposite my apartment and met a young lawyer who asked if I could teach him English. It turned out that he lives in the same apartment as me – he is one floor above me. He is only 22 and has just started working in Silom.

We agreed a price of 350 baht per hour as it was so convenient. He booked 30 lessons and offered to pay for them in full upfront. If only all my students were like this! He also told me that his company wanted an English teacher to come in twice a week and check their letters and emails. I told him I would do it for 600 baht per hour.

I met up with my friend June in the evening. We went to Siam Paragon to buy a map of Bangkok. It’s amazing how useless most of the maps of Greater Bangkok are. They are almost all invariably confusing and never show the sois where your students live! The best map by far is made by Nelles.

We had coffee and muffins at Au bon pair at Siam Discovery Centre, took a table by the window and people watched.

“I never can understand why tourists go for tuk tuks,” I said as we watched a gesticulating tuk tuk driver trying to lure a bemused looking young couple into his motorized buggy. “They’re dangerous, dirty, you breathe in all the fumes, no air con and the drivers always try to cheat the farangs.”

I spoke from bitter experience.

“You’re much better off taking a metered taxi,” I added. “It’s more comfortable, you’ve got air con and you pay the same price as everyone else.”

“I prefer the bus if there is no skytrain or MRT,” said June. “Taxi drivers sometime deliberately go a longer route so that the meter runs up. When my mother was dying in Ramathibodi Hospital, I used to go there by taxi everyday from Nonthaburi. It used to cost 260 baht to 280 baht depending on the traffic. But never more than 280 baht.

“One day, I went and the driver went this way and that way, down this soi and whatever. When we arrived at the hospital, the meter read 300 baht. I gave the driver 260 baht and told him that if he wanted the extra 40 baht then he could go to the police!”

I laughed. “What did he do?” I asked.

“His face was very red. I don’t like people cheating me! I guess I’m jai rawn sometime,” she added.

Monday

Zakia's picture


19 November
Today I woke up late and then went to a meeting with my teaching agency. They have a new student for me. Her name is Amy. She is 8 years old and goes to Harrow International School. It costs her parents 1,000,000 baht (14,757 pounds) per year to send her there. Apparently, the school is not very good – unlike its famous English relation.

Amy has two older brothers, both of whom are also at Harrow. Presumably, her parents are either very rich or have taken a very big loan to pay for all this. Just think, they could have sent their children to the local temple school and then, with the money they’d saved, gone to England and bought a Porsche instead….

18 October
Today I am back in Bangkok. I went to MBK to buy some shirts for work. I met up with my cousin Gook and we browsed the shops together. The shops were very farang friendly with lots of signs up in English. One notice proclaimed:
No Refund
No Return
No Change
No Discount


I wanted to photograph the sign to put in on my blog but when I took my camera out, I was told “No photo!”












We ate dinner at Fifth Avenue in MBK. This is an excellent place to eat. The brochure advertises it a place to “Savour the Craving Satisfaction” but in reality, it’s a souped up food court cum International restaurant. There are uniformed waiter types and a man playing classical guitar. There’s a huge variety of food from all over the world to choose from. Each stall has sample dishes on display, you chose and then they cooked it up for you then and there.

While we ate, Gook told me about Kik in Chachoengsao. The reason why Kik tries so hard to look like a farang (dyed blonde hair, fake nose, whitening powder, green contacts etc.) is because she wants to attract Thai men – not farang men. Apparently, Thais like the farang look, so Thai girls must look like farangs in order to attract them. If a Thai girl wants a farang boyfriend, then she must have dark skin, small cute nose, slim figure etc.

It is, I reflected, a strange world that we live in….

Sunday



15 November
I woke up this morning at my grandmother’s house near Chachoengsao – a medium sized, rapidly expanding town about 80 kilometres from Bangkok. Chachoengsao is a busy, noisy, dirty place and, perhaps for this reason, all the heavy industry from Bangkok is being gradually relocated there.

Fortunately, my grandmother’s place is still very much in the country. Her house is a peaceful, old-fashioned style wooden house on stilts by the Bang Pa Kong river. The garden is full of orchids, bougainvilleas, ladies’ finger nails. The air is clean and only the incessant sound of the television set disturbs the peaceful tranquility.

After breakfast, I went into town with my parents and met my friend Kik at Big C. I had not seen her for a while and was immediately struck by her appearance.

“What have you done to yourself?” I asked.

“No do anything! I more beautiful! You crazy!” she added. “And you fatter than before!”

I stared at her, trying to work it out. Was she taller? No, she was simply wearing high heels as usual. Was her face paler? No, that was the whitening cream. Her fake nose? But she’d got that done last time. Sure, her hair colour had changed but she dyed it a different colour every week. Then I got it.

“Your eyes!” I said. “You’re wearing green contacts, aren’t you!”

She nodded proudly. “Beautiful huh?”

“I didn’t realize that you needed glasses. Are you short sighted or long sighted?”

“My eyes very good. I wear contacts this colour so that I look farang…”

I went to have coffee while I waited for my parents to finish their shopping. I picked up an Off Road magazine and idly turned the pages. The prices of prestige cars in Thailand are staggeringly expensive. Especially when you consider how poor most people are.

A Porsche Cayenne turbo costs 16,750,000 baht. That’s over a quarter of a million pounds or half a million dollars, whatever way you like to look at it. A humble Volvo XC90 costs more than a Range Rover in Britain. A Range Rover in Thailand is the same price as a Bentley in the UK. In contrast, a plumber or electrician is lucky if he gets 7,000 baht per month. And yet, the Bangkok traffic jams are full of Range Rovers, Porsche Cayennes, Volvos etc.

Unlike its near neighbours, Thailand was never Communist.

Zakia's pictures...











Saturday



14 November
My fears when I first started this diary proved to be unfounded. I met my family again and they showed no sign of any horrible disease. I spent a pleasant time in Bangkok.

I rented an apartment at VIP Place in Huay Kwang. It costs 5,000 baht a month, is close to the MRT, has hot water, bathtub, air con etc. It even has a sofa!! I have taken it for three months so that I will have time to work and hopefully save some money to go traveling again.

Today I received an email from Zakia, the girl from Montpellier who I met on the place.

Hello Ben, How are you? I was nice to meet you!!!!!I've got a good trip to Paris and after to Montpellier.Tomorrow I will send you the pictures.Take care dear Ben and enjoy your trip!!!! Bye Zakia

She attached lots of photos which I plan to use on this blog. She is a much better photographer than me!

Sunday


10 November
My time is up. I must leave the clean air and tranquility of Krabi and return to Bangkok to start earning money. There is a silver cloud in this dark polluted sky though, I will be meeting my father after nearly two months and we can compare notes.

Nothing has changed and everything has changed. Nothing ever changes, just our perception changes. It comes down to the same thing though.

I had a pleasant flight. I sat next to a Moroccan girl called Zakia whose uncle runs a resort in Ao Nang. She told me how wonderful Krabi was and invited me to come and stay at her place in Montpellier.

Now I am back at White Lodge guesthouse.

Saturday

9 November
Today is my last full day here. Mournfully, I packed my suitcase and checked out of my apartment. We drove into town and checked into Grand Tower for one night. Tomorrow morning, I need to leave at 8.30 for the airport.

Mina and I went for a wander in the town and discovered a really good café with amazing home made bread and fresh coffee. It is called May and Mark, after the couple who own it and is near the Thai Hotel.

In the afternoon, we went to Ao Nang and met up with Mina’s friend Sara. We went for a coffee and she brought Mina up to date with her life and told me all about herself.

Sara and her husband are both TEFL teachers from the north of England. Sara has two babies and it sounds pretty tough for a westerner to bring up children on a low income in Thailand. She cannot send her children to the local school because they would not receive an English education. International schools are expensive and there is no help from the state. If she were back in England then she would have all sorts of income support, grants etc. However, she seemed to think that the lifestyle here was better than at home.

She told me that her house was near the forest and that snakes were sometimes a problem. Once her daughter heard a loud hissing coming from the bathroom. Sara went to investigate and found a large cobra rearing out of the toilet bowl. It had found its way through the plumbing from the klong outside the house, apparently.

What amazed me was the way in which she “dealt” with it. After a while, she said, the snake “went” away but would sometimes reappear.

So rather than calling in the experts from the local snake farm or zoo, she was happy to sometimes share a bathroom with a deadly snake! Still, I guess nobody spent longer than was strictly necessary on the toilet – so queuing time for the bathroom must have shortened considerably.

I personally have a bad reputation at home for spending “hours” on the toilet of a morning. My mother would always shout through the door.

“Ben! If it won’t come out then don’t just sit there, dear! Get on!”

I should imagine that having a cobra swaying under your exposed bottom would “make it come out” pretty quick!


After we’d had coffee, Sara went off to a job interview and Mina went to see another friend and I went for a swim. The sun was setting and the beach was lovely. I went for a run and then cooled off in the not so cool sea.

It was nearly dark by the time I had dried myself and changed back into dry clothes. We ate at an Indian restaurant opposite the Irish Pub. Half the menu was vegetarian and all the staff were Indian. It was my first at a proper Indian restaurant and the food was really delicious. We ate and ate.

Afterwards we went for a stroll along the seafront to help digest our enormous meal. At night in the high season, the place was bustling with wholesome looking Scandinavians browsing the many stalls selling food, drink, clothes and pretty much everything.

I saw a maimed beggar sitting on the ground with the stump of his amputated leg stretched out beside his begging bowl. He seemed oddly out of place in this clean, up market resort. I noticed that his face was unusually bright for a beggar with large intelligent eyes. Mina laughed when she saw him.

“Look at that beggar! He is very rich, you know. He was here last time.”

A middle aged western woman stopped when she saw him, her eyes filled with concern when she saw his leg. She stooped down to put a 100 baht note into his bowl and say a few kind words to him. He replied in good English. Mina snorted.

“See, he speaks English! A beggar who has enough money to learn English. But he is very rich. Everyone knows him here. He has land worth 20 million baht. He was born with a silver spoon…”

We had coffee at a little Swedish Café and then headed home on the motorbike. After we’d left the lights of Ao Nang behind, the road through the mountains was very dark. Fog was creeping down from the forested peaks and the air was very cold.

“Drive fast!” said Mina as she hugged me from behind to keep off the chill. “Bandits may try to rob us on the mountain roads where there is no-one. They don’t just usually rob – they will rape the girl as well and maybe shoot the man. Drive fast and stick to the centre of the road.”

I drove fast.

Friday



8 November
This morning Mina wanted to go to Ao Nang again so I decided to visit Huay Toh waterfall instead. According to my tourist map, Huay Toh waterfall was in Panombenja National Park and only 12 kilometers from Krabi Town. It should only be a 20 minute bike ride. We would be back in time for lunch, I thought. And then we could go to swim at Ao Nang. How wrong I was!

We had breakfast and then set off. The weather was perfect, cool and dry. I pulled in at a petrol station and put 50 baht worth into the motorbike. We headed out of town. After a while, I saw a wooden signpost proclaiming Khao Phanombencha National Park 12 Km.

I nodded happily to myself. Everything was going to plan.

We drove on. As we left the town behind, the landscape grew more and more dramatic. The mountains grew taller so that their peaks were shrouded in mist, the jungle more lush and vibrant. Flowers and orchids grew wild by the roadside. We saw very little other traffic and the roads were excellent.

We drove on. It seemed a long 12 kilometers. Now there were rubber plantations on either side. Every now and then, I saw sheets of rubber hung up to dry. The mountains were in front and also to our right. I spotted another wooden signpost coming up. I slowed down to read it.

Khao Phanombencha National Park 12 Km.

Strange, I thought. We’d been driving for at least 30 minutes and yet, according to the Krabi Tourist Board, had gone nowhere. I drove a little faster….

After another 30 minutes or so, another wooden signpost loomed up by the roadside. I squinted at it eagerly. We must be nearly there now.

Khao Phanombencha National Park 12 Km.

I stopped the motorbike and took a swig from my water bottle. Was it me or was it them? I asked Mina. Them of course.

“The tourist board want to get people to visit the National Park so they pretend that it’s closer than it actually is,” she explained.

There was nothing to it but keep driving. I found myself wondering how many unsuspecting tourists had run out of petrol trying to get there….

The road became narrower and there were no markings. Soon it dwindled into a dirt track. In the distance, I saw a familiar looking wooden signpost.

Khao Phanombencha National Park 3 Km.

“Hooray!” I shouted and drained the last of the water from my bottle. “We’re here at last!”

We drove on. After 20 minutes, another wooden signpost….

Khao Phanombencha National Park 5 Km.

“Huh?” I said. “Now not only are we not going anywhere….now we’re actually going backwards!”

But there was no point in returning the way we’d come because the signs still pointed forwards. We must drive – or face the same terrible fate that befell the early pioneers in Death Valley…








After driving for an hour, I discovered that I'd got nowhere...



















We drove on. After another 20 minutes we came to a signpost, bigger than before. I stared at it, not quite believing.
Khao Phanombencha National Park.

We had arrived! We paid our entrance fee, parked up and then explored. It had an English country park feel to it with well kept lawns and labeled mature shrubs and trees. There were graveled walkways through beautiful woods, little wooden bridges over streams. Mosquitoes were strangely absent. We could almost have been strolling through Mount Edgcumbe Country Park in Cornwall.

But if one looked closely, the foliage was more lush and exotic. There were giant ferns growing amongst the trees. And the butterflies were definitely much bigger than any found in England. They were bigger than many of the tiny birds. They glided rather than flew.

The path climbed upwards. The stream running to our right grew bigger and faster until it was a small river. Finally we came to an amazing waterfall.

Thursday





7 November
Mina spent the night scratching her body rash so, of course, this morning it was worse than before. I offered to take her to the hospital but she refused.

We breakfasted at Good Dream Café. They have free wifi there so I was able to check my email and update my blogsite. Usually I use my mobile to connect my laptop to the internet. GPRS coverage in Thailand is very good and in most towns they have EDGE so connection speeds are pretty acceptable. It costs 1 baht a minute with DTAC network.

We spent a fairy ordinary day with nothing of note to put down here. We had dinner at Sriboya Guest House. After we had finished eating, Mina spoke for an hour or so how she was bored with me, that I was no good, that I always believed everything that my friends said but never believed her, that I was jowchew etc. Finally she ended up by saying that she was going to work on Samui and never wanted to see me again.

I was glad for this outburst. We had not argued for nearly two days and it was clearly getting on her nerves. I welcomed the return to normality again.

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