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.

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!”

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!

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."

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.

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.

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.”

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.

Thai Prime Minister at Bangkok Motor show

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.

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.

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.

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.