It’s always a good time to not be in the UK, but the period around the World Cup is an especially excellent time not to be there.

I have already (thankfully) missed the months of build-up where endless pundits bleat on about how this time it will be different, really in with a chance, this might be the one etc. etc. ad nauseam. Then the competition starts and something woeful happens, like failing to beat a nation who doesn’t even play football to any extent; and the moaning and recriminations start; and continue until the England team are eliminated and slope off home in disgrace.

I don’t watch television and I don’t read a newspaper; so by being selective with my on-line reading I can pretty much avoid the whole nonsense; although occasionally I am reminded that something is going on.

The objective of our road trip was to attend the ghost festival in Dan Sai; about which, more later. Dan Sai is a zillion kilometres away in the north of Thailand, so we decided we should make the trip over two days. She who must be obeyed was in charge of navigation and accommodation arrangements. I feared that her lack of skills in the former would lead to an inability to find the latter; but I let her get one with it and she decreed that we would be staying in Ayutthaya overnight.

The cats were not enthusiastic about our departure , and endeavoured to keep us at home by using the “sitting next to the luggage and looking mournful” strategy, which almost worked.

Off on a road trip for a few days. Had planned to take the iPad and use it to process photos and update this site; but she who must be obeyed has informed me that we are travelling like backpackers, although I bet that does not extend to her cosmetics collection.

So, will be maintaining radio silence till early next week. Toodle pip!

Comments 🔗

2010-06-10 | genuinej says

Very bad timing, methinks. Stanley’s already away, Mobi seems to have gone AWOL, or is pissed up somewhere, and now you! What are we to do??? Have a good trip.

Leaving breakfast this morning and she who must be obeyed is suddenly down on her knees and wielding her camera. The result is most pleasing, a shot I wish I had taken.

There are many situations that men find hard to deal with. Clothes shopping, peeing at a public urinal when there is only one vacant stall, marriage. But the most difficult of all is a weeping woman.

A crying female indicates that there are emotions involved, and we men are not so good when it comes to dealing with emotions; at least I’m not. I prefer to operate in an emotion-free zone. I am, after all, British.

Hi, I’m home!

How was the trip to Bangkok?

Great, I went to Panthip Plaza and got an SSD.

What?!! How can you? Who did you see to get that? Don’t give me that nonsense about catching it off a toilet seat!

?????

Have you been to the doctor? Is there a rash? Can I catch it?

????

I can’t believe my husband has caught an STD.

Oh. Not STD, SSD! A solid-state drive. Oh. OK.

Buggered if I know.

The last post on the subject, received comments to the effect that negotiations were in progress with Pan-China Construction Group. I understand that, following negotiations, a contract was signed at the end of March and that the first payment from the construction company was due to be paid on the 29th April. Once this was received, Siam Best Enterprises would announce the revival of the project.

When it comes to meaningless achievements, the powers that rule Pattaya are on the ball (sadly they are not so hot on things like roads and water supply). Fresh from several kilometres of washed plates, we now have the longest shopping street. Not clear whether this the longest shopping street in Pattaya or the longest shopping street in the universe; but either way it has been a pain in the arse all weekend.

The idea, which was admirable, was to provide an outlet for the small traders in Bangkok who had been impacted by the riots. Sadly, the targeted traders appear to have been those who specialised in the peddling of junk. Three kilometres of stalls selling snacks, flimsy shoes and endless rubbish clothing. The fall-out from this event was hours of snarled up traffic, and bewildered prostitutes who found their usual hunting ground taken over by shops. They could still be seen trying to make a pitch: “you don’t want that T-shirt, how about a shag instead?”.

Rather valiantly (I thought), I offered to take she who must be obeyed to the “shop on the beach spectacular”. Of course she agreed and we spent a couple of hours fighting our way through the crowds. It is a measure of the crap on offer that even my shopping-obsessed wife found nothing that took her fancy. She was so disappointed that she had to cheer herself up with a trip to Theppasit market in the evening where the rubbish was more to her liking.

Sorry about your problems Bangkok traders; but please keep your crap to yourself.

When I lived in Kuala Lumpur, my favourite eating experience was to head down to the Indian area of Brickfields and indulge myself with several pieces of roti bread which were then dipped in a fish curry sauce. Delicious, and best washed down with a glass of teh tarik; tea and condensed milk which is made extra foamy by being poured between two jugs, several times and at an increasing distance.

Today we found a stall selling teh tarik; although here they call it cha chuck, which sounds like a more appropriate name to an English speaker.

“You bastard, how could you do this to me?”