Two years ago, I reported on the sad state that was Thappraya road. At that time, they had already spent a couple of years dicking around with a road widening project and had got as far as reducing the edge of the road to rubble.

And here is the road today:

I love living in a warm climate. It may get a little sweaty at times, and aircon in the car is a necessity; but there is nothing better than waking up to a sunny sky and feeling the warmth on your skin.

But this is too much.

April is always the hottest month, but this year it is particularly sweltering. On the beach yesterday, in the shade and with a cooling wind, it was 36 of those Celsius degrees. Today I had the dubious pleasure of standing in the sun at Bira taking bike photos; and it was 38. That is too much for a man of my delicate disposition and I was glad when the shooting bit was over and I could retire to my air-conditioned computer room and work through the photos.

The new Kawasaki has now grown fairings and looks more the part:

I am of the old school when it comes to child discipline. By all means start off with reasoning, then move onto threats, and then, if the threats are ignored, a quick slap to the leg works wonders. Of course, to make a lasting impression and induce life-changing behaviour, a good thrashing round the head with a baseball bat will be required; but I understand that is now illegal in certain countries.

I spend too much of my day consuming media. I will happily spend a morning just noodling around on the web. Meantime, a torrent of torrents are downloading movies and TV programs for my future delectation. Five floors up, Nik is doing the same, and regularly offers me gigabytes of stuff to add to my collection. His latest offering is a series of programs by an American photographer who goes to exotic places and takes fantastic photos; and make you want to do the same. Tomorrow I fly to Peru and will come back via Antarctica.

And now there is even more choice. Finally sorted out a decent VPN service which not only gives me full access to all the BBC programs which they so thoughtfully make available on the web, but I can also be in the USA and watch loads of American TV programs via Hulu. Wonderful, and it all seems to stream with only the occasional hiccup; even when she who must be obeyed is running her various farms and fish tanks on Facebook. I have calculated that, allowing nine hours for eating, sleeping and doing things in the toilet, I could happily spend every waking moment watching something in the UK, or the USA, or downloaded. This is a bit worrying because it would leave no time for what some people would consider to a key component of a civilised life; playing computer games.

Still, it has been great this weekend. Watched the Formula One qualifying live on the BBC’s website and was all set to do the same today for the race. Then I drove past NanoTrax today and saw this:

Just have to share this little gem:

Surreal brilliance. After I had watched it several times and stopped giggling, I wondered how the hell they made it. You can find out here, but it is a little long winded. In summary:

The bathroom is lifted off the set by a crane, leaving the actor standing on a partial mock-up of a boat. The shirt is dropped from wire above the actor (this failed a few times). As he leans down to pick up the shell he actually sits down on a device which moves him sideways and puts him on the horse. The only CGI is the shell turning to diamonds and the rising Old Spice container; the rest if filmed in real time. A mere 87 takes over three days to get it right.

Pattaya Days receives visitors from all over the world; people of different nationalities, races and beliefs. We like to think that we are respectful of our international audience, and are keenly aware that today is an important day in the Christian calendar. Yes, it is Good Friday; marking the day that Jesus (aka the purportedly magic Jew) did something. Can’t quite recall what he is meant to have done on this day; but I do know that chocolate, rabbits and eggs were somehow involved.

So, Happy Easter to all who celebrate same; and can someone please send me some of those small Cadbury’s chocolate eggs? I would willingly be crucified for a supply.

So we are sitting at our computers, as is often the case of an evening, and she who must be obeyed turns to me and says, with a solemn voice: “I have to tell you something”.

This does not bode well. We have had conversations that start this way before, and they are never easy. So I stop watching my crucial video and pay attention.

I mortgaged my car today. I need to pay for the repairs to my parents’ kitchen. *You’ve mortgaged your car? * Yes. Without discussing with me first? Yes.

Imogen Heap is classically trained on piano, cello and clarinet; and self-trained on guitar, drums, frying pans, bonfires and anything else that she can add into the mix to make her music. Her last album was created in the basement studio of her parents house, and her regular progress reports on YouTube frequently included the inclusion of unusual instruments from around the world and an assortment of household objects.

The end result of her time-consuming sound crafting process is complex and beautiful music, best appreciated through earphones where the details can be relished. But how could she reproduce this live? The easiest and safest approach would be to use pre-recorded tracks, which would be a little boring. But, encouragingly, the stage was covered in a variety of instruments, sheets of metal and other stuff that looked like it might make a pleasant noise if approached appropriately. Then Imogen walked on stage rubbing the top of wine glass, making the noise that rubbed wine glasses make, and we knew we were in for something special.

So there I was on Saturday evening, congratulating myself on booking flights and seats for the Imogen Heap concert in Singapore. For some reason my mind went through an early “tickets, money, passport” check; and got stuck on passport. What was wrong? I certainly had a passport, and I had recently renewed my retirement visa and…oh dear.

When you obtain a retirement visa to stay in Thailand, you can remain in the country for a year. But if you want to venture out of the country during that year, you need a re-entry permit; something that is obtained after you have the main visa; and something I had yet to queue up for. As things stood, I could fly to Singapore, but when I came back without a re-entry permit, I would be given a tourist visa and have to start the retirement thing all over again. This would involve flying out to a Thai embassy in another country within 30 days and then coming back in and plodding through the retirement visa paperwork all over again. Just too much money, time and hassle. I had to get a re-entry permit before my flight at 1120 on Monday morning or else I would not be going; but it was late on Saturday and immigration closes on Sundays. It looked like Ms. Heap’s concert was not to be; and I had just dropped a pile of cash on air and concert tickets for nothing. Oh dear indeed.

As well as being an excellent musician, Imogen Heap has mastered the web as a tool to promote her music. The development of her last album, recorded in the basement studio of her family house, was shared on YouTube such that, after 40+ “broadcasts”, you felt you knew Ms. Heap very well; and of course were all set to acquire her album. It’s nearly a year since my son alerted me to her voice, and she has been a regular companion in my truck since then. Would love to see her live one day.