Gulliver in the Land of Lilliput

November 2nd

Have joyous reunion with Mad Lucy and her darling husband who loathes his Scottish name so much I will merely refer to him as H for Hubbie. The nickname "mad" was given to Lucy many years ago in our wilder youth to distinguish her from other Lucys of my friends' acquaintance (them: which Lucy? Me: oh you know the one I went to that all nighter with and then we …. Them: ohhhhh Maaaaad Lucy) and on the basis that she is now married headmistress of school and raising gorgeous child think time has come to acknowledge that she has life totally together and drop "mad". Consider new nickname "sensible Lucy" but fear she will kill me for making her old before her time and settle on, surprisingly obviously, Lucy.

Have forgotten strange Thai tendency to put sugar in everything western (coffee served with condensed milk for example) except orange juice to which they add sugar and salt. Not huge problem as both HTB and I love Thai food, but makes breakfast tricky as orange juice, coffee and jam served by villas all sugar laden in extreme.

Have also forgotten how tiny everyone is and have problems shaking mental image of Thais fleeing up beach before me as I rise from water like Godzilla.

Island of Koh Samet as beautiful as remembered and we settle into rhythm of swimming, lounging on the beach, snorkeling and drinking Singha beer.


November 4th

Our first weekend there is the Thai Festival of Loy Krathong. Which literally means to float Krathong which are baskets made from palm leaves nailed in patterns to a little platform and filled with flowers, incense and candles and a little money and floated on the water as thanks to the water gods. Having attended the ceremony at Lucy's school she teaches me how to make one on the island and am quite proud of my first lopsided efforts.

Before floating them we light big paper lanterns that float into the sky on the heat from the light inside like luminous hot air balloons, and make wishes. HTB and I wish for the baby that Lucy and H have been trying for to arrive soon, a new job for HTB and a writing job for me.

We float our krathongs under the full moon and Lucy's floats to the horizon before disappearing and I sadly learn the necessity for an even number of decorations on either side as mine floats for a few minutes but tips over at the first wave.


November 10th

Decide while in Thailand to have tiger tattoo which I have been out of love with for some years covered with traditional Thai style lion, as lion was my first choice all those years ago, but couldn't find one I liked. Troop down to see Chen who both Lucy and H recommend, who draws something for me and I try it in henna for a few days before committing to it permanently. Real one takes two hours of which most painful part is the Thai karaoke tape being played on a loop in the back ground and based on which I can only say from the videos Thais are very unlucky in love.

Tattoo great success from my point of view, but am slightly irritated by Thai tendency to walk up, point at it and say "ah Singha" while smiling their " you stupid farang" smile, as although similar style of lion, is quite clearly NOT the singha lion. This stops when tattoo scabs over as grey of shading and yellow from edging blur in scab into greeny puss colour and instead people just point and wince which sadly for me is an improvement.< SPAN>



November 11th


Island life very conducive to fantasies of riches, further helped by low cost of everything and HTB and I indulge ourselves with footballer and WAG lifestyle by having massage every day at cost of £3. I go wild on final day and have everything thus having massage, facial, hair condition, manicure, pedicure and foot condition for sum of £12 while lying on beach. Slight fly in ointment when Thai woman tuts at my carefully shaped nails and files them into points, which I personally quite like, but know beautician friend Charlotte to whom I am due to pay visit on my return will disapprove of. However on basis that 'squoval' is barely a word in English language and well beyond my grasp of Thai I resign myself to future disapproval and return to currant enjoyment. Bliss!

Win surprise approval (so far as I could tell – they might have been hiding irritation that I was eating their lunch and I'd never know) of some of Lucy's Thai friends by trying and liking fish that has been stored in a barrel for a thousand years, (or similar title) which tastes like strong anchovies. Am also lucky enough to try a traditional laap, served raw which is delicious but I find the texture of raw mince strange.


November 12th

On last night with Lucy and H we go to local restaurant for meal and encounter elephant on way there walking up street. We are allowed to feed her and take photos and I find experience incredibly moving. Note of amusement added when notice red bike light attached to tail thus making her road legal. I take life in hands at restaurant and order local specialty of raw prawns which are delicious (again once you adjust to the texture) and thankfully do not hurtle through me at rate of knots predicted by HTB.



November 13th


Spend last morning visiting Lucy's swimming class where HTB, H and I have all agreed to help out. Arrive early and lounge in pool awaiting arrival of school. Happen to look down and notice HTBs white swimming shorts have turned completely see through in manner inappropriate to the company of small children and send him to safe distance on other side of pool with instructions not to come to any area where the water is less than waist deep. Lucy and class arrive in company of parents, at which H drops to crouch as feels tattoos and nipple piercing inappropriate attire in front of parents for husband of head teacher and goes to join HTB in shallows where Lucy remarks to children we all look like crocodiles waiting for lunch. This proves to be injudicious remark in front of small children who then all flee from my attempts to help them as a giant cannibal farang. Final straw comes when small child asks Lucy if I am her Mother (who I have met and is 60 and has grey hair) to enormous amusement of all but myself.

Take budget journey back to Bangkok and out of choice between 3 hr wooden bench train with no aircon but costing 30p and 3 hr aircon coach costing £1.20 but smelling of pee we choose the latter. Coach almost entirely full of young Thais in army gear and I have horrified moment of thinking we have somehow got on wrong bus and are being recruited to Thai army where I will have Thai style Private Benjamin experience that will not end well, or worse that am forced to join male army as I am so large Thais can't believe I am female, when woman on bus asks for our tickets and smiles and confirms we are traveling to Bangkok. Aircon so strong that it hurts my sinuses but smell of pee so strong that it makes HTB's eyes water if we don't have air con on. Eventually I switch mine off and notice number of Thais doing same. Can't help but wonder if bus is like car where as you shut off one vent it comes out more strongly for remainder and pass happy journey waiting to see who gets last aircon vent and whether it will blast them from seat.


November 14th

Last day in Bangkok spent with new best friend tuk tuk driver who adopts us and insists on taking us to all the places he thinks we should go rather than the places we have asked him to go, none of which apparently open until much later, thus giving us time to see traditional gem store, silk store, carving store etc, all of which we walk through at high speed before returning to tuk tuk and saying things like "too expensive" "no more gem shops" etc, which he pretends not to understand. We finally make his day by asking him about tailors, so he takes us to the one he gets the best kickback from and on the basis that it seems to be the same price as the store we were considering anyway, we go in and are measured up for some items. Eventually he drops us at market we have been requesting, which appears to have been open for hours, but on basis of tailor purchases, charges us nothing for morning of driving round Bangkok, so we all end up happy.

Return to hotel where tailor has arranged a fitting for HTB's shirts which duly happens. Shirt looks fabulous and whole experience very decadent and James Bond for cost of M&S shirt.

Leave for airport at 9 and catch uneventful flight home at midnight which we thankfully sleep though, arriving at 6am before coaching home and sleeping rest of day.


November 16th

HTB returns to work and I find myself cleaning house at 3am and developing alarming tendency to slump in front of QVC channel, which I can only put down to jet lag and obviously nothing to do with not having job.