I have shamelessly culled this from an email I sent out back in 2005. I have others and I'm going to stick them on here once I've made a few changes as we lead up to the Life Writing chapter. I Hope to God I don't get desperate and start digging into them if I become bereft of ideas come TMA time and run the risk of falling foul of the OU plagiarism police.
'By now you should know that I am in Thailand (land of the smiles apparently) and a little research will inform you that I have chosen to visit during the rainy season (duh!) But then again that (the rainy season) hardly matters when having travelled so far that the culture, language and way of life is so different. What does it matter that whilst back in the UK you're all basking in 90 degree heat, and I'm clad in a 'Pack-a-Mac' waiting for Charlie Sheen's voice over to tell me that: 'someone has turned the taps off?' The taps haven't been turned off yet.
That said it is stiflingly hot. A confirmed sweat-boy like me will always suffer in this kind of humidity. And I am suffering terribly. The hotel we booked into in Bangkok was luxury. Unlike Bangkok, which is crazy, smog-ridden, and noisy. That said, everywhere is air conditioned to a world class extent; every taxi, every shop; even the trains force you to rummage through bags looking for the fleeces and jumpers nobody ever brings.
Once finished with Bangkok it was off to the train station. Still not quite ready to face another DVT risk-laden flight we had pre-booked a couchette overnighter to Chaing Mai to the north of the Kingdom - all jungle, canals and rivers beginning with P. Apparently tigers and black bears hangout in these parts. As we travelled through the jungle, through rice paddy fields and shanty towns, close to the Burmese border we hoped they - together with the alleged bandits we heard about, remained as elusive as the sun shining and the blue sky.
The food's good - all fired up and worked in front of you - and a diet of rice, chicken and snake beans seems to be doing wonders for my fast diminishing waistline. I haven't yet succumbed to the lure of Kentucky Fried Chicken or MacDonald's (both are here, though it's satisfying to note that the giant figure of Ron Mac at the entrances at least has the decency to adopt the Buddha prayer stance).
Looking forward to tonight as I'm led to believe there's a night market here in Chaing Mai - which I'm hoping will at last provide me with the ray bans, Rolexes and rave-ups I've heard about before coming out here. I'll first have to drag myself away from the hotel terrace where I have already been known to spend hours watching strange black cockroaches the size of gerbils, tottering awkwardly around the lily pond as if wearing badly fitting high-heels and on a constant look out for European cockroaches with fat stomachs and even fatter wallets. Hmm, must be something in the water.
High points so far include seeing a boat the length and width of a barge given a hand-break turn at about 90 MPH which nearly tipped over and sinking with all hands and enough fruit and veg to supply a small nation; a taxi driver who insisted on driving bare foot and partly cross-legged in between traffic jams; stumbling into a prosthetics for sale road show and noticing that no-one else there was equipped with a full complement of limbs; taking the sublime and futuristic Bangkok sky train; and having my first ever massage and pedicure, (no, not one of those, though they are on offer).
As I sit here writing this and looking out of the window of this Internet cafe the starving dogs are emerging from their shelters, the mopeds are put-putting into life and sounding like demented sewing machines and the taxis are in full tootle. So I'll sign off for now. '
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