Heading Home

Although I haven’t lived there since 1980 – and from 1977 to 1980 was much of the year at university in Cardiff – I still refer to Yorkshire as home. This does tend to confuse some people since despite having a flat in Reading I’ve never considered Reading as “home” – and anyone asking where I come from is always given the answer “Selby, Yorkshire”.

I find that people who have never been there do seem to have some pre-conceived ideas about what this means. When at university there was a series on the BBC called “All Creatures Great and Small” – based on the James Herriot books and set in the Dales. As a consequence some people thought I lived in an area of great natural beauty.

Others back then heard my accent and thought of the Yorkshire Miners – and because coal had been discovered and there was news on the Selby Coalfield they assumed I came from a pit village.

Neither image is true. The Vale of York is all pretty flat. We used to joke that you could pass your Driving Test in Goole without having to use a handbrake or do a hill start. The village I was born in is very rural and orientated towards agriculture – the soil is very fertile and they grow lots of peas, potatoes and other such delicacies.

And though I once had a trip down Kellingley Pit my father was a carpenter & joiner – so I have no connection with mining whatsoever!

New Potatoes

Hopefully about this time in two weeks I will be touching down at Heathrow for a brief Christmas in the UK with family. So far – despite all my time working abroad – I have always managed to come back to the UK for Christmas. The only Christmas without family was in the UK – when they’d all gone off to Bangkok to see my sister (who was working there at the time).

Naturally – after six months away – I’m looking forward to certain things – fish & chips, Yorkshire Pudding, corned beef, real ale and home cooking to name a few.

Since my experience over here of “chicken remains curry” (a curry that seemed to contain all the bits you might use to flavour the gravy in England but wouldn’t eat) I’ve exercised a bit more control over the cook and what he feeds me. Now I only get chicken that’s boneless and skinless. With a bit of effort we’ve managed to get Fish Sauce – thus enabling us to cook a Thai style dish of chicken & baby corns.

Best find has been new potatoes – which boiled with mint and served with butter are really excellent in taste. Coming from a rural background my father and grandfather both used to grow potatoes – and both having birthdays in June used to see if they could have a few ready in time. It was something to look forward to – even if it meant that we got grilled fish to go with them rather than the usual fried in batter version (since new potatoes are no good as chips).

Living overseas normally I’ve had to put up with the ubiquitous “French fry” or occasionally boiled potatoes – so it makes a really pleasant change to be able to get something I really like but have normally only had in the summer months in England.

Not well

To be honest I hadn’t felt well since arriving back from Thailand on 4 November. I had a bit of what I thought was a sore throat that transformed into a dull ache on the left side of my face over the weekend of 7/8 November. On the Monday I woke up with a touch of hot & cold sweats – which cleared about ten o’ clock – but my stomach felt dicey all week.

Weekend of 15/16 November I still felt shattered – and Monday had another hot & cold sweat – and was generally not feeling at all hungry – though my cook’s “chicken remains curry” wasn’t something I fancied in the first place.

Thursday I felt shattered all day – went to bed early – and on Friday – for the first time in over two weeks – didn’t feel like death warmed up in the morning.

Being ill in foreign countries isn’t something to be recommended – but is a hazard of the ex-pat life and varies from country to country.

When we were on site in China – about 80 miles from the Hong Kong border – the policy was that if anyone fell ill – or was bitten by one of the six varieties of venomous snake that lurked on site – you would be sent via emergency ambulance to Hong Kong. Some folk were worried that the medical centre didn’t have the anti snake bite serums – but as explained to us by the Aussie Medic this was because there was no way (unless you caught the snake) you could be sure it was the right one – nor if the snake had decided to waste it’s venom on you. Apparently (so he said) since humans are not the snake’s normal prey biting them is a way of scaring them off.

With correct first aid treatment were one to have been bitten then by the time the ambulance reached the border they’d have worked out what had bitten you should it have injected venom from how you were reacting in good time for the hospital you were headed for to prepare.


When in Thailand I did spend a night in the Bangkok Pattaya International Hospital after a sudden collapse. It seems I had some sort of bronchial infection – though they did no end of tests on me to see if I’d had any sort of heart attack or stroke (thankfully I hadn’t). I was well looked after – if you are going to be ill then provided you (or your company’s medical insurance) can afford it then that’s the place to do it.

Back in the seventies my grandfather went into hospital in the UK for an operation – though he didn’t know it apparently his chances were 50:50. He recovered quite well – so well in fact that the doctors asked him if he knew why. “I came in here to get better “he replied.

He related to me how shortly after he’d had the operation the bloke he was sharing the room with offered him a bottle of beer he’d sneaked in. Despite the other man’s offer – and being told he was a miserable sod – my grandfather refused – “the doctors have told me not to – you do what you like”.

And next morning – as grandfather succinctly put it – “they carried that bugger out feet first”.

Twenty Five Years

Friday marked the twenty fifth anniversary of me joining the company.

Back then our main mode of written communication with suppliers was the telex – our bid evaluations were done in pencil before being photocopied, our purchase orders were typed on NCR sets and our material control was done via a clunky mainframe computer. Requests for inspection and shipping were hand written on the appropriate company forms.

Our quotation requests were heaps of documents sent out to suppliers – bids came back in sealed envelopes – woe betide anyone not using the Sealed Bid labels to identify them.

I was fortunate enough to be set to work as an expeditor with two blokes who had each put in more than thirty years service with the company – and who were excellent teachers.

These days of course everything is system generated.

Is it any better? I dare say that today there’s less handwriting to be done.

But on the other hand you could come into work and get something done rather than wade through the twenty or more e-mails that have come in.

Rain

Drivers

We’ve got a new driver since on the day I went on vacation the previous driver was either fired by the Rental Company or left of his own accord. According to the rental company he did something improper in the office – according to him he wasn’t getting paid so he walked out. Helpfully he still turned up at our office on the Friday night to introduce me to Venkat, show him where I lived, and even travelled to the airport to help see me off on my vacation.

Who to believe is therefore anyone’s guess but Venkat has also complained that he’s not getting paid on time!

Rain

Arriving back late on Tuesday from Thailand Venkat told me it had been raining for the past two days in India. Though it was fine that evening it started again on Wednesday and doesn’t seem to have stopped since. Roads are flooded and the traffic is even more chaotic. There are occasional blackouts and the TV doesn’t always pick up a signal.

About the only compensation is that it’s a little bit cooler in my flat and I’ve even managed to spend time with the air conditioner switched off!

Foreigners Regional Registration Office (Part 3)

Friday also saw yet another trip to the Foreigners Regional Registration Office. This was to change the address on my residency permit. In the rain and traffic it took forty minutes to get there. The queues of people sat on chairs waiting were small and it only took twenty five minutes to get all the stamps and amendments to the certificates necessary.

So my credentials are now bang up to date and fully compliant with the company’s compliance procedures!

Thai Festivals

Last Friday I once again took the late night flight to Thailand for another weeks’ vacation in Pattaya. I took the airport limo to Pattaya – am not sure if it was the car or the driver but the noise of the engine didn’t sound good. I’m no engineer but I do know that an airport limo that size should not be screaming at 5000 revs to do 140kph! My suspicion is that the automatic gearbox was not working properly – though whether the driver took any notice of this I can’t say.

Pattaya is obviously getting busy as I had to wait on arrival at my hotel for a room to be made ready. At Greg’s Kitchen for breakfast Greg said he thought things were getting busier – and there have certainly been more people sitting on the beach and in the bars this week than when I was here in September.

Pattaya is currently gearing up to celebrate Halloween and then the local Loi Kratong Festival.

Quite why the Thais have chosen to import the pagan Halloween I’m not sure – it‘s probably to do with tourism since although not public holidays they seem quite keen on other “western” festivals such as Christmas and St Valentines. Easter also gets a look in – although one could be forgiven for thinking it was all about rabbits, chickens and eggs.

Loi Kratong takes place on Monday. It’s got something to do with “washing away sins” as the locals float banana leaf floats bearing candles, incense and coins out to sea or down river to appease the water spirits. It’s one of the more picturesque festivals as many of the women dress up in traditional Thai costumes for the event – and they also set of hot air lanterns into the night sky (assuming its fine!)

Not to be confused with Songkran – the week long “festival” in April that involves everyone throwing water at each other for a week. Some people think it’s really great – and the Lonely Planet Guide would have you believe its great fun – but others such as me consider it nothing but a pain and when I worked here I would take the week off and return to the UK.

Soldiers of fortune?

Today we had a meeting for us ex-pats with the company’s HR director who’d come all the way from the UK. There were about twenty of us at the meeting – with lengths of service with the company varying from three months to thirty seven years.

The interesting bit was when he asked us how we came to end up as ex-pats in the first place – since quite a number of us seemed to move from place to place, either with our company or another.

Money obviously plays a part – but only one person – a former contractor – admitted to that being his reason. Amongst other reasons given were adventure, lifestyle, more interesting work, change of scenery, need to get away, wanted a change.

I guess there’s also – for me anyway – an element of it becoming a way of life. I’ve spent about seven of the last ten years outside the UK – going back to the home office you feel like a stranger. You go back and settle in and then after a while start to want to be away again. You scan the information pages to see if the company has any jobs coming up in interesting places. But there’s nothing. And then, just when you’ve got settled back in the boss’s secretary calls because he wants to see you about assignments.......

Diwali

Apparently today is the actual day for Diwali.

From my perspective it seems to have been a long day of more crash, bangs, wallops and explosions outside than average. I’m not sure whether the purpose is to have the biggest display or to have the biggest bang.

Anyway, I’ve stayed well clear of it. Per the article attached from the BBC these fireworks aren’t exactly safe and I’ve no intentions of joining the casualty list.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/8311901.stm

Beans on toast

Today is a day off for a local festival known as Diwali – or (I think) Deepavali dependant on which language of India one speaks. It’s some sort of religious festival = I’m told it’s akin to “our” Christmas and seems to involve giving gifts, lighting candles, and setting off some rather loud fireworks. As well as – to judge by the fact that the traffic is even more chaotic than usual – shopping.

Or at least that’s what the locals do. You can read what it’s supposed to be about at the Wikipedia link below if you are really interested.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diwali

From my perspective however it’s a few more hours in bed and a day loafing around reading The Economist and The New Statesman.

I also – having lavished the princely sum of 75 Rupees on a tin of baked beans – taught my cook how to make beans on toast.

No doubt he – as well as some of you – might think I’m crazy with (what with all the good local vegetarian food on offer) but as I’ve written before if I don’t have something familiar (bacon & eggs, beans on toast, ham sandwich) every so often life isn’t worth living!

Remembrance

In October 2002 I was working up in Teesside – which meant getting up very early every Monday morning and catching a flight there – generally arriving around 10 in the morning.

On arrival I greeted my old friend H with the usual banter about how the weekend went – he then asked me “Do you know Chris K?”

“Yes” I replied “I worked with him in Pembroke, Thailand and in Singapore”

“Oh” says H “Well there’s been a message from our head of department asking if anyone here knows him. They aren’t sure yet but they think he’s been killed in the bomb that went off in Bali”.

I went to my desk to check my e-mail. About an hour later came confirmation – Chris had been killed in the Bali bombing.

I’d first met Chris in Pembroke. I will not claim that I knew him well – but he was young, keen and enjoyed his rugby. After Pembroke he worked on assignment in Pakistan – where at one stage our company evacuated the site when bullet holes were found in the office walls due to neighbouring tribes fighting.

In 2000 I encountered him again in Thailand – before he departed onto another project starting in Singapore in 2001. In 2002 I joined the same project in Singapore where I met him again – and had cause (as a fellow member of our Procurement Department – albeit he did Contracts whereas I do Materials) to consult him on dealing with a difficult issue.

I last saw him there in April 2002 when I left to go to China – little knowing that would be the last time I would ever see him.

Apparently he’d gone to Bali on a Rugby Club weekend and had only just arrived in a bar.

A year later I remember watching the England Rugby Team stand in silence as the event was remembered at the kick off to a game in the 2003 Rugby World Cup. Whether Chris ever aspired to play for England or not I don’t know – but I felt quite moved remembering his love of the game.

And occasionally, relaxing in a bar somewhere in S E Asia one wonders “Will this be my last drink?”

Bangkok Taxi

Returning from vacation on Monday I asked the girl at reception to get me a “nice taxi” to Bangkok airport. By this I meant one of the better class cars that cost a bit more but go direct to the airport in a reasonable degree of comfort.

What I got instead was a “Bangkok taxi” – painted an interesting shade of pink and complete with a driver who hardly spoke English - except to tell me that the seatbelts in the back didn’t work.

Anyway, we headed off at about 4.50 pm and out to the Sukhumvit. The traffic was quite busy so I wasn’t too worried that we were only managing a speed of about 50 mph.

However, it seemed that either the taxi or the driver were incapable of exceeding such speed even when we got onto less busy sections and were being overtaken on both left and right by the usual assortment of pickup trucks, busses and trucks that inhabit any Thai road.

I also realised that he was taking “the scenic route” – we perambulated through Chonburi – and when the airport hove into view (at about 6.20 pm) took in a tour that seemed to go all around the airfield itself.

We eventually got there at 6.50 pm – having taken some two hours – and on taking my cases out of the back the blighter expected a tip!

Never mind. I suppose I shouldn’t complain too much as it only cost 900 Baht (about £18.00) and it only took me about 20 minutes to check in and get through Thai Immigration and Customs – in plenty of time for my 9.25 pm flight to Chennai.

Next time I will have to remember to be more specific. The Airport Taxi that got me to Pattaya in just over a hour the previous week may have benefited from less traffic ( at 6.00 am in the morning even Thai traffic is light) and cost 3,000 Baht – but it’s certainly less stressful and whilst there’s no need to pay that much for the return journey I think a bit more money for a less stressed journey is probably worth it.

Low Season

Whilst September may be the “low season” in Pattaya there are quite a few tourists about – and the past two nights my favourite live music bar has been fairly full. Although this makes it harder to get a seat by one of the fans it does mean the band tend to put a bit more effort into the music – on the obvious basis that this means more tips or free drinks for them from the customers.

The number in the band has also gone down to four – the mama san – Nit - wants to cut costs and presumably when Noi was alive and playing it didn’t matter if they had five in the band as he was joint owner of the bar.

I first saw Nit last night on this trip – she’d been away at one of the temples in Bangkok making merit (or whatever) by doing a short stint as a Buddhist nun.

Whether she makes any merit or not she certainly knows how to make money and her instinct for cost control is alive and well.

On Tuesday I went to see the film “District 9” – about an alien spacecraft stopping over Johannesburg. I was offered an assignment there back in January of this year – which I turned down. Judging by all those aliens wandering around the place probably just as well.......................

Vacation

Monday 21 September and Monday 28 September are both public holidays in Chennai - so naturally I've taken four days from my annual leave entitlement and flew to Thailand on Friday night. Once again the flights were on time - so I departed at twenty five past midnight and was checking into my hotel at 7.00 am Thai time on Saturday.

The news indicates a continuing instability in Thailand and the "Red Shirts" and "Yellow Shirts" continue to argue and fight over who runs the country and the consequences of the 2006 coup.

Just as long as they don't take over the airport like they did last year......!

Mumbai

With the Jet Airways pilots return to work at the weekend I went into work on Monday to discover that the trip to Mumbai was on again.

So we flew Monday evening, visited a contractor yesterday, and came back this morning.

There’s not really lot to report – Mumbai Airport is certainly a lot more modern and impressive than Chennai – but so is my late father’s shed – so that’s not saying a lot.

What we saw of the city itself from our air conditioned black limousine was that the tall buildings had a lot more character to them – indeed looking across the lake from the hotel at night it was similar to Hong Kong – but the roads and traffic were no better .

Still, it’s somewhere else to add to my list of places I never expected to visit!

Life on Mars

Back in the 1970’s – when I was at Grammar School – one of our British Prime Ministers tiring of a strike by the coal miners called a General Election to ask the question “Who runs the country?”.

As one commentator has said the reason he was voted out was the electorate took the view that if you don’t know then we’d better let someone else have a go.

Back in those pre- Mrs Thatcher days industrial strife was a regular event – and there was even a song by The Strawbs whose chorus line ran “You don’t get me, I’m part of the union”.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KdOCWUgwiWs

As the character Sam Tyler says in the BBC series “Life on Mars” (a series about a policeman who has an accident and finds himself back in 1973) it’s like “another planet”.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/lifeonmars/

It felt a bit like that here this week as we attempted to organise a business trip to Mumbai.

One of the main airlines operating internal flights in India is a company called Jet Airways. On Wednesday about half their pilots “called in sick”. The cause of this is – as far as I can make out from local newspapers – that two pilots decided to form a union and were sacked by the company owner for “indiscipline”. As a consequence other pilots are staying home in sympathy – and after five days it’s still not resolved. All the usual actors – Government, other unions and the like are involved and in the meantime other airlines reap the benefits and hike their prices – causing Government (yet again) and other agencies (who clearly are ignorant of the basic economic laws of supply and demand) to protest and threaten further actions.

It appears to have now been resolved but whether we ever make it to Mumbai remains to be seen.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/8252965.stm

Back in my youth I remember going through the Dorset village of Tolpuddle and being told by my father all about the “Tolpuddle Martyrs” – farm laborers in England back in the 1800’s who were deported to Australia for having the temerity to form a union.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tolpuddle_martyrs

And even Norman Tebitt – loathed by “the left” and hero of the Thatcherite right – was at one time an official in the British Air Line Pilots Association in the UK!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Norman_Tebbit

The apartment

Probably not the most exciting of photographs but as part of the purpose of this blog is – as well as musings on music, life and whiskey – is for folk at home to see how I’m getting on.

My apartment has two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, dining area and living area where the TV resides. There’s also a small balcony with a washing machine on it.

All this – along with cleaner, cook and food for £950 per month – about the same as it cost me to stay in a hotel in Kuala Lumpur back in 1999!

This week saw the place plunged into darkness for about half an hour when a blackout occurred during a storm. At least I‘d finished my meal this time around and so no risk from chillies.

On the domestic scene I think my cook is getting the idea of what is needed to cook bacon and eggs – though he still doesn’t seem to grasp that I don’t need a plate of noodles of chapattis to go with them.

Other than that there’s not a lot to report. There was an article in the local press about the rise in mosquito carried diseases – Dengue fever, Malaria etc – during the monsoon season. A possibility exists that I might have to visit Mumbai in the next few weeks – but nothing for sure.

Irish Whiskey

Some folk have wondered why I take every opportunity at duty free to lay hands on Irish Whiskey.

The answer lies in my seven month stint working in Cork during 1989/90. Whilst there I asked one of the company directors what were the best Irish Whiskies.

The answer was Jameson 12 Year Old and Bushmills 10 Year Old. So as you could still buy duty free at the airport back in those days the first thing I got on my first trip home was a bottle of the Bushmills 10 Year Old. A month later it was a bottle of Jameson 12 Year Old – and so on every month till the assignment finished.

I made the mistake of taking the Jameson’s back to my parents at Christmas that year. Having been used to the usual cheaper Scottish whiskies my father took a liking to it – and decided that as it was now in his house it was now his whiskey.

Then wondered later why I never took anymore up with me. The answer is of course that it’s not cheap. But as I only occasionally drink it I decided that if you are going to drink whiskey at all then you may as well have a good one.


Years later I took a bottle with me to Thailand. The climate there doesn’t – to my mind – naturally encourage drinking it – I associate it with winter, a fire and a good book rather than 30C and an air conditioner.

So it was hardly touched at the end of my time there. As I couldn’t take it home I took the bottle round to my friend BJ’s. He’s a Texan who normally drank “Black Russians” – so it took a bit of persuasion to get him to share a drink – but once he’d tried it he recognised how good it was.

The result is that every time I go there I take a new bottle – which he and I – plus anyone else we are feeling generous towards – gets to share.

It remains my whiskey. And as long as BJ has some in his cupboard he knows I’ll be back for it.

Bacon & Eggs

When I were a lad (as we say in Yorkshire) Saturday morning was usually used for a lie in bed reading comics. Sometimes however I would awake to the smell of frying. This could mean only one thing – digging!

The choice was simple – either get up, eat the bacon & eggs, and help father with digging the garden – or ignore it and get dragged out of bed later and do the digging without the fortification.

Bacon & eggs forms a central part of what is called the English Breakfast – though I doubt if there are that many folk – including me - who consume them for breakfast on a regular basis. I sometimes find myself consuming them when staying in hotels on business trips – after all someone else is paying for them and since breakfast is often “included” in the price one wouldn’t want the client’s money to be wasted.

When I worked in Malaysia one could not, of course, get them in the quality hotels. They do something called “beef bacon” – which has the toughness and flavour of old boots. They also do a similar abomination called chicken sausages

Here in India it’s possible to get them in hotels – but when I mentioned bacon to my cook in my apartment he hadn’t a clue what it meant. As I’ve previously reported I’m on a semi vegetarian diet in my apartment. My cook only does Indian food – which means I get chicken and fish – but the rest is vegetarian as that’s what the local s eat and he knows how to cook. (I don’t eat lamb or mutton – it upsets my stomach – even my parents – who bought me up to eat everything that’s on the plate – recognised this!)

The problem for me – especially having just had a week’s holiday in Thailand – is that the food gets really boring after a while.

So yesterday evening I went to a “shop that sells everything” to see if I could find bacon. Sure enough they had some – as well as pork sausages. It set me back the equivalent of £13.50 for a pack of bacon, some sausages and a pack of ham – so it’s not cheap. But this morning I showed my cook how to do it – amazingly he’d never fried an egg – and it tasted really excellent.

And even better – no digging to follow!

Back to work

Saturday was my last full day of vacation in Pattaya. As usual it started with a swim, then a check on my e-mail followed by a trip to Greg’s Kitchen for bacon and eggs. After that it’s off to the beach to snooze and read The Economist – then off to “Bam Bam” for a relaxing foot massage.

Back to the hotel – shower – shave and freshen up before evening meal and a final sharing of the Jameson’s with my Texan Friend. About eleven off to my favourite bar for some live music – eventually off to bed about two in the morning.


Sunday night I flew back to Chennai. It took all of about fifteen minutes to check in and get through to the lounge in Bangkok Airport – the only problem then is somewhere to sit. In their anxiety to sell stuff the fact that not everyone there is shopping mad and some just want to sit down seems to have been forgotten.

Flight was late but I touched down in Chennai 11.30 pm local time and was through immigration by midnight. I then waited 40 minutes for my luggage to turn up before meeting my driver to get back to my apartment about 1.00 am.

Today it’s back to the grind. One letter has also turned up – a welcome to the company’s Twenty Five Year Club. 13 November 1984 I joined the company – have to admit I never thought I’d end up travelling as much as I have when I joined. After all, Procurement is generally an office based activity.

And expeditors and inspectors aside – it generally still is. Just that the company has more offices these days and international clients expect the work to be done in offices in their countries rather than them sending a representative to our offices.

The Music of Pattaya

The music on offer in most of the bars in Pattaya is of the canned variety. If you are of the opinion that rap, hip hop and other such variants constitute music then this might just be to your taste.

Though as ought to be obvious to any visitor here the majority of the denizens of such places haven’t come here to listen to the music.

For those of us that prefer something to listen to a number of bars however do live music – the quality of which varies from bar to bar. Most of what is played stems from British and US hits from the 1950’s to the 1980’s – from such groups as Deep Purple, The Eagles, Pink Floyd, Zee Zee Top, the Rolling Stones, Dire Straits, Led Zeppelin and The Scorpions. Given that my taste in rock music got stuck around there (with a few exceptions – The Road to Hell for instance) this suits me fine.

Some songs that never really made it back home still get played – Dire Straits “Walk of life” for instance still gets a regular airing over here.

My late friend Noi would sometimes break into Delilah – which used to go down quite well as everyone got into the chorus.

One also realises that some songs you never noticed – such as “Final Countdown” – can actually sound quite good when a band goes at them full tilt.

A few years back part of “Wish you were here” became popular – although most local artists did tend to struggle with the lines “Did you exchange, a walk on part in the war, for lead role in a cage”.

The Cranberries hit “Zombie” became quite popular here – though I doubt if any of the people either singing or dancing to it have any idea what the words are about.

The song most regularly heard – and which to many people is the song for Pattaya – is Hotel California. Many of the words are so relevant – “this could be heaven and this could be hell” – some dance to remember, some dance to forget” – and – of course it’s final cry “you can check out any time you like but you can never leave”.

Though why the band in my regular bar associate “Soldier of Fortune with” me is anyone’s guess. Paranoid perhaps..........

Who'll stop the rain?

It is, as I write this, raining.

Rain is not unusual at this time of year in Thailand since we are, after all, moving towards the rainy season proper which runs through September and October. When I was first here in 1991 we carried out a refinery shutdown in October. It must have been planned by some accountant in an ivory tower somewhere who had spotted that there was less activity on the refinery in October than at any other time of year but obviously wasn’t smart enough to ask why.

For the first two weeks of the shutdown the site was knee high in water and mud – then the sun came out, it hardened to concrete, and all the work was finished during the last two weeks of the shutdown.

At least today it’s raining before I have reached the beach. Yesterday we had a shower whilst I was there – one might think you’d stay dry under the massive sun umbrellas but reality is more a case of hiding under canvas awnings and hoping for the best. At least it stopped after about half an hour and things returned to normal.

Like most beach resorts Pattaya is a bit thin on things to do in the daytime if it’s raining. The hardened 24 hour drinker can always find plenty of bars here to sit in. There are also these days quite a number of massive shopping malls which one can wander around – perhaps buying clothes or trinkets at bargain prices.

Cinema offers another alternative – all the “summer blockbusters” seem to appear here – with English soundtrack and Thai sub-titles. I can’t remember the last film I saw at a cinema in the UK but during my time here I’ve seen all sorts from Shrek to Gladiator. Some are not all that intellectually taxing – I went to see GI Joes on Monday – possibly the best thing in it is the villainess who wears glasses and looks a bit like Sarah Palin. You just know that she’s going to join the “good guys” sooner or later as she’s way too good looking to get killed off.

Back to Thailand

I departed for Chennai airport at about 8.20 Friday night – the traffic was heavy – and got there about 9.00 pm. It took about 45 minutes to get through all the security, passport and customs checks and reach the passenger lounge – which was quite crowded – and there’s not a lot to do there other than sit and wait. Unlike many of Asia’s airports these days Chennai really has very little to offer the shopper – even the Duty Free had only the usual suspects when it comes to whisky or whiskey – and only the normal Jamesons on offer.

The flight left at 25 past midnight – Thailand is 1 ½ hours ahead and the flight time about 3 hours. It was a bit of a struggle in that the only logical thing to do on such a flight at such a time is try and get a few hours sleep – but the crew insist on trying to offer you food, or sell you drink, or interrupt one’s fitful sleep with an announcement from the captain to tell us we are at 29,000 feet and somewhere over the Bay of Bengal. Like I really needed to know that?

Anyway, we touched down 5.30 local time in Bangkok – there’s hardly anyone there at that time and I was through Immigration and even had my luggage collected by 5.45. I also spotted a booth before Customs selling “Classic whiskies” – so naturally I gave it a look and lo and behold they had Jameson Special Reserve 12 Year old Irish Whiskey at Baht 1,150 (about £21.00).

Suitably provisioned I got an airport limo and we were off on our way to Pattaya at about 150 kph – thus ensuring an arrival at my hotel at 7.00 am and a chance to get some sleep.

After awaking at 10.30 I was able to have a swim and then off for a haircut. Onto Greg’s Kitchen for a full English breakfast – bacon, eggs, beans, sausage, potatoes & baked beans with toast to follow and a cup of tea. A welcome break from my semi vegetarian diet in India.

That accomplished it’s down to the beach to sit in a deckchair for a few hours – then off shopping for new shoes, glasses and trousers.

Funny - when I worked in Thailand I’d get such things back in the UK when on leave. Now I’m in India I go to Thailand for them!

Delhi Again

This week saw me once more off to Delhi.

On the tarmac the portable air conditioning unit broke down – which meant by the time the aircraft took off and the aircraft’s own air conditioning switched in we were on a very hot airplane. Two seats away was an American woman – one of those who have been here too long – dressed like a local and adopting what I believe is called “the lotus position” in her seat.


This week’s hotel was The Trident in Gurgaon. It is closer to our company’s offices and recommended by our security consultants as the most secure hotel for us to stay at.

As hotels go I have to admit it’s “something else” – lots of water screens and incredibly high ceilings. It sort of has the feeling of walking into an English cathedral. My first night there I went to their Indian restaurant where they had a group playing classical Indian music on sitar and associated instruments.

The flight back on Friday was delayed by about an hour – and this week when I turned on the TV all I got to see was England 102 all out at Headingley!

Anyway, next week will hopefully be my last trip to Delhi – I fly tomorrow and come back Thursday – and on Friday night am off to Thailand for a week’s holiday.

Delhi

Wednesday saw the boss and me making our trip to Delhi – a place my driver helpfully informed me is the capital of India

We caught the 17.05 flight with Jet Airways. I got a window seat next to the emergency exit over the wing – so was instructed by the nice hostess on what I had to do in case of emergency. Saddled with such immense responsibility we took off on time – and to my surprise we actually had edible food in the meal we were served.

Delhi touchdown was at 19.35 – and after collecting our bags and meeting the hotel limo representative we had a brief walk across a building site before climbing into the limo for a trip through the traffic to the hotel that took about 40 minutes.

The Sheraton hotel we stayed in was very nice – and their restaurant serves quite a good buffet evening meal. The most noticeable thing about Delhi was that the people dress in a less traditional manner than is the case in Chennai.

Thursday was a long day at our Delhi offices – we got back to the hotel about 8.40 and headed again for the buffet. Next morning we were away at about 9 to the airport for the 10.25 flight back to Chennai. The lounge area of the airport is certainly a lot nicer than it was in 1996 when I spent a day there due to a plane breaking down.


Back at my apartment that evening am pleased to discover that my landlord has fixed the sat box on the TV and I can watch the cricket. Even better when I turn it on England have discovered how to bowl and Australia are 203-8!

Next week I get to do it all again...............

Blacked out

Yesterday evening was one I’d rather forget.

We left the office to make the 3km or so trip to the bank I’ve just registered with in order to activate my ATM card. We departed about 5.40 and eventually got there 6.20 – where it took all of about 90 seconds – less time than it took my driver to wander off to relieve himself – to do the necessary.

On the way back to my apartment we bagged our first motorcyclist – attempting to squeeze past on our left his handlebars banged against the car door. It seems there was no damage – and after he and my driver had exchanged what I assume to be the standard pleasantries and gestures we were on our way again. I got to the apartment about 7.


My meal was about ready so I changed and sat down to eat. About three quarters of the way through there was a thud and all the lights and power went out. It really was quite dark – one of my cooks got a cell-phone torch out so I was able to finish eating – though this did mean I accidentally ate a chilli. (Good job I have spent years in Thailand otherwise this could have been fatal!)

My cooks got some emergency light going – as well as a candle from somewhere – but it was quickly becoming quite hot. The electric would return in 30 minutes they said. I decided the only sensible thing to do was as little as possible – and settled down to read last week’s New Statesman by the emergency light.

Eventually – at 9.40 – there was a cheer outside and the lights came on again.

This morning my driver was 30 minutes late – for the second time in four days – with stories of accidents, traffic and washing the car. Suffice to say he picked the wrong day for this – a missive was despatched to his boss – so if he does it again he gets replaced.

My boss related the story of how one of his drivers came up with a story of having a puncture – so he asked to see which wheel had been changed. Given that the chosen wheel was as dirty and the wheel nuts as evidently untouched as those of the other car wheels he made his driver aware of the consequences of such tales in future.


After last week’s trip was cancelled tomorrow sees me off to Delhi for two days – at least I hope it’s only two days..................

The Apartment

As recorded earlier I moved into an apartment on Tuesday. It has two bedrooms – complete with two bathrooms – a kitchen, dining room and a living room area at the entrance.

One thing that is yet to be fixed is the TV – there were three portable TVs when I first looked at it - but he promised to replace these with one decent widescreen TV. This finally turned up today and they wired it into the sat box – unfortunately they haven’t sorted out subscriptions to anything other than about six Indian TV channels – so if it isn’t sorted by Thursday I guess I will just have to depend on Test Match Special via the internet to find out what is happening in the only sporting event that matters.

I had a brief excursion on foot towards a shopping area this morning to find a mobile telephone. Nokia & Sony Ericsson had shops next to each other – I tried the Nokia one first. It was even hotter in there than outside – and since the staff seemed splendidly indifferent to the idea of either helping or serving me – a local who came in after me got all their attention – I went to Sony Ericsson next door.

Here it was much cooler and I was asked straight away what I was looking for.

“Your lowest cost mobile phone” I answered. This turned out to be a model that cost INR 1,800 – which equated to about £25 Sterling – so bought it as the next model up was twice that. I don’t need a camera or a thousand and one other gizmos – all I want is a phone to call my driver, occasionally call the other ex-patriates and tell the servants when to have the food ready.

So far the servants’ cooking has proved to be OK – though they do tend to cook a bit too much – and I’d like to try a different Indian bread to chapattis! Local cuisine being vegetarian that’s what I mostly seem to be getting – though on Wednesday I had a chicken curry and on Friday some fish that was very nice. I take the view that food is food – I’d rather have them cook vegetarian stuff they are familiar with than poison me with undercooked pork.

Leaving the hotel

Leaving the hotel

Last night was my last night at the ITC Park Sheraton Hotel and Towers as my allotted thirty days of hotel life expired.

It seemed all the waiters knew I was leaving as this morning there were a host of good wishes from many of them as I ate my last breakfast of cornflakes, tea and toast. I guess it says something for their character that they are able to put up with a grouch like me on a morning. I like to think I’m not as bad as my sister – my father’s advice at her wedding was “Do not attempt intelligent conversation until she has been up at least an hour” – but I do find needlessly cheerful people on a morning quite irritating and have a stock set of answers ranging from “Alive” to “Barely alive” if asked how I am on a morning.

This evening was mixed emotions as I finally checked out – all the nice ladies from Guest Relations were there to bid me goodbye.

I’ll probably be back – it’s about ten minutes by car from my apartment and (shock/horror/disbelief) I’m thinking of joining their health club. Not that I am remotely interested in working out in a gym – the last time I was in a gym was thirty four years ago at school – but they do have a very nice swimming pool. It’s about 20 metres long and I’ve been doing twenty lengths every evening – and would like to keep it up.

Besides which – it’s a good place to loaf around on a weekend!

The Apartment

As for the apartment – my landlord having had the place scrubbed, cleaned and re-painted it is a lot better than I was anticipating. I have a cook and a cleaner – and an older chap who seems to be a runner, door opener and fixer. I had quite a nice vegetarian dish tonight – but have no idea what some of the ingredients were!

Delhi?

Next week I might be going to Delhi for a few days. I was due to go tomorrow – but it got cancelled. Will have to see how it pans out – I had a day of my life wasted there back in 1996 when the plane I was on broke down coming back from Thailand.

Reading Materials

I have two fears – one is of having nothing to read – the other is of having too much. The problem when abroad is often that there is nothing to read – and I’ve dreamed of getting back to my bookshelf back in England to read my collection of history books – only to find when I’m back in England there’s never the time.

About the only chance is generally at Christmas – a common complaint of the rest of the family being that I will spend an entire week without setting foot outside the house.

Being a graduate in economics I subscribe to The Economist magazine. Our Geordie economics teacher recommended we read it way back in 1975 when I started my A level course in the subject. I read it regularly at school and through university – but tailed off once I started work.

This changed when I was dispatched to Milan in late 1990. You could get English newspapers at the main railway station in Milan – Saturday morning was usually an expedition to the station to pick up an English newspaper and The Economist. After all, I needed some intelligent analysis of Mrs Thatcher’s resignation (which was going on at the time).

Eventually I took out a subscription – working where I was in China there were no news outlets and it was the only way to ensure a copy. You can get it in the big cities – but often if it has anything on China there are pages missing!

For reasons best known to themselves The Economist stopped including the full UK section in overseas editions – their limp explanation being the foreigners don’t like it (yet regardless of where you are it has a full five or six page section on the US).

So back in 2004 – for a different viewpoint – I took out a subscription to New Statesman. It may not have as much international coverage – but it does cover politics in the UK pretty well (albeit from a left wing perspective).

The problem with subscriptions when working abroad it the question of when it will arrive. Generally in Thailand The Economist turned up near the start of the week – the New Statesman towards the end. Both in good time to read on the beach at the weekend.

In Malaysia my New Statesman usually arrived mid week – but despite being located in a national landmark (Petronas Twin Towers) deliveries of The Economist were so erratic I resorted to buying it at the newsagents.

So far in India The Economist has made it every week. New Statesman has fared less well – one edition in three weeks.

One can but hope. And be thankful that my subscriptions allow me to download both off the internet.

http://www.economist.com/

http://www.newstatesman.com/

Foreign Food

Going down to eat tonight – my timing calculated to coincide with the tea interval of the first day of the test match – the waiter informs me they are having a week of American Food.

Would I like to try it?

“No” was my brief and to the point reply. “I’m in India - I didn’t come to India to eat American food”.

Instead I had a chicken kebab type dish – pieces of chicken marinated in various spices and cooked on skewers along with some dhal and some garlic naan bread. Excellent.

As some folk know I spent three months in a place called Conshohocken in Pennsylvania back in 2001. There wasn’t a fat lot there but it did have a welcoming bar called “The Great American Pub”. It had a long bar with high stools – and in some ways matched the image of an American bar that those familiar with “Cheers” would recognise. They served something there called a Philadelphia cheesesteak – which I quite took to – but other than that and some quite good pizzas I found American Food was rather bland.

Maybe that’s because I’ve been spoiled with so much Thai, Malay, Singaporean, Chinese and now Indian cuisine over the past ten years – and of course the world class food of my native Yorkshire when I’ve been in the UK – but that’s my view and I’m sticking with it!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Conshohocken,_Pennsylvania

Foreigners Regional Registration Office (Part 2)

Today we had our second trip to the Foreigners Regional Registration Office.

This time we arrived at 1.40 and joined the queue of people sat on chairs waiting for the relevant office to open. At about 1.50 a little man appeared, opened the door and asked for the pieces of paper we’d been given last week.

Then we were allowed into the room to sit in front of the counters we saw last week.

The little man appeared again with the paper slips, handed them to the attendants, and they started to shuffle paper.

At the time there were about half a dozen American backpackers having a conversation at the tops of their voices when one of the attendants started to call people by name. Things went a bit quite – otherwise you couldn’t hear what the names were – but it must have been my day because I got called early. I handed over my passport and signed four pieces of paper before being told to sit down. So I sat down – wondering what they were doing with my passport.

Five minutes later they called me again, gave me a certificate – and my passport - and that was it.

So now I’m officially resident, can leave the country, and can open a bank account.

And it was only 2.30 pm!