Dear readers, forgive me, it has only been 4 months since my last blog.

Incredibly we are back in Mumbai, but it is just a fleeting visit - a stopover on our way to Bangkok.  We have about 90 minutes to make the transfer to the Bangkok flight but the Indian security works almost in slow motion.  When I point out that my flight leaves in 15 minutes the guy just stares blankly at me, extracts a small pile of chargers and cables from my shoulder bag and saunters back over to the x-ray machine to put the bag through again.  I retrieve my bag, pack up my stuff and run to the gate.  Yes, my family have left me behind.  Mrs K had decided she wasn’t going to miss the flight.  (Back at Heathrow Sian only just made the flight after she decided to go in search of a Mac shop just before we were boarding).  We dash through the gate and board a waiting bus, where we wait a full 20 minutes for the driver.  This is just long enough to get reacquainted with the mosquitoes.  By the time we get to our seats the flight is running almost an hour late and the girls are complaining that the mozzies have had a feast.  Perhaps going for the cheaper stopover flight wasn’t such a good idea.

On this trip we have almost a full complement - just Jason is left at home, putting Parliament to rights in his new job at the Institute of Government.  The girls are very excited as they can now claim also to have been to India, another country added to the list.

The worst part of this trip will be the journey.  We left the UK at 10am on Wednesday and we arrive in Bangkok early on Thursday morning (7 hours ahead of the UK).  Anyone around 6ft has little chance of getting any proper sleep in an economy seat so I am feeling a bit like a zombie and not sure what day it is.  Luckily we get into our rooms before midday and catch a quick nap before heading out to explore the City.  Our hotel rooms are very comfortable and adjoining.  There is no Gideon bible but two packets of condoms provided next to the coffee machine.

We have just 2 days in Bangkok to take in the sights and then we fly down to Krabi on the coast for 9 days of relaxation on the beach. 

We are warned about the dreadful traffic in the early evening rush hour so we head off to the Metro.  We also get to try the Skytrain, a river boat, tuk tuks and taxis.  Caroline and I were here in 1988, (pre kids) and the place is unrecognisable.  I don’t remember there being many tall buildings 25 years ago but our hotel is in an area where skyscrapers are on every corner.  The Skytrain is a train which runs on an elevated track with high level walkways which feed into hotels and malls.  I am reminded of Blade Runner for some reason except that it is not raining – just hot and very humid.  The trains are all modern, clean and efficient but given that Bangkok traffic must be amongst the worst of any City in the world they are planning a massive expansion to get people off the roads.  The 5 of us travel across the City for about £5.

After our trip down the river to visit a leisure complex (which turns out to be a bit of a wasted trip), we end up in Chinatown and eat on a street corner, on the pavement.  We are reassured by the fact that it is packed – we are lucky to get a table – and the food is very good …and very cheap.  From there we take another Tuk Tuk ride to Pat Pong, the red light district.  We are in a street which is crowded with market stalls and girlie bars.  Temptations from both sides!  The stalls are selling mostly counterfeit fashion and  watches but also tasers, daggers and guns.  We are bombarded with pleas to go into one of the bars. The deal is normally about a £5 for entrance including a free drink for which you get to see some sort of show.  The kids are not that enthused about going in with Mum and Dad so Mrs K haggles them down and we send the kids in by themselves. Apparently Anthony gets targeted by a girl who fires bottle tops at him from a certain part of her anatomy.  I don’t ask for details.  They manage to extricate themselves without getting totally ripped off and meet us outside, where we are now each sporting a new watch.  The girls obviously now need to inspect each and every stall for bargains.  There is much haggling. The stall holders set their prices by banging numbers into a calculator.  Mrs K, the great communicator, decides to do the same and after a lot of grabbing and tapping on both sides, a price is agreed for two pairs of Vans sneakers for the girls.  Never before has Mrs K been seen so adept with a calculator in hand.    

Next morning we are up early for our guided tour of the City.  Our man, Pete, meets us in the hotel lobby with a driver and we are whisked off to the minibus where we will be in awe of the Bangkok traffic for the next few hours. I thought LA was bad.  But at least the minibus is comfortable.  The first stop of the day is the Grand Palace which is vast.  People are just teeming through the entrance five abreast.  There are 2 serious looking women who are checking that clothing is suitable.  Mrs K is pulled to one side – a bit too much flesh on show.  She is provided with a plain blue shirt and now looks like a prison warder.  The whole place is in good repair due to the fact it was rebuilt after being burned to the ground by the Burmese.  The palaces and temples are beautiful.  We hear about the King who appointed an English schoolmistress to teach his children (you will remember Yul Brinner in ‘The King and I’) and we see a lot of English influences in the buildings of the palaces.  Everywhere in Thailand the signage is in English as well as the native language and they drive on the left side of the road – very civilised.  Outside one of the palaces, we see the lamps which were given as a gift by Queen Victoria.  Pete tells us that they used to be gas powered but now ‘we have Electric City’.  Priceless.

It has turned into a really hot day and very sticky so we are grateful that the next part of the tour is a river boat trip.  As soon as Mrs K sees the river she lets out a quiet scream.  It is really choppy – might as well be at sea.  And the tricky bit is getting from the jetty onto the boat.  Both are moving all over the place and not necessarily at the same time.  But we get away and are soon speeding across the water at what seems like a really fast pace.  These boats are really powerful.  Mrs K hangs on and suffers in silence. 

From the river we visit the Reclining Buddha.  He is 46m long and 15m high and so special they put a building round him.  They have a clever funding programme here.  They sell pots of change (worth less than 2p for 50p each and invite tourists to put the coins in pots and make a wish.  Then they go round collecting the coins are re-sell them. It’s a type of QE I think. But an amazing sight so I didn’t mind paying 50p for the privilege.

It is lunchtime and, knowing how these tours can work, Mrs K has instructed the company that we don’t want anything too fancy for lunch – just a bite will do.  The first clue that all is not going to plan is when we arrive at a restaurant.  There is car park attendant, the door has a canopy and the waiters are all wearing white suits.  We go in anyway and are seated on a large table clothed table right in front of the singer who is being accompanied on a grand piano.  Well, when I say singer, that is an insult to the worst singers on X factor.  She is an Imelda Marcos look-alike.  The girls try to escape the horrible whining and head for the ladies but the sound is piped in there too.  We have to tolerate her but applause is out of the question – we cannot possibly encourage her. 

Pete, the tour guide, has decided to join us for lunch but is busy on his phone.  We order food but it takes a while to come, except for one dish which is placed in the middle of the table.  We are all feeling hungry so Holly asks “Shall we start?”  She decides to dive in and try it, albeit tentatively.  She is not sure what it is and invites Mrs K to taste it.  Mrs K takes some onto her plate and then asks Pete, “What is it?” .  “Its my lunch!”, he says.  Oops.  Luckily Pete is happy to share.  We are in fits of laughter.  Imelda looks over, worrying that we are laughing at her. 

As I write, the rest of the gang are fast asleep (just past midnight).  We leave for Krabi tomorrow morning so stand by for part 2.

Part 2

In Bangkok, someone rang our bell twice and knocked on the door at 7.30am.  At first I ignored it but then I thought I’d better get up and see what the problem was.  By the time I got there, the person had gone.  Mrs K is normally the one who wakes up.  She is comatose and thinks I imagined or dreamt it.  On Easter Monday (in Krabi), the phone rang again at 7.30am and I was hoping it was just a dream.  "Good morning sir, this is your 7.30 wake up call. We hope you have a great day with us in Krabi".  No one should be that happy at that time of the morning. We were up the previous night cheering on Oxford in the boat race and then Andy Murray in Miami so Mrs K's idea of joining the early yoga class is not feeling quite so appealing now.  However, we are soon installed on our mats on the lawn in front of the pool, looking out across the blue sea with mountainous islands in the distance. So life is not too bad.  It is a small class of around 8 people.  There is a guy who is grunting and shaking all his way through the moves – it is me.  My body was not made for yoga and the stiff shoulder doesn’t help.  Some of the women look like yoga professionals (including Mrs K) and we hear one complaining at the end that it wasn’t taxing enough.  I was the lowest common denominator.

I hope you all enjoyed your long weekend, despite the weather.  It is terrible here too.  The low temperature is around 24C but to enjoy that you have to be up at 3am.  It gets up to the mid 30’s and it is very humid.  Quite tough.  Anthony has got a touch of sunstroke we think.  He is routinely ill while on holiday.  Yesterday I was a light shade of lobster but today I am a darker shade of lobster and my tendency to not move much on the sunbed means I have an interesting patchwork of lobster and white over my body.  The 3 hours in the hammock was mainly to blame.  This all causes me much ridicule.  

We arrived here on Saturday afternoon and have been extremely busy.  A routine has been established.  We get complimentary cocktails in the lounge between 5 and 7pm so our day is planned around that.  On Sunday I got through my first book which was a very interesting account of the 1929 stock market crash and depression that followed.  It was written in 1954 but the parallels with 2008 are uncanny.  Humans tend to make the same mistakes again and again and then react afterwards much the same too. Parallels with other walks of life too no doubt.

Sian has been very disciplined, studying in the lounge in the mornings.  As I have been blog-less for several days, I have been sent to the lounge too this morning to get my work done before being allowed out to play.  Up to now the most discipline I have demonstrated is not having a beer until midday and I have might have missed on that one too.  Sian and I plan to go out on a kayak test today on the beach.  It will be a test to see if the shoulder will hold up for a half day kayaking through a forest which looks really good.

On Sunday night we went to Ao Nang by minibus – it’s the nearest town about 15 minutes away .  Mrs K took some time to get over the fact it was a shuttle service and not a private charter but she sucked it up.  We explored the shops and found somewhere to eat.  Everything is very cheap.  The restaurants outside of the hotel are about 75% cheaper than eating in the hotel.  Mrs K announces that she prefers to eat outside if it means she can shop afterwards with the savings.  I suppose if the hotel cut its prices, the small city that has developed outside of the hotel gates would disappear, putting lots of people out of work.  Not just the restaurants but the massage parlours, gift shops, moped rental and even arts and crafts.  It’s a rich tapestry.

Go Chelsea!  Undefeated in 28 cup ties (excluding penalty shoot outs). 4 out of the last 6 Cups.  Bring on City.  And all that despite Benitez.

So you will gather not a lot is going on here.  I fear we are slipping into bad habits.  Mrs K summoned a buggy to drive us to breakfast this morning.  She said she didn’t want to work up a sweat.  It is about 400m walk which makes it a quarter of mile.  Even so everyone agrees it is a bad move but we all get on the buggy anyway.

We have a boat trip planned for tomorrow which will take us out to Phi Phi (think James Bond).  It’s about 20 miles out to sea which the Keens are a bit worried about as we are not sea-faring types.  But hopefully it will be worth it.

My hire car for the week

Pancakes in any animal shape you request – this is a lion by the way, especially for Sian

Part 3

This is me in my most busy state. Apologies if you were just enjoying your breakfast.

The last two days has been a bit clouded over but because of that it has been very very humid. This morning I had another crack at yoga and have only just cooled down about 2 hours later now I am installed in the air-conditioned ‘homework room’ opposite Sian. She is studying Stats this morning which is my area of comfort though the few sessions we have together normally end up badly so we are under strict instructions from Mrs K to behave.

Last night, after a week of consuming stir fried noodles and special fried rice, I was ready to go for something different. We found a steak restaurant on TripAdvisor. The clue that they served Steak was that it was called ‘Carnivores’. But it was rated no.1 in the area so we jumped in a cab and rode over to Ao Nang to try it out. It was probably the nicest restaurant we have eaten in to date but still about half the price of the hotel restaurants. Maybe its because we have friendly lizards climbing up the walls. From there we walked into Ao Nang proper, along the seafront which is lined with shops, restaurants, massage parlours and tourist agents. Our ride back to the hotel was in the back of an open taxi with disco lights and speakers blasting out “Low” by Flo Rida – you know the one – ‘apple bottom jeans and the boots with the fur’. The speakers are so big the bass is moving my bag of bounty from the gift shops. At one point the music stops and I think the driver is being sympathetic to the residents near our hotel. But no, he is just selecting the next track. So we drive under the security barrier and pull up to the hotel lobby with ‘Shakira, Shakira’ blasting out.

Wednesday was a very active and beautiful day. We were picked up at 8am and driven to pick up our boat for the day. There is a moment when Anthony is not sure he is going to join us on the trip. He is still feeling a bit unwell and is nervous about being too far from land for extended periods. I am glad to report that he did join us and there were no emergencies and that he his now back to full health.

Elizabeth was there to meet us and was to be our guide. We also had a boat skipper but he didn’t say a word all day. Elizabeth is native Australian but is now married to a Thai, the owner of the tour boat business. The boat is a Longtail, made of wood with a canopy and steered with a single propeller on a long pole by the skipper. The engine is an adapted car engine, probably from a Ford Transit or suchlike. The prop is very effective and we speed along at a decent pace. It is 42km out to Phi Phi and we make it in about an hour.

En route I ask Elizabeth about the 2004 tsunami. She says it was terrible and she doesn’t like to talk about it – but then spends the next half an hour re-living it. We knew that Krabi had got off much more lightly than Phuket but it was still pretty scary - go see ‘The Impossible’ with Ewan Macgregor but only if you have a strong stomach. She described a normal day in which a family just like us had turned up for a day out at the islands. There had been a delay with the fuel and some of the gear which prevented them setting out as early as normal. The first clue that something was wrong was the water level dropped which made it difficult for some of the larger boats to push off the sandbanks. Then Elizabeth noticed a white line of surf on the horizon. No one really knew what was going on. But then they saw the fleet of speedboats racing back to shore ahead of the first wave. On this side of the Andaman Sea, the waves were not like those in Phuket, but they were still massive surges of water. They anchored their boat as best they could and took refuge on the first floor of the only building on the estuary. As the water surged through, Elizabeth’s husband grabbed hold of something on the ceiling with one hand and had her by the collar to stop her being carried away by the current. The damage in Krabi was mainly property damage with few fatalities but the real suffering was over the following two years when tourism collapsed and families were literally starving. Government aid didn’t reach the people that really needed it, getting stuck in the corridors of officialdom – or their pockets –allegedly. As tourists, we are reassured that no expense has been spared on tsunami early warning systems and there are signs everywhere to tell you which way to head for high ground. But Elizabeth says the last time they had a tsunami drill it was disaster – no one knew where to go or what to do.

Anyway, after that rather heavy introduction to the day we had a fabulous time visiting clear water coves and swimming off the boat. After a while even Mrs K is comfortable jumping in and climbing back on using the ladder. We are equipped with mask and goggles and see so many amazing coloured fish. I have never before been so close to schools of fish. At times we are surrounded by literally hundreds of striped neon fish, no more than a few inches from our bodies. And the scenery is stunning.

The rest of our time has been consumed with comparing sunburn – all except Mrs K of course who as you know refuses to go red – she goes straight to brown. Once upon a time we were the noisy family in the hotel or on the beach. So its ironic that it has become acceptable for my kids to shoosh small kids who make a bit too much noise while we are trying to snooze in a hammock or splash a bit too much in the pool. There is a separate ‘activity’ pool after all. Actually I think the kids are pretty well behaved on the whole but Mrs K and I have noted that even the smallest ones are amused by iPads and iPhones at the dinner table. Didn’t have those in our day.

Someone said that yesterday it was 40C. It certainly felt like it. The pool feels like a warm bath. Hey, but someone has got to do it.

A typical Longtail boat

Skipper

…and Elizabeth

A local from Monkey island

Bamboo island – a paradise

Sian’s latest animal pancake

Part 4

On Saturday, we finally get to do our kayaking trip. It’s just me and Anthony. We board the minibus and meet our companions for the day. Sprawled across the front benchseat and already sweating through his T-shirt is Fleming who is a Dane. Actually he is a Great Dane. His pot belly has a pot belly of its own and both are fully on display when we arrive at the kayak centre when he strips down to his speedos. We have a few minutes to get to know each other. Within a few sentences he has told me he doesn’t like the UK because when he came over last year for the Olympics, he couldn’t get any tickets. Did he try to buy any before coming over? No. He then also disses my suntan. Don’t I like the sun? He has been here 3 weeks. I ask if he has any family with him. No, his wife is in Italy where she goes to paint and he is here by himself where he can enjoy kayaking and other stuff. Right. Next he reminds me that Denmark conquered Britain twice. I concede that some of the Vikings came from Denmark but I am struggling to think of the 2^nd occasion. “The Normans”, he says triumphantly. “And after all that you learnt nothing”, he says. I am not sure if he is still complaining about the Olympics but I let it go. There are two other couples with us. One couple are obviously Russian. I ask the other couple. There is a pause. “Well, we’re from Essex”, says Gary rather sheepishly. Tracey’s blond hair and nails were a bit of a giveaway.

“Who has been in a kayak before?” asks our guide. Fleming boasts he has been more than two hundred times and says he doesn’t need a lifejacket. Tracey pipes up that this is her first time. Anthony and I get in a two man kayak. Poor Gary is having to put up with a hysterical fit by Tracey – she is directing venom at him through clenched teeth for wobbling the kayak unnecessarily. The water here in the estuary is dead calm but will be rougher when we paddle along the coast to the mangrove forest. But Tracey seems to get the hang of it.

Fleming in a kayak

We have a fantastic journey through the canyons and forest which takes us about 2 hours, completing a circuit. By the time we have returned the tide has gone out and we have to struggle across the slippery and slimy mud to the steps up to the bank. While we are washing ourselves off, we hear a very loud ‘splat’ followed by a scream from Tracey “Oh sh*t!”. We look over and Fleming is lying at the bottom of the steps with blood pumping out of a gash in his head. Gary and Tracey are just standing there looking at him. Fortunately he is conscious but the Thais are running around in a panic, none of them seeming to know what to do. I suggest that someone needs to get something with which to apply pressure to the wound and eventually a kitchen roll is found. I ask Gary if Fleming fell off the 2^nd wobbly step (I noticed it on the way down). No, apparently he got all the way to the top and just keeled over. Unfortunately, Fleming forgot the first rule from his ancestors when reaching (a new) land. Keep your balance when climbing steps. The good news is that he seems OK, if a little dazed and embarrassed. He is loaded on to the back of a truck and shouts to me, “You, English, is it bad?” I reassure him that the bleeding has stopped and the gash is quite small but he will need to get it looked at – looks like he might have some splinters of wood in there. “Don’t worry, my insurance is good”, he says as the truck speeds him off to hospital. I’m sure. I am desperate to get a photo but somehow that doesn’t seem appropriate. I got his room number but only later I found out he wasn’t staying at our hotel so I never found out if he was OK. Hope so. A real character.

The rest of our morning passes without incident except for Tracey having another bout of hysteria because the of insects which insist on joining us for lunch.

It has been mercifully cooler the last few days. So on Sunday evening we ventured into Ao Nang again for more shopping. Sadly the shop with the handbag that has been calling Mrs K was closed. I call that fate. Luckily it wasn’t a wasted trip because Sian and Holly got to have a fish pedicure. Yuk.

In the afternoon, the Keens descended en masse to a shop across the road from the hotel for massages. A special team was drafted in to deal with us. Mrs K has negotiated a special price. Afterwards we compare notes on how aggressive the Thai massage was. Mine was enough to ensure I won’t be going back.

It is our last full day in Krabi (Monday). Where has the time gone?  We are by the pool by 9.30am to make sure we get  full value.  

We are Starwood hotel members and were furnished with cards to give out to staff for exceptional service.  We have never before been organised enough to bring them with us which means we now have a pile to distribute.  The girls have been spraying them around like confetti. The service here has been generally very good.  The staff are very respectful - a lot of bowing with palms together.  And when they are the recipient of a card the bow is especially low and the smile very broad.  

This morning there was a woman complaining at breakfast that she hadn’t been allowed to reserve a table. No one else is.  There is a discussion which goes on for about 20 minutes. Unfortunately she is English and is a serial offender.   She was the one complaining about yoga being too easy last week and we have seen her complain quite aggressively about her cocktails not being quite right.  Holly has a word for her which I wont repeat.

Yesterday there was a slanging match here at the pool between two couples.  One couple were in the pool with their small kids who were doing a bit of splashing and shouting. Another couple tried to point out the advantages of moving to the activity pool.  The first couple pointed out that it is Easter holidays and so we had to expect a few noisy kids around.  From there it got less civilised. "Shut up!".  "Get lost you f****n b***h".  We haven't had this much action at the pool since we arrived. I was relieved it wasn’t Holly on the end of abuse for her shushing.

However after we get back from our massage, the Keens have reason to complain because our towels have been removed despite the fact that we left newspapers and magazines on them.  Our prime positions have been seized by other ‘johnny come lately’ guests.   We find our stuff in the towel hut and then we find the towel man.  There are no raised voices and no foul language but I sense that people are watching.  The guy has no real explanation other than he thought we had gone.  He apologises but there is no bow - he will not be getting a special card.   

A couple next to Mrs K (whose place had not been lost - towel man would not have dared go that far) sympathise with the infringement on our rights.  They are from Tromso in Norway and spend the next 20 minutes explaining to us how deep the snow is at home.  I point out that Chelsea beat Tromso in the Cup Winners Cup a few seasons ago which quiets them down.

Towelgate is on my mind but I am reading about the plight of Jews in pre WWII Germany so it quite quickly falls into perspective. 

Tomorrow we start our journey home, via Bangkok and Mumbai and will hopefully arrive home Wednesday morning. So that is probably about that. We had a great time, hope you enjoyed reading. See you soon.

Jeff