Paradise Found

Kho Tao

With two weeks of holiday ahead of me and an insatiable desire to relax I decided to venture south to Kho Tao, a little island near the cluster of party islands nestled in the Gulf of Thailand.  Neighboured by Kho Pangnan and Kho Samui this little sister is a quieter spot frequented by divers and snorkellers for it’s amazing array of fish and coral.  Following a month of lesson planning and generally settling into a new continent my brain desperately needed a temporary shut down.  I set myself two tasks, get a tan and read a book. 

The overnight journey began with a coach to Bangkok where my trustee iPod serenaded me for the three hour stint.  Next step was negotiating with the countless taxi drivers that jump on you like a stray monkey.  Arriving in Bangkok is a surreal experience, the bus station lanes are lined with streetfood vendors and taxi touts.  It attacked my senses and almost hypnotised me to follow a driver who dictated a fare of 250 baht to get me to the train station, his first quote was 500 – more than double the cost of the coach I had just alighted.  I broke from my trance and sought advice from the information desk where I was told the fare is approximately 150 baht in normal traffic.  I quickly rebooted myself and found a more reputable driver who got me to Hua Lamphong for 141 baht.  I scurried past the army of taxi touts shouting “Where you going?” to buy my train ticket in the air conditioned station.  Unfortunately for me the sleeper train was booked up so I was left with a seat in the 2^nd class carriage offering reclining seats, 6 hours later.  No other choice but to have a wander.  I made it down the river and decided to return swiftly when I sensed the stench of wee on the footpath.  I’d rather sit in a café for 6 hours than walk amongst someone’s wee, thanksverymuch.  So with so much time to kill I settled into the coffee shop and studied my copy of the Lonely Planet Guide to Thailand that informed me that Kho Tao was going to be worth the wait. 

Once the train arrived I was past caring about the lack of a horizontal place to sleep and snoozed all the way to Chumphon.  The train arrived almost an hour and a half late so the ferry I had a joint ticket for was already halfway to KT.  I had to buy a fare for the Catamaran which was scheduled to depart in 5.5 hours so I faced another long wait at a train station.  I sat in the sun and read a chunk of my book, already making a start on both my tasks.  The Catamaran crossing was the last leg of the 27.5 hour journey, and I too was on my last legs.  Exhausted and hungry I arrived on KT and was brought to a resort that my taxi driver recommended.  Not sure why, apart from perhaps a cut of their profits, as it wasn’t the kind of place I’d imagine when conjuring up idyllic thoughts.  The open condom on my bed was the last straw so I scoured Sairee Beach for alternative lodgings.  The accommodation fairy was smiling on me the following morning for she granted me refuge at a nearby resort offering a private bungalow with a pretty porch and private bathroom for the reasonable fee of 400 baht.  Same price as the place from the night before that offered a musty scent and second hand prophylactics.  I felt much more at home in the clean pretty bungalow surrounded by fragrant Frangipani trees.

My first day was filled with a very strict itinerary of reading, sunbathing and swimming.  No rest for the wicked as they say but I took regular swimming breaks.  The water was so clear I could see my feet, so soft it felt like it had added moisturiser (Sairee beach, sponsored by Dove!?) and the waves so gentle I floated on the surface of the water watching the taxi boats bob around as if in a merry dance.  Breathing in, letting my lungs fill, I rose to the surface and breathing out to empty them I felt my body sink back under, it felt as though it was just me and this incredible element on this island.  Despite slathering SPF on every square inch my sunbathing resulted in a tricolour of brown, pink and white.  My poor Irish skin is so unaccustomed to the sun it simply doesn’t know how to tan.  I decided to put it through rigorous training over the following five days and managed to balance it out somewhat and now am two tone, satisfactory progress.  I spent two days switching off and managed to read an entire book.  This is an amazing feat for me, I often get distracted while reading and find myself revising pages I have just read but not absorbed.  So used to multi tasking in my everyday, I find it such a challenge to simply sit and read.  By the third day I was starting to miss the sound of a conversation so when my French neighbour invited me for a beer on the beach I was delighted to accept.  We chatted into the evening and, over the course of my holiday, we whiled away an afternoon here and an evening there.

On a cloudy day I took myself on a boat trip of the island which included snorkelling in several of the bays and a trip to Kho Nang Yuan, a small neighbouring island which is apparently famous for snorkelling.  I needed to pop my snorkelling cherry and no better way than on a guided tour.  I arrived in one of the few rainstorms endured in my five day visit.  Soaked and hopeful for a blast of sun I arrived to be met with Mark, our tour guide, who hurriedly took details and handed out snorkels before rushing off to get ready for the trip.  After my few days of R&R I started to sense that Mark was a tad highly strung so kept a little distance so as not to catch it, stress is contagious dontcha know!  It came time to board the boat so Mark led us to the pier where two boats were moored up side by side.  Mark boarded with the dexterity of a gecko scaling a wall but unfortunately my sea legs are underdeveloped so hopping from boat to boat is more of a challenge to a landlubber like me.  Our highly charged tour guide took off out of earshot, ignorant to my plea for assistance.  The gap between the pier and the boat, and then the boat to the boat, looked like a deathly crevice to my untrained eye.  Eventually a helpful fellow passenger came to my rescue and assisted me aboard, a South Korean man who kept saying “whiskey!” when he heard where I’m from.  Are we only known for alcoholism?  I must be aware of this on my next visit to Bon Bon and undo all of this injustice.

As we departed Mae Haad pier I already acquainted myself with two girls from San Francisco.  We bonded over our mutual disgust at the scuzzy snorkels we were given, luckily they offered me an anti-bac wipe which solved the problem nicely.  I wondered if a discount would be on offer for handing my snorkel back cleaner than it’d been in a while…but I wasn’t going to approach Mark with this proposal for fear of being thrown overboard.  Our first stop was Shark Bay, where we were warned about strong currents so I sat that one out.  The excitement on the faces that returned whet my appetite and I was excited about my first snorkelling experience.  However, still a bit nervous so I asked Mark if there was anything I should know about technique and such and his response was to “watch out for coral”.  When I asked where it usually lives (as in, is it floating around me, is it at the bottom, is it around the rocks, etc…just the usual ignorance of a newbie who’s never before encountered coral) he said “where you see it”.  Hmm, about as helpful to me as a braille map.  With the more helpful and informative advice from my new San Franciscan acquaintance I entered the water with a degree of confidence where I marvelled at fish of all sizes and colours.  After a few more stops lunch was served aboard the boat before the final stop to Kho Nang Yuan where a viewpoint displayed the beauty of the island from above, accessed via a wooden walkway hugging the shore and a potentially treacherous scale of rock and boulder but so, so worth the effort!  After descending I rewarded myself with a swim and a snorkel on the beach where, in even shallow water, many curious sand coloured fish meandered around my feet.  I am exhilarated and hooked on snorkelling, and have vowed to purchase my own snorkel and goggles…at least I won’t have to count on anti-bac wipes for my next underwater excursion.

On my return from the boat trip I decided on a quiet dinner for one and had the most delicious Massaman curry by candle light at a little restaurant in Sairee town, called Blue Chair.  If my budget had allowed it I’d have eaten here each night.  Their Fish curry was so scrumptious I almost married it.  The island satisfies both party goers and peace seekers alike and as a solo visitor I was very pleased to see some bars showing English language movies on a big screen, offering me the chance to have an evening beer without looking like some sort of bar lush.  One evening I ventured into a bar playing hip hop, one of my favourite genres, because they had a fire show – dudes flinging fire meteors (length of rope with lit wicks at either end) all over the gaff.  One display was so awe inspiring it left me mesmerised, one of the performers got a large rope which was just lit at one end and flung it round and round til sparks flew off it, creating a bow of light around him.  I had forgotten my camera but the display will forever remain in my memory just for me.  As an ex photographer, I think that sometimes it’s important to experience something sans camera so you really live it.  With my camera I suffer the battle between having an experience and recording it, it’s not possible for me to do both.

On my penultimate day I accompanied my neighbour on a walk to Mae Haad beach for a change of scenery, just 20 minutes along the path aka the Yellow Brick Road.  This path comes alive at night with pretty lights enticing customers into the beach bars offering stunning views while you sip cocktails on cushions and beanbags.   

We discovered a cute little beach bar, called Karma, playing lovely chilled out music and nearby some rope swings suspended from a palm tree, that until now I had only seen whilst picture researching for luxury travel magazine features…now I was sitting on one, bliss!  After a swim, we went back to Karma that evening and I enjoyed some Bob Marley and beer, swaying lazily in a hammock while the waves kissed the shore.

My return journey was a tad shorter at just 24 hours and my tasks were diligently completed, I finished two books and got myself the beginnings of a tan.  I am still two tone, starting with brown shoulders working down to a whiter shade of pale but the dip-dye look is so A/W13 dahling, so I’m right on trend.

Images: Sinéad Millea

Monkey Magic

Khao No Khao Kheo

The fortnight of Summer school came to a spooky crescendo with a Hallowe’en party for the kids.  On Friday morning my group of cute little preschoolers metamorphosed into vampires, witches and Harry Potters.  At morning song I turned around to see a Mummy arriving to the festivities, a K1 kid wrapped head to toe in red stained gauze!  I was heartily impressed by the creative effort the parents had gone to on their busy mornings to get these fun filled ghouls ready for school.  The day was action packed with games and a visit from the infamous Mr Pumpkin Head who went from classroom to classroom chucking sweets around for the kids to scramble for, organised chaos!

By Friday evening I was ready for a beer to celebrate surviving my maiden voyage as a teacher.  A rooftop party followed by a trip to Bon Bon resulted in a lost Saturday…let’s just leave it at that though, yes?!

So, swiftly moving on, I accepted an invite to visit Khao No Khao Kheo, just 40 minutes from Nakhon Sawan.  Erm, that’s what Google Maps said anyway, but I’m not sure the bods behind Google take Tuk Tuks into consideration when plotting routes.  The journey lasted an hour in a noisy Tuk Tuk that I was sure would croak it halfway down the highway.  It coughed and spluttered all the way to our destination.  Our driver stopped at selected locations for photo ‘ops’ and brought us to the temple set into the hill where he waited for us to scale the steps for the most exquisite view I’ve seen since arriving in Thailand.  Looking across to mountains and palm trees I filled my lungs with the fresh clean air.  In NS the air isn’t exactly conducive to deep cleansing breaths.  Traffic and garbage fumes fill your nostrils, one of the first things that hits you on arrival in NS is the stench but it easily blends into the cluster of new sounds, sights and smells so the stench is quickly forgotten with all the senses going into overdrive and before long you’ve gotten used to it.

 The day had a crazy element to it, as they all do here, with the monkeys that roam free on the roads, paths, parked vehicles…and anywhere they can get to.  I turned around at the shriek of one of my friends who had a monkey clamber on top of her head.  Her shocked and fearful expression was enough to bring me to fits of laughter and tears to my eyes, I was useless to her cries for help but she handled it superbly, I’m not sure I’d have been so graceful with a monkey on my head.  The lady selling monkey treats at the side of the road coaxed it down with a stick.  Meanwhile I was at the periphery trying to compose myself and come up with a believable excuse for not assisting.  In my defense, I’m not the only bad friend, another reached for her camera and set it to ‘record’.  But I think it would be a step too far to post the video here so I’ll leave you with your imagination instead. 

The day ended with the decreasing patience of our driver who, despite having no English, managed to communicate that he wanted to leave.  So, after a long stay at the top of the hill marvelling at the view and contemplating what an awesome decision it was to come here, we descended and set off back to NS, still bursting into sporadic fits of laughter at the opportunistic monkey making a dash for my friend’s barnet.  Perhaps it has a dream to be the next Paul Mitchell?  Monkeys can have ambition, non?  The journey home incorporated a pretty view of the sunset over the highway and many waves from passing motorcyclists.  Remember what I told you about dogs on motorbikes?  Didn’t believe me?  Well, BOOM, how d’ya like these apples?

Images: Sinéad Millea

Never A Dull Moment

ESL in Thailand 

Never a dull moment, as the saying goes.  Exercise is very popular here in Nakhon Sawan and the park provides ample opportunity to participate.  On a balmy weekday evening I ventured out on a walk of the periphery with some new friends, the plan being to cover two laps and get some dinner to satisfy the hunger mustered by our four mile walk.  One lap covered and we were feeling energetic, ready to take on the second until a man approached us with an unusual request.  He was in the park with his son called Big, a daily ritual for them.  Big particularly likes to play volleyball but has no team to play on and no friends to create one so his Dad approaches people they meet on their nightly excursions and asks for a few minutes of their time.  Big has learning difficulties, he’s 22 physically but mentally he’s still a child.  His father reckons he also has Autism although told me that this has never been officially diagnosed.  Anyway, Big likes volleyball and it’s pretty much all he likes to do, but only passing the ball back and forth really, and only with women.  Go on Big, I like this kid’s style!  He cherry picks potential team mates from the park for his father to approach with his rather unusual invite.  So, we had an unscheduled stop to our walk for a quick volleyball practice.  I learned how to hit the ball correctly thanks to my new team mate and Big got to play with two foreign ladies, how exotic! 

With the change of temperature from the UK & Ireland to Thailand, I knew it was only a matter of time until the lurgy took hold, I’d even packed cold remedy from my trusty local Wilko back in Blighty.  I wasn’t wrong.  Come the weekend, all I was fit for was bed.  There was no Bon Bon, temples up massive hills or blueberry ice cream for me this weekend, just back-to-back ‘Greys Anatomy’ which, I must admit, was a treat.  I dosed myself up on Wilkos finest and a rather decorative looking cough syrup that I picked up in the Big C pharmacy for 40p.  Low priced remedy = quicker recovery = increased productivity, it’s a no brainer really.  

I was back on track by Sunday so took myself off on a shopping trip with a friend who wanted to get some motorcycle practice in.  We trundled off on her 50cc moped to the riverside market for some dinner ingredients, a group of the girls had planned a meal whereby each guest would bring a dish and they were all going to be western.  What a delight!  Having eaten rice and noodles daily for almost a month I was craving something closer to my own home cooking.  Don’t get me wrong, the food here is great but when rice, noodles and a bucket load of spice is your only option you become weary of the same cuisine day after day.  I never thought I would EVER tire of Thai food, but you know what they say, too much of a good thing…  So we’re pootling along the streets of Nakhon Sawan on the chicken chaser, feeling like characters in some sort of computer game, the goal being to mow down the farangs.  Sounds like fun, huh?  Not when you’re in the middle of the road with a gazillion mopeds swerving in and out, not to mention the numerous Toyota Hiluxes cutting you off.  The rules of the road are defunct here in Thailand, they have their own unwritten rules which are made up as they go along.  I have discovered it’s kind of like a game of ‘chicken’ - whoever is the bravest gets the right of way and that’s that.  Forget what you learned at home, that shit don’t fly here.  I’m getting better at crossing the road now and have adopted the ‘Evil Knievel’ persona that most motorists possess, my four year old nephew would be appalled at my hypocritical abandonment of the safe cross code.  We picked up our western goods and set off home to calm the nerves.

Dinner was at a colleague’s house, a Kenyan lady who has been in Thailand for two years and rents a palatial house near the school.  Owned by a local policeman, who's now stationed in Bangkok, this house is a far cry from my bedsit across the road so a real treat to be in a home dining on a western meal.  Dinner consisted of chicken in paprika, cooked by a creative lady from Connecticut, mashed potatoes by native Bostonian (and my motorcycle chauffeur), Chappatis and a Kenyan rice dish by our hostess plus my attempt at good ol' English Trifle, made with what ingredients I could find – UHT whipping cream which came out a little lumpy (how does THAT happen??), a substance resembling custard which was so sweet it was akin to licking Willy Wonka himself and vanilla sponge soaked in a synthetic flavoured grape jelly (I’m not a fan).  The others complimented it, I was grateful for their blatant lies…  

My splurge on a two course meal needed to be worked off, and I am planning for a beach trip, so there’s only one thing for it, that easily accessible exercise I talked about.  I joined in on an aerobics class in the park one evening, all kitted out in my new fitness gear and ready for action.  My lack of co-ordination put a kibosh on the plan however, the aerobics lesson comprised of an hour of several sequences, kind of like the zumba class I took back in Bristol (http://sineadnua.blogspot.com/2010/10/around-world-in-11-dances.html).  The other people in the class were flying around like pros while I hopped from one foot to another flailing my arms about hoping that by pure fluke I would hit the nail on the head.  I was sure that I was providing great entertainment to the rest of the class but I am so used to being a spectacle here in NS I was beyond caring.  Plus, my beach visit is looming and my bikini has not seen the light of day in a while, nor has my torso.  Head down and jump, it’s all exercise right?  The next evening I took part in a boxercise class in the local gym.  Now we’re talking!  I sweat out about as much as I did on my excursion up the temple steps.  Bikini body, here I come.  We punched and kicked the air along to a loud rock playlist while the (particularly attractive) instructor monitored the room to ensure we were kicking ass with all our might.  Attractive man, rock music, kicking ass, happy Sinead Nua. 

Week two of summer school is now taking shape and I am researching fun Hallowe’en themed games and crafts for the kids to partake in, I’m not sure who’s having the most fun - them or me.  Today’s craft was to be culinary, to tie in with a food vocab review.  After a peruse through Pinterest I found a great little creation – Witch Hat Cookies, made from Oreos with a Hershey Kiss on top, held in place by a dollop of peanut butter.  There’s no shortage of American treats here although that Hersheys chocolate isn’t chocolate, it’s chocolate’s evil sister dressed up to look like  a tasty treat but ready to laugh in your face.  Give me a Galaxy any day.  The Witch Hat Cookies were a hit and with the help of the sugar hit I think I’ve made a few little friends, happy faces all round.  As I type, the teachers are busily planning a mass trick or treat sesh within the school for a Hallowe’en party on Friday, with games galore.  Any recommendations from readers?  What Hallowe’en games did you play?  Feel free to post them!

Images: Sinéad Millea, Samantha Rey

Flying Solo

ESL Teaching in Thailand

Lads, it’s been hectic.  I had forgotten how mentally arduous it can be for the new girl, going from autopilot back in Bristol to having to think about absolutely every move I make here – lesson planning added to route planning just to get to the shopping centre and miming around the language barrier every time I want to order dinner.  It’s exhausting…yet thrilling.  Although, I’ve experienced so many ‘dumbass moments’ I’ve lost count, notably getting lost on a Songthaew…again.  I went off for a solo expedition to the Big C, feeling brave now you see with my one-week Thai experience under my belt.  I thought I had it down this time, but yet I still found myself pootling along an unfamiliar part of town.  On the plus side, life looked pretty exciting along the river at dusk, the streetfood carts glowed from the light of the shops and bars that dotted the periphery.  People buzzed about in between the wok wielding cooks by the side of the road, and the smells of skewered meat and stir fried chillies wafted into the songthaew, that chilli can get you right in the throat unless you’re careful!  I’m hoping to build my tolerance of chillies whilst I’m here, they like it burning hot here so I should get in some practise for sure, if the aroma is anything to go by. 

Anyway, there I go talking about food again, let’s get back on track.  So I miss my stop on the songthaew and the driver’s getting a little curious as to whether the bleedin’ farang in the back has any clue of where she is.  He stopped the vehicle and spoke to me in Thai.  Now, I don’t yet speak Thai so I had to hazard a guess that he said something along the lines of, “C’mere burd, what’s the story like?  Are ya getting’ off or wha’?”  I answered in basic English and confused facial expressions, seems I’m becoming fluent in those.  The driver got out and went to find someone to play the game of ‘Find That Farang’.  I demonstrated my streak of independence with a flash of the Google map I had pulled up on my phone and explained where I wanted to go by pointing and repeating the road name my apartment is on.  I realised later that a) I was pointing to the wrong street on the map and b) Thai people (or at least those in NS) don’t use maps and therefore would most probably be confused at having one shoved in their faces.  I could have been pointing at a map of Mars for all anyone knew, even my body language is failing me now.  I have got to get a move on and learn some Thai!  I finally made it home following a conference between about five people manning food carts and other songthaew drivers who pulled over and waited with me on the road until my connecting chariot arrived.  Terribly polite and helpful, but also mortifying to someone who is usually well equipped (with legible maps) for navigation.

My first lesson was looming so I went home and prepped myself for my grand debut as an ESL teacher.  I was to be observed whilst teaching the littlest of the school’s tots, the K1 students.  The teachers I remember most fondly from my early schooling had tidy hair, smelled nice and smiled a lot, so these were the things I made sure to have down to a T.  Equally as important was my lesson plan, packed with games, rhymes, questions, flashcards and props.  This was going to be my visa into ‘Teacherland’ and I was extremely hopeful that these particular immigration officers were going to be welcoming.  Thankfully, the kids co-operated with the newbie.  I’m guessing it’s after puberty that they develop the ability to smell fear and the inclination to take advantage of it.  Luckily for me, they were wonderful and I had a fantastic first experience. 

I spent the week delivering the lessons to the K1s and helping their teacher prep the boys in the class for their 15 minutes of fame on the ‘Yuwapat’s Got Talent’ stage.  They were to perform a fully choreographed rendition of 'The Wheels on the Bus', one of the finer nursery rhymes I think you'll find, a post modern observation of public transport.  On the day they were, of course, hilarious.  One just stood with his arms by his side and stared at the audience of teachers and parents wielding iPads.  The others jumped up and down doing the dance all out of sync.  They were flawless in the classroom rehearsal though, flawless.  You just can't get the talent these days.

Friday night arrived with an insatiable thirst for a celebratory beer, just the one of course.  I went for several (whoops) bottles of ‘Leo’ and some delicious plates of Thai food with some colleagues and met a few more new faces.  That ‘one beer’ ended at 1am with me scaling the stairs of my apartment building.  They switch the elevator off at midnight, which is great during the week when I’d rather not hear the incessant ‘DING!’ of the opening doors, but at the weekend that would be the sweetest sound if it meant I could soar up the six flights rather than crawl up in a beery haze.  Saturday morning brought with it a searing heat, there goes my plan to visit Khao Woranat Banphot, an ancient Buddhist temple located at the top of a hill.  Only accessible by a steep winding road or 450 steps this temple houses a replica of the Buddha’s footprint and a pagoda encasing a relic of the Buddha dating back to the Sukhothai period.  The Sukhothai Kingdom existed from 1238 until 1438 and you can read more about it here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sukhothai_Kingdom.

Instead of being cultural I decided to go for an iced coffee (didn’t take long to convert me, huh?!) at a nearby bakery that I had found on Johnny Interweb.  The Thongbai Bakery served me a cheesy, hammy, eggy, toasty thing and it was delicious.  A lovely lazy Saturday morning breakfast is a ritual I have brought with me across the continents, it’s far too enjoyable to leave back in Europe.  So I indulged further and brought my book to another café I’d heard of through a new friend here in NS, called Bittersweet.  I had been fantasising about their waffle with blueberry ice cream all week and, heck did it live up to it’s reputation!  I enjoyed half a book with my double breakfast and not one side order of guilt.  That’s one ritual that I’ve gladly left behind.

Following a creative burst in a bid to brighten up my room I went to a local karaoke bar where a new friend was celebrating his birthday in Mariah inspired style.  I turned up stone sober to a karaoke party, waddahell was I thinking??  Despite my crippling shyness making another appearance I had fun and realised I was surrounded by crazy fun hilarious people.  Nice one, just like home.  On Sunday I visited the temple finally, but got my timing slightly skewed.  I mistakenly thought that after a rain shower it would be cool enough to take on the 450 steps…at 14.00…again, seems I’d taken leave of my senses.  I reached the summit a sweaty mess and had to take a seat in the teeny bit of shade I could find atop Khao Kob, 185.5 metres above sea level.  Once I’d mopped my brow (and wrung out my sleeves) I had a little wander about and marvelled at the spectacular views of Nakhon Sawan, which now looked like a teeny model village from the top of the mountain.  There was a man on a microphone speaking in Thai, the only words I could fathom were “Nakhon Sawan” so, call me Sherlock Holmes, I reckon he was talking about the temple’s presence in the city.  

Sitting next to him was a Buddhist monk in his orange robe.  A slight panic came over me.  I had read online and in guidebooks about the etiquette surrounding Buddhist monks and that a monk should not be touched by a woman, although in my blind panic and moment of dehydration having sweated most of my bodily fluid out clambering up the steps I had forgotten the detail and just completely avoided the monk altogether, averting my eyes for fear of causing some unknown insult to the poor chap, so I ended up standing at the top of 450 steps, sweat dripping off me, darting my eyes to the walls of the temple while a dude with a microphone spoke at me in Thai.  Not what I had envisioned for my first expedition to a Buddhist temple in glorious Thailand.  Perhaps I’ll get a second chance, there are tonnes of temples around here and, if I’m lucky, the neighbouring monks won’t discuss the weird sweaty cross eyed farang.

On Monday morning I woke up with aching calves and made my way to the school for my first day flying solo.  We’re in between terms here so the school is conducting ‘Summer School’ for the kids whose parents have chosen to enroll.  We’re building up to Hallowe’en, a holiday the Thai people generally don’t celebrate, so there’s a bit of a role reversal going on at the moment whereby the kids are stunned by the teachers’ excitement at something which seems to make no sense whatsoever.  The teacher’s room is awash with paper witches hats, hand print ghosts, pumpkin collages and the sounds of footsteps practising the choreography being proposed to the students in the final week.  Let’s see what they make of Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’!  I’m not sure whether they’ll be on board with the ghosts and goblins we’re pimping but I have no doubt the 'trick or treat' party sweets will go down a storm.  Kids don’t care why they’re getting sweets, so we can have our fun and they’ll get sugar – everybody wins…except the parents who’ll be collecting little ghouls hopped up on M&Ms come 3pm.

Monday ended with a glowing pride having survived my first day of unescorted teaching so I heartily skipped out to the smoothie man’s cart.  I’ve told you all about this dude before, he makes the best smoothies in Nakhon Sawan and it’s evident by the queue lined up nightly at his cart.  A lovely refreshing end to a refreshing first day.  I may have no idea what I’m doing but it certainly beats the hell out of knowing absolutely every move I am about to make, which is how I found myself living back in the UK.  The door to uncertainty is more exciting and liberating than I had thought.  BRING IT ON!

Images: Sinéad Millea