My wife and I had just left the island of Koh Phi Phi in Thailand 10 days before the tsuanmi hit. Four years later, just as we were about to board a plane to Mae Hong Son, near the Burmese border, we learned that flights were cancelled as a result of a hurricane which devastated the region. I think that the next time we visit Thailand, I'll give advance warning to the government as well as aid organisations as to the probability of a pending catastrophe.

Three days in Bangkok was just enough time to acclimatise ourselves and to meet up with my sister-in-law, Mairead, and her boyfriend, John. Both have just moved to Thailand to work as English teachers. We spent three lovely lazy days, in a beautiful green guesthouse, called Phranakorn Norlen, which I highly recommend if you decide to visit the city of angels.

Next stop after Bangkok was Chiang Mai, the capital of the north. There we spent time visiting the various temples, as well as the numerous local restaurants. One of our days was spent in the company of a charming and hilarious Thai chef. We had signed up for a days cooking class, where we learned the secrets of sweet sticky rice, Tom-Yum (hot and spicy seafood soup) and how to recognise which eggs are fresher and tastier when shopping (the small are better than the big ones, in case you didn't already know). Chiang Mai is undoubtedly the town where we had the best food and in a country obsessed by food, that's saying a lot. One of the mysteries of Thailand, is how the people who seem to eat constantly, remain as slim and trim as their cows (the cows could do with a bit of good Kerry grass to fatten them up).

To get back to our itinerary, after "The city of Angels" and the "Rose of the North", we took a plane straight to the islands in the Gulf of Thailand. Koh Phangan is an idyllic setting, best known for its Full Moon Party, a 2 day rave party, reminiscient of an asian Goa. After having quickly escaped the beaches of the south, we headed to Haad yao, a tranquil bay, scattered with small beach bars, offering a variety of fresh juices and alcohol to rehydrate the sun drenched tourists. In one such bar, we met Pan, a waiter from Laos. Pan is a real ambassador for his country. He greets all passers-by with a smile and is always happy to spend time getting to know the tourists, to introduce them to others and, not least of all, to sell them top quality grass.

The King of Thailand is revered by his people. He is treated as a living god. Disrespecting the king in public could result in a prison sentence. The country is, however, run by a constitional monarchy, in which the king only has limited power. This is held by the army, who, like in Turkey, allow the democtratically elected government to rule, so long as they consider that their interests are not in jeopardy - that is to say that there is respect for the army and the monarchy, the islamists in the south are dealt with, there is no international allignment). Indisputedly, one of the funniest moments of the trip, was during a conversation between Pan and an English Tourist. The latter, embarking on the subject of the monarchy, began by referring to the King as "The very well respected King of Thailand..". Pan interrupted quickly, saying "Don't care. Not my King!", which set everyone off into hysterics.
Pan continued by explaining that the King of Thailand often spends his holidays in Laos. Tired of the constant bowing and scraping on the part of his subjects, he escapes to Laos, where he is free to ride around on a motorbike, without the attention he gets at home. You see, even being considered a god can get tiresome....

On our third day in Koh Phangan we were plunged into darkness by a tropical storm. The electricity was cut throughout the island for over 12 hours. As we had nothing but a cigarette lighter and a mobile phone, I went to the neighbouring bungalow to ask to borrow some candles. There, I met a middle-aged English man, who was fairly out of it. He was accompanied by Vladimir, a hirsute Russian, with crazy eyes, who seemed to spend his time smoking joints and extolling the pleasures of levitation in very broken English. Other favourite subjects of his included the orgies at the local yoga training centre as well as the beauty of Russian poetry.
This famous Vladimir turned out to be an opera singer, who'd decided to visit Thailand to have his breakdown in peace and quiet. The man never slept, rarely ate and was considered by his English friend, to be a kind of genius who'd graced us with his presence. Every morning, we ate breakfast on the beach to the dulcet tones of Vladimir, tuning up his vocal chords after his third or fourth joint of the day.

I have to say that I could have easily stayed longer in his paradise. I had my guitar, a great book and an excellent hammock, with a view on the sea. Who needs more?
And what about music during this trip? Il have to admit that the majority of the time, we were subjected to international dance "hits", or else a local variety of the same. There was, however, one artist, who followed(haunted?) us during the trip: Jack Johnson. He is, I believe, largely overestimated, but not bad. His music works just as well in occidental elevators as it does on tropical islands. And thanks to the Thais, his music was has become the soundtrack to a wonderful holiday