Post 352:Hua Hin, Thailand

Hua Hin was Thailand’s first real ‘Beach Resort’ but with the emergence of Phuket, and the islands of Samui and Chang etc., it seems to have almost dropped from the tourist radar. Nestled on the Gulf of Thailand about 300 km South West of Bangkok, for some reason Hua Hin was a place that I‘d never visited. Maybe being so close to Bangkok I’d always assumed that Hua Hin would be similar to Pattaya, and that’s certainly not a recommendation. Anyway, I figured that as I was so close then it would be rude not to drop in and find out for myself. I’d intended to start my travels in the South of Thailand but with major flooding I didn’t want to become another well meaning tourist getting in the way of the relief efforts. So, looking at my map I decided that Hua Hin would be the most southerly point on this journey and with bike rental in Bangkok being so rare and expensive, I decided to take the train.

It’s a three-hour journey and a 2nd class non-air conditioned ticket will cost you little more than the coins in the bottom of your pocket. It’s a little chaotic but once you understand the system then buying the ticket and boarding the right train is really quite easy. Because this is Thailand, the train journey will probably take an hour longer than the timetable suggested, but by the time that you arrive in Hua Hin you’ll be ready for the holiday. Trains in SE Asia are fun, but relaxing they are not.

Hua Hin railway station is noted for it’s architecture and it really is quite beautiful in a very chocolate-box sort of way. It’s busy but in a very relaxed and laid-back sort of way and a great entry point into the town itself. The first impression is that Hua Hin is about as far removed from the flesh-pot flea-pit of Pattaya as you could possibly imagine and while I’m sure that there is a seedier side to the resort, it is definitely nice and discreet. The town itself is a huge market place that bustles along without the chaos or intimidation of the more tourist orientated towns and that gives it a certain charm and family friendliness that keeps you constantly smiling. It’s not intimidating at all and walking the gentle streets or riding scooters around the area is an absolute breeze. Hotels in the town are plentiful and can accommodate most budgets. In the centre of town I find a small hotel with air-conditioning and a balcony for around 800 Baht, $10 per night. It’s clean, it’s friendly and as with most hotels the restaurant is probably quite abysmal but as this is Thailand you’ll probably be eating out on the streets anyway. The beaches however are perhaps not as free and inviting as those that you’ll find on many of the islands and those that have not already been taken over by the larger Hotels tend to by slightly more ’Industrial’ in nature. Another immediate thing that you’ll notice is a lot of Thai’s enjoying the beach, something that you don’t often find in the higher end tourist areas and for me, I always take that as a good sign.

In and around Hua Hin there isn’t the richness of temples and monasteries that you’ll find in other parts, but there is certainly enough culture and splendour to keep you entertained for a few days when you grow bored with lazing on the beach. The resort itself is spread along the coastline and unless you’re familiar with it, then local transport systems can be a little confusing. On the plus side, renting motorcycles and scooters is easy and a Honda Scoopy will cost around 200 Baht for a day, possibly including insurance but you never can tell, … this is Thailand after all. If you rent from outside of your hotel then you’ll need to leave your passport as security but in Thailand this is the norm and nothing to be too concerned about. If you’re going to be travelling away from Hua Hin on the bike then take photocopies of the passport, photo page and visa page, as these will be required for checking into other hotels during your stay. The people renting the bike to you will be able to provide you with the copies that you need. Although you’ll see many tourists and locals riding without safety helmets, don’t be tempted to do this yourself. The police will stop you and although the fine is quite small, it’s a pain in arse as far as administration is concerned. Anyway, Thai hospitals might be good, but you really don’t need to find that out for yourself.

The night markets in Hua Hin are busy and the food that’s served there is absolutely amazing. There are restaurants that serve ‘Western Menus’, but if you want to eat chips with everything then why the hell did you venture anywhere beyond Belgium? Don’t be afraid to try different local dishes and if you’re worried about the famous heat of Thai cuisine, then just ask the chef or waiter if it’s spicy … “Phet mai?”. The Thai answer will usually be a smiling “nid-noi”, but don’t worry, they want you to come back and eat there again so they wont try to force anything too hot or unidentifiable on you. Just try everything that you can and you might even surprise yourself.

After a short stay in Hua Hin, I decided that I was suitably relaxed and it was time to head back to Bangkok. The train was an option, but you can only have so much fun in one lifetime and I decided to take a seat in a more relaxing Mini-Van. It costs almost $5 for the 3 hour journey, but unlike the train you’re guaranteed a seat. Hundreds of these white Toyota Mini-Vans run daily between Bangkok and the major resorts and you simply buy a ticket and jump on the next available seat. It’s usually an experience but there are some experiences that I never want to repeat.

I’m against the use of child labour, especially when the child in question is driving my bus. He was clearly old enough to be driving but he looked no more than 12 and drove his Toyota accordingly. All twelve passengers sat white knuckled clinging to their seats and gasping at his antics. Weaving, speeding, changing lanes without warning, undertaking and overtaking. I was the only Westerner and the Thai’s are too dammed polite to say anything, so I told him to slow down … and he ignored me.

A screech of brakes and the continuous hoot of a horn from the latest cut-up car in the fast lane behind. A red BMW with an ’M3’ badge for show. The driver wasn’t impressed and forced the Mini-Van across to the hard shoulder where the youthful driver reluctantly stopped. The BMW driver was clearly an unhappy man and removed the Mini-Van driver from his seat through a barely open door. If the BMW driver was going to thump him, then it would be no more than the bus driver deserved, but when he opened his boot and pulled out a handgun …. the situation changed slightly.

The villain had become the underdog and while the Thai’s in the Mini-Van suddenly found things of amazing interest in their magazines, I donned the blue peace-keeping beret and harmony was quickly restored. I’ve no idea if the gun was real or loaded, but I guessed that the BMW driver was very unlikely to shoot me at the edge of a major highway …… I’m British don’t you know .. mai pen rai kap

Post 351: The Golden Mount .. Bangkok

The Golden Mount in Bangkok, or to give its full title, “The Golden Mount & Wat Srakesa Rajavaramahvihara” stands at the highest point in the city. As Bangkok is about as flat as Lincolnshire that really doesn’t say a great deal, but I’d always assumed that the peak was a natural feature. I had no reason to believe that it wasn't natural, it’s massive and obviously arrived here long before diesel engines and JCB’s. But it’s not, it’s actually man made, every last inch of it.

The temple complex at the bottom dates back to King Rama I and the foundation of Bangkok as Thailand’s new capital city in around 1782 (Thai year of 2325). During the 19th century King Rama III made several attempts at building a large Chedi structure on the site but because of the softness of the underlying earth, each attempt had failed and the partly constructed Chedi had collapsed. In desperation Rama III had ordered that a mount ’this big’ be built using mud and bricks to support the proposed Chedi. It seems that back in those days what Thai King’s wanted Thai Kings got, because as hills go this one is really quite substantial. In the end, the tall golden Chedi wasn’t added until the early part of the 20th century so I guess it’s safe to say that even the demands of supreme rulers can take time to complete.

The Chedi is the golden cone that sits on top of the mount and are often referred to as a ’Stupa’. There might actually be a difference between a Chedi and a Supa, but aside from geographical terminology, I’m really not aware of any. It seems that if the sturcture is shaped like your little finger, then it's a Chedi and if shaped more like your thinb, then it's a Supa. Chedi and Stupa, of which there are more than two hundred thousand dotted around the world, are all supposed to house 'Relics of The Buddha', usually a part of Buddha’s cremation ashes and are therefore places of pilgrimage. The Chedi on top of The Golden Mount contains relics that were donated to King Rama V by the British, and we no doubt stole them from India or Sri Lanka. It does make you think though ... if there was only one Buddha but there are two hundred thousand Chedi?

The best time to visit The Golden Mount is probably during the festival of Loy Krathong which takes place around the third weeks of November. The whole Mount is draped in red cloth and thousands of people join candle light processions walking the 318 steps to the summit. Loy Krathong is principally a religious festival, but don't let that put you off because as with all festivals in Thailand, they’re never without a decent party.

When I first climbed the Mount back in 1987 (ish) the view from the top was quite different. Back in those days all that you could see was smog, lots of it, thick and unlovely. There were very few high rise buildings to compete with the Mount back then, but it didn’t really matter because you couldn’t see anything anyway. Since then, although traffic density has probably increased ten-fold, most of the commercial vehicles now run on cleaner LPG and the air in Bangkok is actually quite fresh and clean. The fragrance on the Mount can be quite amazing with scent from the blossoms and incense filling the air and leaving a lasting impression. It seems that not too many Western tourists visit this place and that’s a shame. Maybe the fact that it’s a working monastery puts people off coming here, or maybe it’s the 318 steps? Whatever the reason, it certainly isn’t the entry price. Thai of not Thai, it costs just 10 Baht ( 10 pence ) to visit the Chedi so if you do manage to make it up all of those steps, please place a one hundred Baht note in the donation box in order to ensure that sites like this remain accessible to those who could simply not afford to pay any more.

One word of caution though, The Golden Mount is just a stones throw from The Grand Palace, and it seems that the 'Tuk Tuk Mafia' are becoming even more brazen in their attempts to fleece the unsuspecting tourist. If anybody ever tells you that The Golden Mount or The Grand Palace are closed for 'Special Prayers' or a 'Royal Visit' during daylight hours then ignore them, because it’s generally utter bollocks. They’ll offer, for a small fee, to take you on a tour of local attractions and upon your return, the Mount or Palace will be open to tourists once again. Their 'Tour' will inevitably include a visit to a Gem Store and a Tailor, the owners of which will probably show a remarkable resemblance to the person who told you that it was closed in the first place …. Mai pen rai kap

http://www.justgiving.com/geoffgthomas

Post 350 Going pots in Siam

About 10 miles east of Korat in Central Thailand, is the district of Dan Kwian. For longer than anybody has cared to write things down, Dan Kwian has been Thailand’s centre for the production of pottery and ceramics. It’s not really signposted, but then maybe it is but the signs might all be written in Thai and unless the sign reads ‘Beer’ or ‘Puncture Fix’ then I’m just a little bit clueless. It’s easy enough to find, just head towards Udon Thani on the main road and all of a sudden the roadside markets stalls will change. You’ve now reached Dan Kwian. For a distance of around 2 miles both sides of the main road are saturated with ceramic outlets of every size. Don’t be fooled or put off by the bling fairgroundesque offerings that are displayed at the roadside. The garish stuff is only there to provide colour to draw in the passing traffic and the good stuff is hidden away behind it.

Pots and vases of every size and shape are produced on site by artisans using local clay. They tend to be family run small businesses with different members of each family learning a different skill necessary for producing the end product. Some outlets have their own turtleback kilns that are fired once a week, seemingly always operated by the men of the family. That’s probably not because the men are any more skilled than the women, but if they’re only working one day a week then it gives them more time for general idleness and drinking, which can often be the Thai way.

If you can discover the right outlet, and find out who is in charge, then they’ll produce absolutely anything to your own specification. If you don’t have your own specification, then show them a picture of Clarice Cliff, Joy Navastie, Moorcroft or even Troika and a week later, it‘s yours. Personally I love the big vases and urns that they produce here, but it’s a question of how to get them home and then finding a home to actually put them in. The other thing of course is the price. A one metre tall vase will cost around 800 Thai Baht or $20 for a single piece ….. and around half of that if your buying in quantity. There’s got to be a new business in there somewhere for me … mai pen rai kap

http://www.justgiving.com/geoffgthomas

Post 349: Bankers & Bushido ....

First came the earthquake, level ‘9’ on the Richter Scale. That’s ten times stronger than an ’8’ and a hundred times stronger than a destructive ‘7’. Ten minutes later came the 30M tall, 400kph wave. It wiped away everything in its path and engulfed the nuclear power station at Fukushima. Fusion reactors operate at amazingly high temperatures and the force of the wave took out the primary and secondary power supplies to the cooling pumps. The fuel rods overheated, the pressure built up, the walls of the reactor houses eventually exploded and Japan declared a state of emergency on three separate fronts.

With radiation levels rising and every attempt to resurrect the aging water pumps failing, a small group of nuclear engineers held up their hands and volunteered to continue working in close proximity to the deadly reactors. I believe that there are nineteen of these brave souls and given that they already worked in the Fukushima plant, then I assume that they’ve already lost homes and loved ones to the earthquake and tsunami. These brave nineteen are fully aware that what they are doing today will inevitably result in early and painful deaths for all of them. In order to save their fellow citizens from the toxic mess, that without their efforts would undoubtedly be far worse than it already is, these amazing average-income employees are making the ultimate sacrifice. Never before has so much been owed by so many to so few.

The last case of toxic mess was the banking crisis, but in that fiasco there was a distinct lack of Bushido. The bankers who created that disaster off-loaded the toxic debt onto all of us citizens, collected their bonuses and saved their own souls. Never before has so much been owed to so many by so few. At this moment in time those responsible for the international financial crisis should be hanging their heads in shame, but unfortunately they’re not. No sooner had the tsunami hit the shores of Japan than the bankers were short selling Japanese stocks and making a very different kind of killing. If there was ever a referendum on the introduction of a law against ’Financial Genocide’ then I know exactly where I’d be making my ’X’.

www.justgiving.com/geoffgthomas

Post 348: Nature is unstoppable ... it's in it's nature

On Sunday the 26th of December, I remember sitting safely at home and watching events unfold on television. In the early hours of that Boxing Day morning, a powerful earthquake centred in the Indian Ocean off the west coast of Indonesia brought a new word to the vocabulary of many Westerners ... ‘Tsunami’. Shocking as it was, the true scale of that disaster was not known for days and I doubt that even today it is fully understood. From the tourists on the resort island of Phuket we saw movies of first the vanishing Ocean and then the building of the inevitable wave, the Tsunami. Within hours, News Teams from around the world were on the ground and sending us footage of the disaster. Phuket, western Indonesia, Sri Lanka and the east coast of India were devastated and more than a hundred thousand people were killed. The longest coastline in that region, and directly in the path of the tsunami, was Myanmar. Myanmar was, and is, a virtually closed state and the true extent of what happened there we will probably never know.

The tsunami that hit Japan on Tuesday was probably of a similar size, but for the very first time we were able to witness in real time the truly destructive force. Cars, boats, aeroplanes and buildings were seen being picked up like children’s toys and swept miles inland by the wave. Anybody watching it, and I suspect that most of us were, must have been touched by its awesome and unstoppable power.

If humans have been on this earth for a couple of hundred thousand years, then in the last two hundred years we’ve developed beyond all recognition. We’re the smartest things ever to have inhabited this planet, possibly any planet, and we kid ourselves that we’re in control of our own destiny. We laugh at ancient civilizations who worshipped the Sun and the Elements and claim that we understand science and that makes us somehow smarter than our ancestors. If the tsunami that hit Japan shows us one thing, then it’s that we’re absolutely insignificant, we’re just ants who can drive cars ..... full of bullshit and hubris.

If the lifespan of this planet is represented by the length of the M1 Motorway, then Man’s entire existence on this planet would be a the width of a pussy hair on a single cats-eye in time. We're not even a dime in Bill Gates' pocket. If we’re really as smart as we’d like to think we are, then we’d learn to work with and around the unstoppable force of nature and never try to fight against it. Man can fight wars with himself but he can’t win a fight against nature and entropy ..... never could and never will. The Mayan and Aztec people seemed to be aware of the Pacific Ring of Fire, but they didn't build cities around it's edge. What happened in Japan was a natural event .... but Man made it a distater.

I don't do prayers ... but my thoughts are with those affected by the tsunami across Japan

www.justgiving.com/geoffgthomas

Post 347: Entering the future

Seasonally typical cold and rain, a ride down to the Ace Cafe’s ‘Adventure Travel Day’ was probably the final straw. A simple reminder that we only have one life and we’ve absolutely no idea how limited it might be. Petrol heading towards £1.50 per litre .... £25.00 and the Tiger still isn’t full. Back at what I jokingly call ‘home’, I’m sharing space with folks who prove the case in favour of crime and idleness. I called this place ‘temporary’, but it’s time to define ‘temporary’. I need to review my relationship with these brick walls and bars .... Review complete .... it’s time to bugger-off.

I have a plan. Over the last week I’ve taken some guidance on the last rewrite of ‘The Book’. Ignoring friends who will always say that it’s good, the initial feedback from independent sources is a hell of a lot better than I expected. It’s like they were talking about somebody else’s words. It seems that at last I’ve got it about right .... so all I need to do is finish the rewriting and editing. Easier said than written. Concentration is difficult when all of the distractions are negative ..... so it’s time to change the scenery.

First stop is the US Embassy ... or more accurately their website. It makes for satisfying reading. I should qualify for a 6-month tourist visa and even better ...... it’s free. The process seems simple: Telephone for an interview, complete the application form, pop down to Grosvenor Square for the interview and by the end of the week I’ll have the visa stamped in my passport. The plan is to fly over to California in May and then hang-out until September (ish).

I called to make the appointment. It was a strange number .... with a very long introductory message and a full directory of options. One option was missing .... ‘’press 9 if you think that £1.20 per minute is a rip-off’’. After 11 minutes they asked for my credit card details. ‘’Why do you need my credit card details for a free visa?’’ ...... ‘’Because the appointment costs $140’’ is the reply. Maybe it’s time to redefine the word ‘Free’? The website tells me that the current waiting time for visa interviews is 3 days ....... but I must be special .... because I have to wait 13 days. I follow the website link and complete the electronic application form, gather the necessary documents ...... and wait 13 days.


Of course it’s raining. But it’s not a problem. I park the Tiger, store the waterproof suit in the topbox and wander over to Grosvenor Square. Three checkpoints before you enter the embassy. At the first, they inform me that the application form that I completed is the old version, DS157. I ought to have completed DS160. It’s not a problem and with a Disney smile, she sends me down the road to Gould’s Pharmacy where they’ve set up an impromptu internet cafe with a host of smiling helpers and a very busy cashier. It’s a deficit busting £6 for 30 minutes on one of their 12 laptops and an extra £10 for the taking and loading of electronic photos. I would have used my own laptop, but the US Embassy instructions are quite specific .... don’t bring any electronics with you .. no camera, no phone and no laptop. I wait in the queue, behind every person who was ahead of me in the Embassy queue and wait for a laptop to become free. 29 minutes and 13 seconds ... I finish just before my 30 minutes expires .. but the others are not so lucky and are now another £6 poorer. Gould's Pharmacy, 37 North Audley Street W1 must surely be the UK's most profitable chemist ... but for all of the wrong reasons

Back at the Embassy, they don’t like my crash helmet, my motorbike keys, my armoured jacket or my MX boots. Eventually, I walk in half naked and carrying a small pile of ‘Cloakroom Receipts’, but at least I’m in. My number’s called. I hand over my documents and take a seat. It takes a while, but eventually I’m called for the interview. Why? How long? Will you be working? Will you be returning to the UK? It takes about ten minutes but the girl with the smile says ‘Yes’, visa granted. I now have to pay a courier company to deliver the Passport to my home ..... not optional. A free visa, excluding travel costs, has cost me almost $200. It’s actually fair value for money .... but wouldn’t it be a lot nicer if they simply charged $100 for the visa and did everything else above the counter?




Now .... I wait. The US Visa will take 5-7 working days to be issued and then delivered by courier the following day. Hopefully that will be the 9th of March. Any longer and I'm slightly screwed. I’ve got 2 months before I’m due to arrive in California, and I don’t plan on spending those two months in high rental misery. I’ve burned my bridges, given notice on my ‘Room’ and I’m out of here before the 22nd of March. I've arranged a meeting in Abu Dhabi on the 22nd of March and then a provisional appointment with a certain motorcycle factory in Thailand. It's a factory that I was meant to visit last year, but my Thai being a little too limited, I ended up touring a factory making nothing more exciting than electronic ignition units. Anyway ..... if anybody is interested in acquiring the cuteness of a Super-Cub with a classy touch of modernity, then be sure to let me know.

That all sounds very 'Playboy' but it really isn't like that at all. When most people travel they think about 'Holidays' .... and they tend to be expensive. I can’t afford to do it that way, so I don’t. Before I eat or wipe my arse with tissue paper, living in Blighty costs a minimum of £600 per month. That’s approximately 30,000 Thai Baht. A teacher in Thailand is considered to be middle-class and will earn 15,000 Thai Baht per month. I can’t live quite as cheaply as a local .. but I have enough friends out there to make it a lot cheaper ... and more fun .. than staying in England.

www.justgiving.com/geoffgthomas

Post 346 ...... the greatest biking roads in the world ...

If you don’t like the crowds or the cold, then you could always head south into Croatia. The beautifully surfaced E65 hugs the Dalmatian Coast all of the way from Rijeka in the North to Dubrovnik in the South. It would make the perfect opening scenes for a Bond movie ... it’s California 1 without the traffic .... a few hundred miles of riding bliss and my favourite road in Europe.

Continuing on the theme of E-Numbers .... the E75 in Macedonia is well worth a mention. As a motorway, it shouldn’t get a sniff at the best biking roads in the world, but the E75 is a motorway like no other. The part that I love is a toll road that’ll cost you the grand sum of £0:40 to ride on it .... but it’s an investment not a cost. It’s not the smoothest tarmac in the world, but it’s quite possibly the fastest. It clings to the side of mountains that I couldn’t name, South bound on one side of the mountains and North bound on the other. It’s never straight and it’s never slow, it’s a public racetrack without the public. I don’t know how long the road is but the only other vehicle that I passed was a police car .... fortunately it was a Lada

From the North of Scotland to the Southern tip of Europe, there are some absolutely amazing biking roads. But let’s be totally honest, there are an awful lot of crappy roads that stand in between them. When it comes to high density biking heaven ... there’s really only one place to go .... Northern California.

Ok ...when it comes to biking roads you might think that I’m slightly biased towards Northern California .. but that’s only because I’m right. I can think of no other place on earth where there’s such a density of amazing roads. Add to that a year-round climate that encourages riding and you’ve got biking utopia.

My favourite stretch of the Pacific Coast Highway, California 1, runs from Legget down to Mendocino Beach. At Mendocino Beach, take time to wander around a wild beach strewn with the skeletons of ancient redwoods. Camp there, build a fire, drink some local wine, roll up a smoke and make merry.....

From Mendocino Beach, turn inland on the ‘128’ through the giant redwoods to Boonville. The perfectly surfaced road twists its way through the trees, riding in darkness with perfectly clear blue skies above. From Boonville turn West onto Mount View Road twisting back to the coast and then head south again.

At the hamlet of Stewarts Point turn East onto Skraggs Springs Road and let the fun begin. The first fifteen miles is pleasant and relaxing ...... the second fifteen is awesome and intense. Climbing and dropping .... always turning. The view is probably spectacular but if you’ve got time to take it in then you’re either not riding a bike or your mid-way through crashing. As you finally pass Sanoma Lake, turn around and repeat as often as time allows ...... It really is for me, the best technical biking road in the world.

http://www.justgiving.com/geoffgthomas

Post 345: The best biking roads in the world .....

.... “Then into first gear, forgetting the cars and letting the beast wind out . . . thirty-five, forty-five . . . then into second and wailing through the lights at Lincoln Way, not worried about green or red signals, but only some other werewolf loony who might be pulling out, too slowly, to start his own run. Not many of these . . . and with three lanes in a wide curve, a bike coming hard has plenty of room to get around almost anything . . . then into third, the boomer gear, pushing seventy-five and the beginning of a windscream in the ears, a pressure on the eyeballs like diving into water off a high board” ....

Hunter S. Thompson loved the Pacific Coast Highway, specifically the part running from Golden Gate Park down to Pacifica and beyond. If you’re going to have a favourite road then ‘California 1’ isn’t a bad one to choose. If on that particular night I’d been riding Thompson’s motorbike, and with the same cocktail of chemicals streaming through my veins, then maybe ‘California 1’ would be my favourite road too. But I wasn’t .... and it’s not. It’s certainly in my all time top ten, but like my list of fantasy dates, it’s a league table that’s constantly changing.


So .... which is the best biking road in the world? The question can’t really have a definitive answer, only a range of opinions. Every biker has an opinion and every one of those opinions is right. Too many variables .... too subjective.

I was raised on the Durham- Yorkshire borders and my biking playground was vast. Long before the Yorkshire Constabulary discovered fast pursuit vehicles and ANPR cameras, I discovered the B1257, the now famous Chop Gate Road running south from Stokesley to Helmsley. At the time I thought that it must be the best biking road in the world ..... but as a spotty teenager my world was still very small.

As my wings spread, I discovered more roads of distinction: The Stang running from Barnard Castle towards Tan Hill and over in the Lake District, the passes of Hardknott and Wrynose. Moving into Scotland, the Pass of Cattle to Applecross and my favourite road in the UK ..... the A816 from Arduaine to Oban.

You might think that these choices show a bias towards the North ... and maybe you’re right. On the other hand .... maybe the best roads just happen to be up here.


Into Europe .... take your pick. More great roads to choose form than you’ll have lives to ride them. The B500 in the heart of the Black Forest, the Pass de Stelvio or my favourite of all the passes, the Pass de Giovo. In Romania, the Transfagrasan Highway is everything that Top Gear told you ... and then some. Just look at the photos .... there’s 90 Km of it.

If you don’t like the crowds or the cold, then head south into Croatia. The beautifully surfaced E65 hugs the Dalmatian Coast from Rijeka in the North to Dubrovnik in the South. A few hundred miles of biking bliss, California 1 without the traffic and restrictive rules.

http://www.justgiving.com/geoffgthomas

Post 343: Coincidence ....

............ “We are the boys and girls well known as ... Minors of the ABC .. and every Saturday we line up, to see the films we like and shout aloud with glee”

For some strange reason, I woke up this morning with that song ringing in my head. It’s been almost 40 years since I visited the Saturday Morning Cinema Show at the ABC in Darlington but I remembered every single word. Busty usherettes with tubs of half melted vanilla, Flash Gordon in mortal battle with the Mighty Ming, Little Rascals being little rascals and the masked Zoro leaving his tag on everything that wasn’t female. Those were the days. Admission was always thrupence but when it rocketed to a tanner, my Saturday morning cinematic adventures came to an end.



An hour into my Sunday morning, I logged onto the interactive thief of time that is Facebook. With the ABC song on constant replay in my mind, a message from a friend had me scrolling through this blog back to the early days of Poor Circulation. It was a walk down memory lane, different memories from different lives. An hour past and a second followed. I was reading the long abandoned first chapter of the slowest book in history. It was the part where a good and recently departed friend had handed me a copy of Jupiter’s Travels along with the warning that it would change my life. That friend was Steve Corby, more commonly known as ‘Beef’, and his prediction had eventually come true.

Happy memories of time spent in the company of Beef; Bike Rallies, Bars and Parties. It was more than enough to banish ‘ABC’ from my mind. The ‘Tab’ on internet explorer was winking. I clicked tab and returned to Facebook. A dialogue box was flashing at the bottom of the page. “Hey ... how are you?”. It was an old friend, a guy I hadn’t spoken to for at least twenty-five years. His name is Dave, Dave Corby, younger brother of Beef. We talked for thirty minutes, thirty quality minutes.

After that conversation with Dave Corby, I opened a dusty old word document ...... and started writing ................

http://www.justgiving.com/geoffgthomas

Post 342: Homeward Bound .....

Leaving Nong Khai was easy ... take Highway 2 and keep heading south. After 6 or 7 hours you’re still moving south, but after 8 or 9 hours you should finally arrive at Mon Chit Bus Station in Bangkok. The timetable says that it’s an air-conditioned 6 hour journey but as this is Thailand, the reality is always somewhat different. Any sensible person would probably fly, but with a story yet to be sold and a bus ticket costing less than £5 .... ‘sensible’ wasn’t really an option.

Bangkok is a crazy kind of city that gets under your skin. It’s a strange place where East meets Chaos and every day is a whole new adventure. Coming over all ‘Fatherly’, I felt the unusual urge to do some Christmas shopping ..... but after 30 minutes on Khao San Road that slight urge had turned to a major aversion. I abandoned the chaos of the market, grabbed a beer and chuckled at the dreadlocked back-packers marching up and down the soi looking for cheap accommodation and an honest translation of their recently acquire ethnic tattoos. Why do they do it? ..... Ten drunken minutes in a back-street tattoo parlour and a lifetime of ‘I Kiss Sheep’ written bold on their arms .. mai pen rai

I sought sanctuary at Wat Po, the non-Disney version of Bangkok’s Grand Palace. The economic downturn is impacting on the entire world, and it seems that everybody blames somebody else. David Cameron blames Gordon Brown, Gordon Brown blames the USA and Fox News blames anybody who didn’t vote Republican. Here in Thailand I’ve no idea who they blame .. but I get the feeling that it might be ‘anybody else but us’ .... mai pen rai



After cleansing my soul and avoiding the nasty foreign pickpocket gangs at Wat Po, I took the overcrowded ferry down the Chao Phraya and a walk through the exclusive shopping district. The Red Shirt protestors have long since gone and the barricades removed. Life has returned to weird and wonderful normality. Siam Paragon is open for business, the Gucci shop is selling its £200 handbags and the little stall outside is selling passable copies for less than a fiver. The Thai authorities are clamping down on the sale of counterfeit goods, but everywhere you go you can hear the distinctive sound of blind eyes being turned and improvised cash registers ringing.


Four movies and an obscene quantity for free booze later, I arrived back at Heathrow. It was snowing .... and maybe that’s why it actually felt good to be back ...........

http://www.justgiving.com/geoffgthomas