So much hoo-ha about a drink?

Outlook has a long article on drinking and bars in India, and how the drinks culture has spread and changed in India over the past two liberalized decades. It made me think about differences in Indian and Italian attitudes towards alcoholic drinks.

I have a feeling that the attitudes towards social drinking in India are very much influenced by British-American attitudes towards alcohol. In the article in Outlook, Anvar Alikhan gives a list of characteristics of a good drinking place:

.. what exactly makes a good bar? It’s a complex, personal issue: what a 22-year-old girl would look for would naturally be different from what a 44-year-old male would want. However, certain basic, universal requirements generally apply, such as:

- First, a good drinks menu, with a sufficiently wide selection of good drinks, poured generously.
- There should be a great bartender. He doesn’t have to be a circus juggler, but he must be good at his job, able to mix interesting, innovative cocktails.
- Probably the single most important factor is that the crowd should belong to your “tribe”. Not necessarily people you know, but the kind of people you’d like to know. That’s what gives you a sense of belonging, and makes you want to come back here next time.
- The place must be 60 per cent full. Less than that and it’s uninvitingly empty; more than that and it’s too crowded.
- The service must be efficient, anticipative and unobtrusive. You shouldn’t have to keep waving out for a waiter.
- The music must be interesting, with a mix of familiarity and slight surprise. And the volume must be just right: not so loud that you can’t figure out what your companions are trying to say.
- Great lighting can make a huge difference to any bar.
- Comfortable chairs. Un-ergonomic furniture soon becomes a pain.
- The prices can be premium, but they should never leave you with a feeling of being ripped off.
- A distinctive character, a sense of history, or even a slight eccentricity always adds something special to a bar.
- Ultimately, no bar ever attains perfection. And if it did, it probably wouldn’t be any good anymore. Some small imperfection is always interesting.

My attitudes towards bars and social drinking are obviously influenced by my living in Italy, the original bar country, where there are bars at every corner and where in some areas, small kids, especially in rural areas, get to taste few spoons of wine from a very tender age, and where there are often discussions on nutritional values of wines and local liquers.

In Italy, when people want to go to a bar, they usually go to the one closer to their homes or their work places, or on the way from the home to the work-place, especially where it is easy to find a parking. Here, people go to the bar throughout the day - in the morning for a cup of coffee and a cornetto for breakfast, for another cup of coffee around mid-morning, for a sandwich for lunch or dinner. In all these occasions, some people will also ask for wine or other drink. Some times, usually in winter, some will ask for a drop of Grappa, the Italian grape liquer, in their coffee. So I feel that the relationships with the bars are very different from the ones described above by Alikhan, it is much more familiar.

Thus even attitudes towards drinking are quite matter of fact, and I have never heard of persons talking of good bars and bad bars. May be they talk of clean or dirty bars, or, they talk of friendly and unfriendly barmen/women.

The main differences between Italian attitudes and Indian (and British) attitudes towards drinking seem to be that in Italy, most persons drink wines every day with dinner, and on weekends and holidays, also during lunch. If you are invited by friends to lunch/dinner, you will get offered invariably some light appettizer drinks, then have some good wine with food and then finally have a selection of liquers for after-dinner drinks, that will usually end with a "digestive", that is a bitter tasting liquer with some herbs in it.

In a bar, in the evening, if you are with friends, you can try some exotic looking cocktail, for some social drinking. I think that women go more for this kind of drinking.

Beer drinking is not so common in Italy. Younger people drink it more. Some times, especially on hot days, people will offer you a bottle or can of beer, or you will order beer for drinking with your pizza. But most drinking is done with food or after-food and focuses on wines. I have also not seen persons drinking umpteen bottles of beer to get drunk, like it happens in Africa.

You hardly ever mix water or or soda or even ice in the hard liquers in Italy. I have yet to meet someone here who starts his drinks every evening, before dinner, with two or three pegs of hard liquer, usually whiskey, mixed with water/soda, accompanied by some snacks, that is so ubiquitous in India.

Most important difference in the attitudes towards alcoholic drinks between Italy and India, seems to be the aura of something bad or prohibited that surrounds drinking in India, in spite of the liberalization and changing attitudes in the recent years. The peripheries of cities like Bangalore, are full of seedy looking, dirty and ill-lit drinking joints, where you "hide" to drink. While in Italy, it is more of a common pleasure of life, taken for granted, sips offered to children and to growing up adolescents much like tea in India, and at the same time, that avoids hard drinking.

I have been fortunate with drinks, because invariably the first glass of anything remotely alcoholic is enough to make me sleepy, so usually I tend to avoid drinks. Having half a glass of red wine is usually enough for me! Drnking also makes me more melancholic and introverted. For me, a good bar will be where it is not too crowded, that has no loud music so that people can talk and that does not allow smoking.

Every country has its drink-culture and probably our colonial pasts mixing up with our specific cultural backgrounds, do influence those drinking-cultures. The Mongolian way of seriouly drinking vodka on every occasion or the Caribbean way of having rum or the German love for beer, are very different from the drinking cultures in India and Italy.

However, I think that I need to remember the Indian habits towards drinking when we have guests from India. This means that I must make sure to have whiskey, soda, ice, snacks, etc. and offer it for pre-dinner drinks. I usually forget it and I don't think that our Indian guests appreciate the Italian way of having some light appettizer, wine with food and an offer of post-dinner drinks or digestives!

Usually for an evening with friends, I would prefer to be with at home. We have a good selection of liquers from different countries. This way, no body tries to insist and force me to drink anything and at the end, I usually drink some wine and may be some digestive. And, best of all, after the evening is over I can go straight to sleep!

To conclude this discussion on drinks and bars, here are some of my pictures of pubs, bars, bar-restaurants from different countries of Europe:

The two Nigerias

There are two Nigerias in my mind.

One Nigeria has a big image problem. It is the land of repressive regimes and corruption. I didn’t even want to go to Nigeria and had tried my best to get out this visit.

The list of negative things about Nigeria seems unending. Long time ago I had heard stories about corruption in Nigeria. Then I had heard about the problems between Christians and Muslims and the decisions of Shariat Islamic courts that had mobilized the public opinion in the West. In Italy, there has also been a lot of publicity about Nigerian sex workers, and every time there is some story in Italian newspapers about sex workers on the streets, they invariably talk of Nigerians. Then over past few years, all kinds of email scams are attributed to Nigerians.

Yet, there is another Nigeria in my mind. I admire Nigerian writers like Ken Saro Wiwa and Chimamanda Ngozi Adochie. Thinking of the way Yoruba cultures have survived and grown in south and central Americas, I feel that Nigerian cultures must be among the richest cultures that developed in ancient world, though I do not know much about them. I think that in present day Africa, together with South Africa and Ghana, Nigeria has the most vibrant thinkers and philosophers (though I agree that probably there is an anglophone bias there in such thoughts).
***

The first look of the green mountains and hills surrounding Abuja as the airplane was preparing to land, was very nice. The airport was small for the capital of one of the most powerful African nations, but it was nice and clean. However, I was surprised by the insistent immigration officer, wanting all details of why I had come to their country.

Getting visa for Nigeria was no easy thing. I had to fill an online form, send all kinds of proofs and letters to justify my visit to the embassy and I was told, if they wish, I will have to go to Rome to their embassy for an interview. For all this process, it needed at least one month to get the visa. All this for going there for a five days conference organised by their Government!

After such a tough process for getting a visa, I was not expecting all the questioning at the airport. After the immigration, even custom officers wanted to know why I had come to Nigeria and how long I was going to stay. It was as if Nigeria does not want any kind of tourists or curious persons to come here, and all visitors are given this message.

Getting out of the airport, there was another surprise, more pleasant one this time. There were no anxious taxi drivers trying to rip me off, running after me. The person who was supposed to pick me from the airport was no where to be seen and I had walked to the taxi stand but there were no taxis waiting there for passengers. It was another sign that tourists and visitors without connections in Nigeria are not so many.

Anyway, soon a man came to ask if I was looking for a taxi and I could come to the hotel. The city of Abuja looked very nice with greenery, wide roads and many new shining buildings. The people were very nice, courteous. Going around seemed to be completely safe. In our international meeting, there were many Nigerians and it was a pleasure to make new friends, to talk to new persons, to discover their ideas and know about their work in different parts of Nigeria. Even the lady from the north, with her head covered, who had refused to shake hands with me, was not shy to argue about her ideas.
***

First three days were busy in the meetings, though I did try to click a few pictures from the taxi, while going from one place to another. Finally on the third day, I found some time to walk near the conference centre, which was not far from the cathedral of Abuja and from where, you can have a nice view of the beautiful golden domed mosque of Abuja.

I had just clicked a couple of pictures, when a man appeared, very angry, shouting at me. "Do you have permission to take pictures? Is it possible in your country to go around and take pictures like this?"

I was surprised. I couldn’t believe that taking pictures in Nigeria could be illegal and you need a permission to take pictures! The man apparently was convinced that all countries in the world have this rule and didn’t believe me when I told that I had always taken pictures in whichever country I went. My answers made him angrier, and soon things turned serious. He will call some special police called SSP or something like that, he told me, threatening that I will be put in jail and that my ignorance of the country’s laws was no justification for the crime I had committed.

Suddenly I was a little afraid. Their special police sounded like the Nazi SS. I quickly explained to him that I was there for an important meeting, I was invited by United Nations and Government of Nigeria, that later in the day I was going to speak in front of the first lady of Nigeria. That finally stopped him. How many pictures have you taken, he asked me. Just one picture of the cathedral, I told him meekly, trying to sound sorry for this serious crime.

"OK, go back straight to your meeting, I don’t want to see you around here", he glowered. And I walked back to the meeting with my tail firmly tucked between my legs.

Later in the meeting I asked one of the security persons preparing for the visit of the first lady, if I could take her pictures. He had smiled at me, “Yes of course. You can take as many pictures as you want. And don’t stay closed inside this meeting hall, our city is beautiful, go out and see some of its beauty.” I didn’t ask him if I could take pictures of their beautiful city or if I needed to apply to someone for permission!

I think that rules prohibiting photography on the street in todays' age are stupid. If I really want, I just need to fiddle with my mobile telephone and take as many pictures as I want. People with mobile phones are everywhere, even in Nigeria and I don’t think that security men in Nigeria can check and control each of them to see if they are really talking on telephone or taking pictures. Terrorist won’t come with fancy cameras to take pictures of cathedrals and mosques from different angles.

***

The minister for Women's Affairs, Ms. Iyom Josephine Anenih came to the meeting. I was impressed with her, since she seemed to know what she was talking about and had actually listened to the persons speaking before her.

Nigeria's first lady Dame Patience Goodluck Jonathan was supposed to inaugurate the meeting but she couldn't come. After a few hours, a group of wives arrived for the inauguration, including wives of head of senate, wife of head of defence services, etc. but the first lady was not there. It was a bit surprising to hear that the first lady had been ready for hours waiting for the permission "from the Council" for coming to our meeting but she didn't get the permission!

A first lady needs to get a permission from a Council (was it an euphemism for her husband, the President?) to come to a meeting to inaugurate it?

In the evening, the Minister insisted to send her car to take us to the airport. Her car was accompanied by a police car with sirens and flashing lights. It was the first time, I was travelling like that. Needless show-offs, I had thought. However, the night traffic on the road going to the airport was terrible in many places, jam packed with cars, people eating or buying things from roadside markets. Without the Minister's car, probably we wouldn't have made it to the airport in time!
***

The ancient cultures of Nigeria, the Yoruban myths and stories, have they survived in today's Nigeria? The country seems divided among evangelical churches and islam, and I have no idea if the ancient religions have any relevance in today's Nigeria. The question came to my mind many times but I had no opportunity to ask it to someone.

***

Looking for Karl Marx

When I heard that Karl Marx's grave is in London, I was very surprised. Poor Marx. Wonder, how he feels surrounded by all the testosterone driven city yuppies the world capital of free market and globalisation.

I had reached London on 8th July afternoon. After I finished my meeting in Euston, I decided to take the underground to Archway and walk to highgate London cemetery, to take a look at old friend Marx's grave.

This time, I had decided to ignore the weather predictions on BBC. Everytime, they say it is going to rain and I carry an umbrella with me, I find a sunny London. So this time, it did decide to rain. The way to highgate rises on a steep hill, it is supposed to be the highest spot in London, so soon I was breathless and more than a little wet.

Finally when I did reach the cemetery, I found that it was closed. In spite of all their claims about London being the financial hub of the world, free markets and all, so many places continue to observe the office times, from 10 AM to 5 PM. I guess, even the cemetery workers need to go out and enjoy the long summer evenings and visiters can very well take a leave if they wish to visit their dead.

So after all my efforts, in the end I could just take a picture of the entrance of the cemetery, that has a sign that no videos and pictures can be taken inside. However, the walk back to Archway was downhill and much more easier, and it was not raining anymore.

I took the underground to Leicester square, where I was supposed to change to the Piccadilly line. In spite of the cold and wind, it was too early to go back to the hotel, so I decided to walk around Leicester square. The London rickshaws with Savanna ads painted over them, outside the Leicester underground station, looked kind of cute.

However, like the Highgate cemetery, even in Leicester square, teeming with tourists, the park in the middle of the square was already closed. With the summer and the sunlight till 9 PM, it seems funny that parks are closed when people come out of the offices. In the park, I could see a small black that looked like Charlie Chaplin, so I decided to take a picture of the park with the zoom.

Then, I walked over to the Trafalgar square. The fourth statueless plinth in Trafalgar square is hosting "living sculptures" by Antony Gormley these days. The concept of this initiative is interesting. Starting from 6 July, a new person will get a place for one hour on the plinth to be a living sculpture and persons will keep on changing every day, 24 hours, till October. A total of 2400 persons are expected to participate in this very inclusive art event and anyone can apply through a website. This website also has a live webcam of the plinth.

When I arrived in Trafalgar square, a lady dressed in red was trying to set up a playing card statue, but with strong wind, the cards were refusing to stay in position and some of them flew off the plinth into the safety net and in the square.

While walking around in the square, near one of those statues sprouting water into the fountain, I heard an Indian father tell his young son in Hindi, "Beta dekho, woh baccha kulli kar raha hai" (Son, look that child is gargling).

Yuck! I didn't want to go near the kulli-water anymore.

By that time, there was some commotion near the fourth plinth. It seemed that the next participant who was supposed to go up as a living sculpture, had not arrived. Finally Sandy Nairne, director of National Portrait gallery, went up as a substitute and sat there sketching something.

From Trafalgar square, I walked towards Piccadilly, where as usual, hordes of tourists were sitting around the Mercury statue, that always reminds me of the god of love, Kamdev, from Indian mythology.

Tired from all the walking, finally I decided to go back to the hotel.

On 9th July, I had an early morning meeting with a French-Italian friend, who is married to an Indian. For our breakfast we went to a small Italian place in one of the small streets near Euston. The place had old pictures of Sorrento, but none there spoke any Italian. Perhaps the original Italian place was bought over by someone else?

I had to go to another meeting near Russel square and there was some time for that, I decided to walk, pulling my suitcase trolley behind me.

When we finished with the meeting, I thought that I could spend a couple of hours in the British museum nearby, as they are having different exhibitions and events linked to India under the Indian Summer initiative. However, the guard at the museum told me that my suitcase was too big for the cloakroom and so he couldn't allow me to enter.

Again I walked back to Euston to kill some time and then took the underground to Victoria. Since it was cloudy and windy, so walking was good fun (after a month in the buring 42 degrees of Delhi, my evident joy at clouds and wind is easy to understand, though most of my European friends are a little perplexed by it).

I still had four hours for my flight back to Italy, so decided to walk to Buckingham palace from Victoria station.

The buildings around Victoria station have a mix of old and new architecture. The golden coloured statue on the old Victoria theater looks strange against the ugly looking high rise building, but some other glass buildings made for much better contrast against the old British architecture.

Buckingham palace area was crowded with tourists. It must be weak British pound that has brought back tourists from all over to UK.

Finally it was the time to take the train back to Gatwick airport but I was quite satisfied by my walking initiatives.

There was a time, when I hardly saw anything in the cities I visited for work. I have been to so many countries and cities, where I saw just the airports and the hotels. But I like my new me, the one who decides to walk, to get lost, to talk to people and to get a feel for the people and the cities. It is more tiring and but also so relaxing!

And, I love clicking with my digital camera. So that I may not spend a lot of time walking around as a tourist, but then I can look at the pictures back home and try to see things that I didn't have time to stop and admire.

Olives and Cypresses

A few days ago we were watching the new Bond film, Quantum of Solace. I didn’t like the film, even if the leading lady did look a little bit like Rani Mukherjee. I don’t like Denis Craig. His perpetually constipated expression somehow makes me think of ducks. But the initial car race and fight in the A1 highway between Bologna and Florence and then in the city of Siena, reminded me that we had never been to Siena. 

Why don’t we go to Siena on this weekend, I proposed. On the map it didn’t look very far. If we take highway, probably we will be there in less than two hours, I said. Often, my wife is not very receptive to such proposals. She feels that they are too tiring. But this time, she didn’t refuse outright, she only frowned and said, we shall see. So I knew, the trip was on. 

The names of certain cities are linked with colours. Like Jaipur is linked with pink. For me Siena is linked with “Burnt Siena”. Why did they call that colour “burnt Siena”, that particular shade of brown? Perhaps because of the colour of earth in around this city? or because of the colour of buildings there? I don't know.

Yesterday, sunday morning, we started from home around 9.30 AM. My wife had changed from “we shall see” to “what is the hurry? why don’t we take the Poretta-Pistoia road and see the small cities on the way?” So we decided, no highway! We shall take the normal road and go slowly, taking time to look around. 

We passed through the quaint town of Sasso Marconi, where Mr. Marconi had done his experiments with wireless telegraph more than one century ago. Then we went through Marzabotto that has a wonderful Ethruscan necropolis that we had visited last year. Up and down the road went, passing through Poretta Terme, in through deep mountain passes with snow capped mountains, towards Pistoia in the Tuscany region. 

Spring had already arrived in Tuscany with new diamond green grass that looked soft as silk. Scattered with gnarled olive trees and tall conical cypresses, Tuscany landscape has a distinctive look. On the road towards Pistoia, we stopped at a bar in Signorino (literally “unmarried man”), where a huge crowd of bikers was having picnic. Very appropriate, we thought. They all did look unmarried!

On the way from Pistoia to Empoli, we saw the indications for Vinci and decided on an impulse that it would be nice to see the birthplace of one of the most accompamplished sculture-painter-scientist of all times, Leonardo da Vinci. The small town of Vinci is on the top of a hill surrounded by the gentle landscape of Tuscany, dotted with more olives and cypresses. Right in the middle of the medieval town centre, a Leonardo square has been created with a wooden sculpture showing one of the well known figures made by him. 

I liked the Guidi square more where a contemporary Italian artist Mimmo Paladino has sculpted the whole square with shapes and images of Leonardo (picture). 

By the time we finished going around Vinci, it was already one of clock. We ate our sandwiches that we had brought from home and then decided to proceed towards Anchiano village about three kilometers away from Vinci, to look at the house where Leonardo da Vinci was born. It was difficult to immagine that a child born in such a humble faraway village would become so famous that his name will be known all over the world (in the picture, Leonardo's house). 

By the time we reached Siena, perched on the top of a hill, we were a little tired. It was already three of clock. Siena seemed to be full of tourists but we were lucky that we found a parking place almost immediately. The narrow winding streets, medieval houses, renaissance buildings, it was very beautiful. A little tired from going up and down the narrow streets, we ate an icecream and listened to a gifted street violinist. 

I had expected to see a small medieval town in the city centre, but what surprised me was the size of the old city. It is huge. I wanted to see the Piazza del Campo, the famous square where the annual Palio horse race takes place. As we walked on and on, there was no sign of this square but arrows on the streets indicated that it was further ahead. Finally when we did come to it, it was one of those “A-ha” moments that you never forget in your life. 

Coming down from narrow winding, dark medieval streets on the hills, the square is like a huge natural bowl, open space between the hills and filled with sunlight, sloping down towards the middle and surrouned by more medieval and renaissance buildings that seem handpainted canvass against the blue sky. There is a beautiful fountain in one corner of the square.

Pictures can’t capture its immensity nor the sense the wonder that fills you when you see Piazza del Campo. I had seen it so many times in pictures and films, and yet I had never realized how wonderful it is in reality. It is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. 

We are not going to spend too much time here, I told my wife. This city deserves to be seen properly and not in a hurry by tired persons! We will come back here, to spend a whole day or may be a weekend, we agreed, as we walked towards the Duomo (cathedral).

Even the Duomo is very good in Italian gothic style that reminds me of rich wedding cakes, though if you have already seen the cathedrals in Florence and Orvieto, you know what to expect.

We didn’t go inside Duomo, instead we walked back towards the parking to get our car. It was almost five o’clock. The journey back home on the highway was quick, it did take less than two hours. And we are sure, we will back in Siena to explore it better.

If you are planning a visit to Italy, do not miss Siena!

Back in Bangkok

In less than 12 months, I was back in Bangkok for the third time. Probably no other place in the world can beat Bangkok in terms of cost-benefit ratios and that can explain why so many organisations decide to hold international meetings there even if it is not easy to find persons who speak English.

I think that the factors that contribute to Bangkok being a great place for international meetings include the following - good international flight connections, easy to find cheaper flights, good infrastructures, really polite and friendly population, good food and relatively cheap hotel accomodation.

We held the meeting in a four star place called Prince Palace, right to the Bo Bae wholesale clothes market & fruit-vegetable market in a crowded and busy area of Bangkok that is close to the tourist attractions as well. The cost of double rooms including a wonderfully huge breakfast was just 36 Euros per night, that is only 1250 Rs per person per day, an amount impossible to think of even in India, forget Europe. In Italy you can't find a room for that amount even in the bare-essential places run by the nuns. The place is accessible to persons with disabilities and staff was really helpful, always ready to go an extra mile. I don't remember organising such a hassle free international meeting ever before. I mean that in terms of logistics and general issues, since no place in the world can save you from usual problems related to speakers or particiapnts that don't turn up or decide to behave like prima donnas.

***

This time there was no time for going around the tourist places but still I managed to squeeze in a morning trip to the Ayutthaya, the old capital of Thailand till about 150 years ago. If you like old ruins of Buddhist temples, visit Ayutthaya, it has wonderful atmosphere and the old temples declared as world heritage by UNESCO are unforgettable. I rented a bicycle in Ayutthaya and had a great time cycling around the city.

This trip had a small hitch. At the end of the morning, while walking back to the market to catch the minibus back to Bangkok, I decided to stop at a nice modern looking barber shop. My hair were really long and so I thought that I can get a small trimming. However, my gestures to explain what I wanted were not understood by the young lady in the shop, who smiled at me and before I could understand what was happening, I had a lawn-mower on my head. By the time I could shout and stop her, I already had an almost bald patch on the side my head.

Realising her mistake, the lady suggested that she could make close cut hair on the sides and keep them long in the centre in the horse-mane style popular among certain young persons, who like their hair in bright colours. At the end, I came back almost bald to Bangkok and all the other meeting participants were very surprised by my changed appearance.

So if you want a haircut in Bangkok, remember to explain it really well! Here are some pictures from this trip to Ayutthaya.

From my Bangkok diary - part 3

It is already two weeks since I came back from Thailand and I have yet to finish my Bangkok diary. The last few weeks have been full of travels. First in India, then in Thailand, the to London in UK and finally to Brindisi in south of Italy. So I have loads of pictures from these journeys but there is no time for writing blogs!

***

I saw the canal next to our hotel straight away and while I was standing on the bridge near Mahanak market, I saw the boats also. But I had not realized that these boats are like vaporetto in Venice, cheap public transport (though in Venice they are no longer cheap).

They have blue plastic sheets around the edge of the boat so while it goes in the water, they pull those sheets up to protect the passengers from the water-spray and thus I didn't see the people inside those boats till I actually walked along the canal.

With gestures, I asked about the final destination of the boats but I couldn't understand. However, I could understand that the ride costed only 10 Baht, about 12 Rupees. So I decided to try going towards the river.

However I was disappointed that the boat terminated at the next stop, close to Wat Sraket or the golden mount. As I came out of the boat station, I was amazed to find myself exactly on the same place where I had lost my way during my last trip to Bangkok in November 2007.

So this time I could give names to the two lovely temples at the huge crossing between Lan Luang, Nakhon Sawan road, Ratchadamnoen Nok road and Klang road. The temples of Wat Ratchanaddaram and Wat Thepthidaram.

***

Next to Wat Thepthidaram there are numerous shops where they sell the different god statues from mainly from Buddhism and Hinduism.

Covered with transparent plastic sheets, I felt as if the gods were being suffocated, unable to breathe.

The black statues of the Gurus on sale on the pavement also made me think. Once they are placed in the temple, you are supposed to take off your shoes and pray in front of them. Yet, unsold, they are nothing, they wait on the pavements as people hurry around, uncaring about their saintliness.

***

The colourful mannequins in the market do not have Thai faces, they look more like Europeans, except that they have colourful hair and they have expressions. Some of them are laughing, a few are sad, looking like persons turned into stone.

Nude handless mannquins, covered with transparent plastic sheets where like dead corpses, their mouths stretched in death grins, were infinately sad.

***

I loved the boat journey on the canals. The boats are so cheap and fast. Yet they don't do publicity about them like they do for the more modern sky train and metro rail systems.

Only problem with these boats is the agily required to get in and out of them. If you are elderly or have stiff joints, like I discovered that I had, raising up the legs to get in, hanging on to the rope support, etc., it may be more dignified to ask for a taxi!