Further Lessons in Mai Pen Rai

The heat and humidity hit me like a train. We had left snow in England, boarded a heavily air conditioned plane – why are aeroplanes always so ridiculously cold?? – and, stepping into Suvarnabhumi airport, we could have been forgiven for thinking that the plane had taken a wrong turn and ended up in Alaska. So we were not prepared for what lay outside the automatic sliding doors of the airport.

It was 5pm in what was supposed to be the cool season and yet the air was still incredibly warm and thick with moisture. Attired in jeans (which were destined to see the back of our wardrobe for the length of our stay in Thailand) and multiple layers on top, I quickly began to feel oppressively hot and sticky. Back in the UK, which was already beginning to feel like another life, I had needed the singlet, long-sleeved shirt, cardigan, jacket and pashmina; now I felt like I was swathed in some sort of heated wrap in which you stew in your own juices to aid weight loss. As that thought entered my mind I decided to leave myself wrapped up as if I were in a snowstorm, in the hope that I might actually lose a few pounds. That lasted approximately two minutes (although it felt like twenty), until I thought I might either pass out or find myself melting to the ground like an ice-cream. I furiously peeled off layer after layer, flinging items of clothing on top of our cases, until I was left in just my singlet and jeans. It was only when I felt a modicum more comfortable that I realised we had been out at the pick-up area for ten minutes. Where was our driver?

“Don’t worry, he’ll be here soon,” said The Husband, attempting to soothe me. In response I fear snapped at him, voicing my opinion that the driver hadn’t exactly proved himself to be very reliable so far. The combination of heat, jet lag, and the enormity of what we were doing had left me feeling rather emotional and my fuse had become very short. I definitely needed to work on the whole mai pen rai thing. The Husband’s promises of good food and a comfortable bed as soon as we reached Pattaya didn’t help either, as that was exactly why I was getting antsy in the first place – the longer we were kept waiting in this natural steam room, the longer it would be until I was fed and tucked up in bed.

When the mini-van eventually pulled up in front of us, the driver stepped out and, still smiling, nonchalantly strolled over to help The Husband load the luggage into the boot. Mai pen rai, mai pen rai, mai pen rai, I chanted under my breath, hoping that the incantations would somehow flood into my body by osmosis and allow me to react to frustrating situations in the same way the Thais do. Hot-footing it into the cool of the van, I was finally able to relax as the air conditioner blasted blissfully over my body. The Husband and the driver climbed in and the engine roared into life. We were on our way to our home for the next year.