Strange Creatures by the Pool

There are currently a party of seven rather large Germans staying in one of the apartments in our development. A couple would probably be termed morbidly obese, the others stocky, perhaps bordering on obese. The mother has the neck of a weightlifter - I've never seen anything quite like it before on a woman. There is no clear delineation between her neck and head, it appears at first glance as if she has a box on the top of her shoulders. It is not helped by the fact that her hair is closely cropped to her head, only adding to the squareness. The father's moobs rest on his vast stomach, which disconcertingly hides his tiny swimming trunks, giving the impression that he is completely naked. The children, all in their twenties, have unfortunately inherited their parents' shapes yet also wear very tiny swimming attire.

I have had the pleasure of observing all this from the window in our kitchen as they have taken over the pool every day for the past couple of weeks. I say 'taken over' quite literally as they have sprawled across every inch of the area surrounding the pool. Towels have been placed proprietorially on each sunbed almost from dawn. In fact, that is how I surmised they were German. It is a lovely sight, the seven of them flopped on their sunbeds, flesh squeezing out between the armrests, slowly turning a particularly vibrant shade of raspberry. It is enough to make me want to drop to the ground and do one hundred crunches, followed by a half marathon. And I don't run. In fact, I'm just off to the gym now...

Fuming over Fumes

I've never played tennis in a bus terminus before and I can say with absolute certainty now that I would never want to. Of course, I've never really thought about it before. It would be rather strange to hit a ball around at a bus station and I'm sure it's not the venue choice of any tennis player. The Husband and I got an inkling of what it may be like yesterday though, when we were playing at our club. Over the weekend a big financial expo was being held at the convention centre adjoining the Royal Cliff Hotel, where our club is situated, generating a large number of vehicles all needing somewhere to park. Some official, who had obviously been dropped on his head at birth, thought it a fantastic idea to direct the coaches to park in an area behind the tennis courts. They were harmless for the first ten minutes of our time on court. Then they all simultaneously turned their engines on. Cue vast clouds of fumes ballooning out of the exhaust of each coach. Unluckily for us, the wind was blowing in our direction, sending the vile fumes directly at us. We played on for a couple of points before the coughing and spluttering became too much. By now, the fumes were actually visible, floating around the court and we were breathing it all in. Not the most pleasant environment to be playing tennis in. We immediately requested to move to a court further away from the idling buses but I continued to taste the acrid taste of those toxic fumes for at least a further half an hour. Presumably the divers were air conditioning their coaches to cool the interior before picking up its passengers but surely it doesn't take an hour and a half, the length of time they were running their engines before moving off. Clearly, the drivers were luxuriating in the cool of the air-conditioner without a care for the damage they were doing to the air quality outside. What did it matter to them? They were inside, nice and cool and probably asleep.

The Mysterious Market-Concert

Wednesday, 2pm: A loud screech from a sound system or an incredibly loud microphone brutally shakes me from my reverie, bent over the laptop trying to write an article on promotions. At first I thought the racket was coming from a passing pick-up truck, advertising a Thai boxing match or a pop concert, but when it didn't stop I knew it must be originating from a stationary venue. That's an unmoving venue, and not one in which paper, pencils, pens, pencil sharpeners, and other stationery converge. The screeching of the sound system turned into a screeching of voices, first talking and then singing. Badly. Or it could just have sounded bad because they were Thai songs which do involve a lot of wailing, whining and screeching. A bit like a drunk Celine Dion. As you might imagine, it was pretty difficult to get much work done so I gave up and went to the gym at around four o'clock, hoping that by the time I came back whatever was going on would have ended.

Unfortunately, the noise seemed only to have intensified when I returned at six. They, whoever they were and whatever they were doing, seemed to be gearing up for a big evening. The Husband came in through the door shortly after I did and reported that there was a huge market set up on some waste ground not far from where we live. Dozens of stalls and a stage had been set up, from where the terrible noise was emanating. Only the day before I had wandered past that area and there was no sign of anything being erected. There had been no posters to advertise anything, not even a pick-up truck screaming about it from its loudspeakers. This market-cum-concert seemed to have appeared from nowhere. What was particularly baffling was that I went to check it out in the light of day yesterday and it had mysteriously vanished. There was no evidence that there had ever been any sort of activity there at all. They must have packed it all up and fled as soon as it was over, in the middle of the night. Perhaps it's part of some sort of underground Thai network that secretly organises really terrible concerts and then flee before the bad music police can capture them and lock them away forever. Whatever it is, I just hope that they never set up near us again!

1.5 Hours of Pure Bliss

Following my neck/shoulder/upper back injury a couple of weeks ago, the Husband and I went to a spa that specialises in traditional Thai therapies, including the famous Thai massage. After several tortuous hours spent in the grips of a tiny Thai massage therapist with the strength of ten men, I now try to steer clear of that particular form. I did feel fantastic for days after each massage, however I'm not sure the benefits outweigh the pain endured during the bending, twisting, pinching, kneading and thwacking. I have come to the conclusion that it is not the sort of massage that someone with an incredibly low pain threshold should have. Consequently, we both tried the aromatherapy oil body massage which promised 'a relaxing, soothing and gentle massage with specially blended oils'. Just what the doctor ordered.

We were ushered up the stairs to a cool, quiet lobby area where we exchanged our shoes for soft sandals and followed the sweet looking Thai woman to a large room with two beds and two showers. The therapist asked us to shower and left the room. I quickly jumped in the state-of-the-art shower - one of those which shoots water out from about ten different points - rinsed all over and jumped out again. The Husband decided to take his time, luxuriating in the high-tech shower. I pointed out to him more than once that it's only supposed to be a quick shower to wash off any creams that you might have on your body and that the therapists would be coming back in very soon. Did he listen to me? No. And for that, he was caught by the returning therapist with the little pants they had given us to wear half-way down his bottom. Cue embarrassed laughs from all except me who just laughed. A lot.

The massage itself was utter bliss. The therapist found the knot in my shoulder and kneaded it out and the whole thing was so relaxing I almost fell asleep several times which, in my opinion, is an indicator of a brilliant massage. I was very disappointed when it ended - the 1.5 hours flew by. In fact, I think I may persuade The Husband to go again - just to see him in those tiny little pants again would be worth the trip alone!

Sweet Tooth

The Thais must have an incredibly sweet tooth as they seem to have the need to add sugar to everything. The ready-cut pineapple that I buy from Tesco each week is beautifully sweet and juicy and yet it comes packaged with a sachet of chili-sugar. If I added that sachet to the pineapple I think I'd be too wired to sleep for a week. That and I prefer my pineapple non-spicy! Thais are also probably the world's biggest consumer of condensed milk. They love it. It is added to most of their desserts and their tea and coffee is made with it. In fact, if you buy an iced tea from a market or mobile vendor, they will make a huge show of pouring the condensed milk in, something akin to Tom Cruise in the movie Cocktail. The vendors will also proudly display their tins of Carnation condensed milk - apparently Carnation is the Perrier Jouet of the condensed milk world. In my opinion, a little of that stuff goes a long way. Apparently the Thais don't agree.

Dirty Laundry

Washing machines, like ovens, are something of a rarity in Pattaya so most people we know out here take their washing to a laundry. The cost is minimal and your laundry is returned to you beautifully pressed. We are lucky to have a washing machine, even if it is a bit of an eyesore being an absolute tank and right next to the dining room table! Still, it means that I can pop a load in and leave it to run while I'm working rather than having to leave the flat twice to take it to a laundry and then collect it. I try not to leave the flat in the week unless absolutely necessary - I truly am turning into a reclusive writer, furiously typing away and grumbling at any intrusion in the form of the phone ringing or the door being knocked.

If I did take our washing to a laundry, I would not frequent the one just down the road from us. It shares a car park with a few other businesses, including a Harley Davidson shop. This car park is fairly busy, especially with motorbikes which zoom in and out in a cloud of fumes. This doesn't deter the laundry from frequently hanging out its washing in this car park. Yesterday, as I walked past on my way to the gym, I noticed that the washing was not only surrounded by parked cars but had actually blown over onto the ground. Not a good advertisement for the laundry. Bring your laundry to us and we'll wash it beautifully... and then leave it to dry in a dirty car park.

Indecent Exposure

Our local Tourist Police post recently underwent a facelift - nothing major, just a little extension. Nothing interesting in that, you may think, but it was what was added that makes this a blog-worthy event. You've probably already guessed from the photo above just what the Tourist Police of Pattaya thought was an essential addition to their post. I can see that some sort of lavatory would be useful but outdoor urinals? Given that they are also by a rather busy road makes this a particularly odd decision. I saw it all go up in stages and just assumed that they hadn't added the walls yet. That was two months ago. I'm now pretty sure that the urinals are intentionally exposed to all walking and driving past. What I especially like is how someone has hung a couple of orchids in baskets above the urinal, to ensure that it looks presentable to passers-by. I am sure that people will be commenting on that when they glance over and see a policeman urinating.