For the past few days I’ve been tying up the loose ends concerning my travel plans for my visit to Thailand next week. I’ve been stood in a bank queue waiting to order travellers cheques and also in a regimented orderly line at my local council office patiently waiting to pay my monthly council tax and quarterly building maintenance charge. Other bills have had to be paid as well. Then of course there was my orders from Wonderful Wi.
” Ilis flowers. What the bloody hell are they.”
” Ilis flowers, I show you my book before, you forget awnleady (already). I want blue, lellow (yellow) and led (red) flowers for our garden.”
I had visions of the bemused look I might get from the garden centre sales person when I asked for lead free Iris bulbs (photo by BS Thurner Hof). Luckily a kind lady at my bank branch directed me to a store just a few shops away.
I must of looked every inch the perfect metrosexual man stood in my local Wilkinson’s store holding four packets containing 100 Iris bulbs. It had taken me ages to find them because I kept walking past them thinking they were onions. Metrosexual….where the hell did that word come from. Even my dashboard spellchecker has put a red line query under it. It must be time to get Sticky Wiki out of her box.
Here’s an extract from Sticky Wiki on the metrosexual man:
“The typical metrosexual is a young man with money to spend, living in or within easy reach of a metropolis – because that’s where all the best shops, clubs, gyms and hairdressers are. He might be officially gay, straight or bisexual, but this is utterly immaterial because he has clearly taken himself as his own love object and pleasure as his sexual preference. Particular professions, such as modeling, waiting tables, media, pop music and nowadays, sport, seem to attract them, but truth be told, like male vanity products and herpes, they’re pretty much everywhere”.
There’s no mention of Iris bulbs but I’m sure that was an error on the author’s part.
On Wednesday I land at Suvarnabhumi for my second of three annual trips to Thailand. Unfortunately this is the shortest holiday of the trio. A two week vacation awaits me with a longer 20 day stay to come at Christmas. I guess 30 plus days in Thailand out of the next 120 isn’t too bad, although I’d truly love to swing that ratio around.
This holiday is going to be solely based in Udon Thani. My plan is to stay about eight days at our village home with the remaining time spent relaxing in the city. The best of both worlds. The rustic charm of village life and the energetic beating pulse of a provincial city hell-bent on enjoying its free time. That’s a picture postcard combination. I’m also relishing the thought of my conversations with young Wilai.
” Hus…band. What you want do wannee (today) ”
” Up to you “…….It’s a great feeling saying those three words to a Thai lady.
” I want you choose. I want hus….band enjoy hollowday (holiday) ”
” I want to go to the Napalais Hotel, have a few beers and go for a swim ”
” You not want go talart (market) Nong Khai ”
” Not today ”
” Up to hus…band ”
My towel didn’t get wet that day and my stomach flattened out a bit. It didn’t reach a six pack but it went from Easter to Cadbury’s cream egg. I also spent a fair few baht at the market. I miss those conversations when I’m here in England.
Roll on Tuesday.
© 2010, Martyn. All rights reserved.