She had been ill in bed, confined to her room at the top of the house. She had a phone that she used to ring downstairs when she needed something. Was she locked in there I wonder?

I remember a pile of papers - Arabic writing on A4 sheets. She wrote Arabic - she adored the complexity of it - a trait I share, so my father told me yesterday. I can't remember her face or hear anything she might have said.

Tags: memories of my mother

*note to self: change my picture to a less miserable-looking one*

Hi hi.. and wowee zowee, what an exhausting couple of days...

We went to another area of the island on new years eve. Unfortunately, the total ease with which we had been getting rooms up to that point suddenly evaporated and we found ourselves wandering the tourist offices being laughed at when we inquired about accomodation. "Everywhere full" was the oppressive theme of that early evening.

We got a tip from another tourist who overheard our conversation that took us to a resort of 4 bamboo huts - a bed, a mosquito net and an outside toilet/shower area with no roof that drained out under the stilt-raised room, and nothing but a rusty padlock to protect our belongings. 400 baht. We wearily accepted. I don't regret it one bit; it was a necessary part of our experience, and the people were very friendly - although since feeling a bit queasy last night, probably as a result of the facilities there, I don't think those young men with their reggae music were the best people in the world to have daily house-cleaning as a vocation. The hut gave us ready access to deserted areas of beach that we wouldn't otherwise have visited, and for that I am glad. Even though my attempts to remove ground-in sand with the trickle of a cold-shower seemed to last indefinitely - very frustrating! But yeah - it was exactly the sort of place you'd expect to see, so that was good. And the next morning I had a lovely spot of lying in their shaded hammock looking out over sea through rustic fencing, among the coconut and pineapple trees.

Total relaxation remains a problem as my uninterrupted thoughts lead me back and forth over events in my life over the last 10-15 years - I am frequently stalling on my regrets and fears and shedding a silent tear while my hat covers my face.

INTERLUDE 1
I wanted to start a (briefly) recurring section on this blog called The Few Memories I Have Of My Mother. Here are two:

1. Whenever I wash my hair in the bath (hardly ever) I remember the time my mother made us cardboard protectors that fit round our foreheads like the rim of a hat. I remember being frustrated that they didn't work very well - shampoo still got in my eyes, and I'd seen an advert for a proper
   one that probably had a bit of rubber to make the seal more effective. I don't remember her face in this memory, only the feelings and the soap. I must have been about 3 or 4 years old.
2. Number two is more disturbing. Around the same time (I suppose; at that age it's all a blur I guess) I remember a car journey at night. We were on a motorway - I don't know which. There were no street lamps. My mother turned out the headlights and we drove in total blackness. I was terrified, but she insisted that because we were on a perfectly straight Roman road that there was nothing to worry about. I suspect there was an element of 'trust in Jesus' involved in this very literal act of blind faith.

Back to Thailand.

We had a late night on NYE. We had a very good time, all in all - lots of fireworks and fire stick wielding shows put on for our pleasure. I'm slightly reluctant to admit that we were on Ko Lanta's equivalent of Yates' in the Miami resort (a couple of resorts down from our hut of primitivity); I tried to order champagne for the stroke of midnight and we made-do with white wine. Sawat-di-bee-mai!

I woke up at 6am the next morning to a cock's crow (well - a half-cocked-crow - it only said cock-a-dood). There had been a cricket indoors with us all night, making its cricket's noise at full volume all night (we only discovered it nestled in the mosquito netting the next day when it was pretty much dead). I decided I wanted to watch the sun rise over 2007. Nicky came with me. The sun came from behind the mountains, but it was still worth doing. Despite the shouting, still drunk, thai boys running naked in and out of the sea a couple of hundred metres away.

We spent the morning on New Year's Day looking, once again, for accomodation. By this time we were both very adamant about getting a room with a hot shower. We asked at several places and eventually got a room for one night at the Pink House. The room was in a brilliant location - right on the beach front. It was air conditioned and had a hot shower. But it was extremely strangely organised and shambolically put together. There was a thin white sheet with holes it  and replete with small red stains for a duvet (scarcely an improvement of the two woolen blankets we'd got in the hut the night before). The shower was behind the bathroom door and dubiously installed. The towel rail was on the wrong side of the wet floor. There was a feint stench coming from somewhere. 1700 Baht. Considering we'd paid 1800 for a very-plush-in-comparison semi-detached bungalow (with a fridge, TV, nice towels and toiletries) in Klong Dao I started to regret ever coming down to Klong Nin. But hey - you don't know unless you try, do you!

INTERLUDE 2
Ooh, ooh, I forgot to say. A couple of days ago I received a myspace message entitled "I WANT YOU ON MY LABEL" from a 'PAUL BURKE of "jim wants to get out of the car and walk home records"'. So I should have a track out on a compilation early next year ("PREFERABLY UNRELEASED OR NEW MATERIAL, BUT SINCE YOU ROCK I WILL TAKE WHAT I CAN GET"). Yes, this person is a serious CAPS-LOCK abuser... :-)

We relaxed in the afternoon. I thought we should. Then we check out Klong Kong, the 'hippie beach' in the evening. It was initially appealing with the colours and the relaxation and the low-rolling 'chillout' coming from the impressive sound system, but not the sort of place I'd have wanted to stay. Watching long-haired men with their eyes shut rolling their heads in a 'drug bliss' to insipidly formulaic meaningless music grates on my nerves rather quickly.

I wish people wouldn't pretend to understand things that they don't. Especially waiters in restaurants. The guy last night made a total pig's ear of our order involving his having to come back to us three times - "no small fish for one" okay, cancel mine and we'll share a big one; "sorry, no fish at all" okay, I'll have what I was having. can we see the menu again? My order never came. I shared Nicky's. The vegetable tempura was great though: onion tempura? they're called onion rings mate! They fried and battered the entire set of available vegetables, including tomatoes and green beans :-) And a decent hot sweet chilli dip! I'm very disappointed how difficult it is to get really spicy food out here!

We asked in a few more places about rooms after our meal. And as a result we now have a room for FIVE NIGHTS (Oh. My. God.) in a plush resort, with a good shower; a really nice room. Albeit separated from the beach by a road and a strip of wasteland... 2000 a night including breakfast. Ho hum. At least we can relax for a few days now!

I guess that brings everything up to date. Happy New Year, y'all.

Tags: memories of my mother, releases, thailand
Current Location: beach front resort - Ko Lanta
Current Mood: fizzy
Current Music: The sound of waves crashing on the shore. And motorbikes.