Long Neck Karen and other tales
Trip Start
Jan 16, 2012
1
55
92
Trip End
Jan 01, 2014
Pattaya, Thailand
Monday, May 28, 2012
On Thursday we took the scooter out the 20 or so kilometres to Silverlake, a beautiful lake (duh, not silver though), around which a very Tuscan/Mediterranean looking resort is being constructed. We had travelled out to Silverlake partially on a random exploring tip and partially with the hope of seeing “Long Neck Karen”, a lady’s whose name is adequate description of her physical appearance. She has worn metal rings around her neck for a number of years and now has an elongated neck. Sadly, commercialisation has reached even this remote corner of Thailand and Long Neck Karen has gone from inviting viewers just for the love of the game (and maybe a small souvenir purchase) a couple of years ago to charging 250 Baht (over five pounds) per person even in these economically testing times. We politely declined and in doing so I like to think made a small stand against the rampant spread of Western inspired capitalism…
A few kilometres further into the countryside and it seemed that karma had favoured the circus freak as the scooter wobbled violently and an examination of the machine revealed that we had a puncture of the back wheel. We were a long way from home, it was blisteringly hot and the outlook did not look good. However, Saint Jude was fighting our corner and, a short way into what I thought may be a very long push, a kindly Thai told us to follow him - about 50 yards later we were in a primitive garage, receiving a less than warm welcome from three menacing looking dogs but a hospitable one from the key man - the owner. Five minutes, and less than three pounds, later and we were the proud owners of a new bike wheel inner tube. We paid the sort of tip which is probably the root cause for many Thais assuming all falangs are over loaded with unwanted money from which they must be parted, and we were on our way. At this juncture it is worth commenting that riding a “motorbike” (OK, scooter) in Thailand (anywhere in SE Asia for that matter) is like playing on an arcade game, albeit the consequences of “Game Over” are a little more definitive, as one must deal with being cut up, cut down, swerve stray dogs, cows, police, potholes and all manner of madness just to reach the safety of the destination.
One could attend around 20 different markets selling anything one can imagine (and many things one can’t) within 10 kilometres of Luton Town and Friday is “THE” day for local markets. We attended two, and I behaved like a miserable child at both, as my attention span and patience for disorganised commerce expires slightly sooner than that of a Premier League footballer on a day off. Somehow we did manage to procure the necessary, with my main agenda being birthday presents for mother, sister and niece (there must be something in late August/early September air which makes the Turners go a little wild…). It says something about the man when birthday presents for three close relatives cost less than the postage back to the UK. The only conclusions can be either (1) postage from Thailand to the UK is more expensive than gold or (2) Nicholas is the sort of man who would rather spend his pennies on botox than his family. The answer is somewhere in between, probably closer to (2), and I take no pride in this admission. [It reminded me of Christmas 2000, when I was working in London and bought all the family Chrimbo presents at Harrods (despite a salary which was probably half that of the average parking meter in London). The gifts were absolute shite but nothing says I love you and the boy has done well (Dick-head Whittington) than Harrods’ gift packing.] In an attempt to recoup some credibility, we delivered unwanted clothing and lollipops to the local orphanage - the latter has probably resulted in my name being included on a register with Mr Child Catcher, R Kelly and G Glitter…
Saturday brought our first ever experience of an auction house - owned and run by an affable Welsh chap. We had checked out the merchandise and only had two modest targets - sun loungers for our guests who are arriving this Thursday. As both beds were fairly rusty we were hoping to pick them up for less than five pounds each - our expectations had also been raised by the fact that motorbikes had been going for less than four hundred pounds in the motor auction, which preceded the miscellaneous sale. Alas, Shelley got into a heated bidding war with an elderly gentleman and finally had to admit defeat when they reached eight pounds per lounger - too rich for our unemployed blood. I dedicated a reasonable portion of the remainder of the day to addressing my fairly unacceptably “relaxed” stomach, testament to my sampling of a large quantity of the finest beers the region has to offer (Beer Laos is number one for me) during our seven week travels. Sacrifices will need to be made in this constant battle against middle aged spread and it may be the time in life to turn my back permanently on amber nectar in favour of less calorific excelsiors, we shall see…
