Back to Reality

Breaking up is hard to do, Bar Girls, don't you just luv em.

Finally after 40 years and lots of solitary practise I was finally able to make the earth move for a woman, more about my last day with the Thai girlfriend later.

As many of you will have gathered I have left the land of smiles and am back in the town of piles, London. I shouldn’t knock my hometown but honestly within 2 hours of being back I heard more than once that all of Britain’s problems are the fault of the Polish, obviously the current trendy race of people to blame for all of Britain’s failings.

Back to Thailand and it was my last week and no blog entry would be complete without one last new motorbike rule.
Never under any circumstances go out on your motorbike, get ridiculously pissed and then forget where you have parked your bike; not only will it lead you to having to shell out 15 pence on a tuk tuk home it will also mean you will waste 4 hours the following afternoon looking for it.

Motorbike problems were not the only cause for concern that I unnecessarily gave myself. I awoke one day last week covered in ubi’s (unidentifiable beer injuries) and one was so scary it looked as if my liver or kidneys had finally burst.
I was to be informed later by one of my drinking companions that I had tried one fancy dance manoeuvre to many, to use the dance technical term I had gone ‘arse over tit’ off the podium and crushed a rib and other sensitive body parts, what price was a dance podium to mangle me rather than a motorbike accident.
Other than lost motorbikes and bruises my last week was a great success. Marcus and I went out for a slap up dinner at my expense to thank him for the hundreds of favours he had done me during my stay, it wouldn’t have been anywhere near as much fun had he not been around. Steaks and wine were hungrily consumed as a treat to ourselves followed by a night on the tiles ‘Chang Mai’ style, outrageous fun.


This is Marcus, his normal pose was on the stage in Spicy with Vodka ice in hand eyeing up all the ladies in the place.


I also had a smashing last evening in our local with the bargirls who had all taken me under their collective wing.
In all bars such as these in Thailand you will find a bell, which you ring at your peril. If you do you are expected to buy everyone in the place a drink and things can get a little intimidating if you refuse to hold up your end of the deal. Me? I was all too happy to ring the bell all night and buy drinks for the girls who have had me in stitches with their stories and have proved to be the sexiest pool opponents I’ve ever played.
They all seemed genuinely upset that I was leaving and plastered me in kisses for about 20 minutes before I could finally fell out of the place, as one they shouted at me ‘love you long time’, praise indeed.

It’s not just the bar girls who shall miss me and the free drinks, the security man at our apartment seemed even sadder. He had apparently won an award a few years ago for 'Thailand’s alcoholic of the year', though since being bestowed with such an admirable title he had fallen on hard times and was unable to pursue his interest with as much vigour due to the financial burdens, therefore every night I drove home I would stop at the hut at the bottom of our soi and buy him a bottle of beer, I felt it my duty to keep our security man not only awake but happy and an 8 pence bottle of lager did the trick, maybe I was seeing my future and was hoping karma would reward me in years to come.

And so it was time to say goodbye to she who has made my life an even happier place for the time I was here and what a way to say goodbye. As we lay in bed on the final afternoon the bed started shaking, then moving then I realised it wasn’t her messing about but a bone fide earthquake.
I did as any chivalrous man such as I would do in such circumstances, I ran for my life and it was only when I hit the apartment corridor to be greeted by other fearful guests did I realise that I had not only left her behind but worse, I was naked.
Happily she was just behind me and also my nakedness seemed to have a calming influence on the other scared guests as they realised that an earthquake was the least of their worries and that there was a semi turned on nude 40 year old fat bloke running around very near there open doors.

The quake stopped, the heartbeat returned to normal and she who has made my life an even happier place was treated to a night out of the highest opulence (no not Mcdelivery) but a rather expensive Italian meal and even more expensive Italian wine. She has been great fun to be with and a little place of my heart will have a space for her as it has for the other lovely ladies who have bought me joy. We ended things maturely realising there was no future in it for either of us and that was the end of that. Hopefully that will be the last of my nakedness and erection stories for some time, in fact I think its safe to say l be waiting some time before I meet a lady friend who can cope with both.

I flew to Bangkok from Chang Mai to catch my connecting flight to London to get home in time for the cup final. This left me with about 5 spare hours in Bangkok and so I decided to visit Ko San road, the touristy road of Bangkok famous for its sales vendors and bars catering to Farrang.
It was so awful I couldn’t even begin to describe it here but it cheered me up that I hadn’t wasted time in Bangkok and had seen a much cooler part of Thailand in Chang Mai.
At the airport depression kicked in so I did something I hadn’t done in 6 months and read my blog, it cheered me up immensely, I had forgotten some of the amazing times and some of the amazing people i had met along the way, it lifted my spirits immeasurably.

I’m not a great sleeper at the best of times let alone on a 14 hour flight but Marcus once again came through with a plan which worked perfectly. After explaining my dilemma his response was

“No worries son, you’re in Bangkok, nip down the local pharmacy and grab yourself a couple of valiums”

I was willing to give anything a go and 15 pence later I had two valium tablets ready for the flight. Washed down with a decent glass of red I slept 12 hours! It is compulsory in my opinion that airlines provide valium for all long haul flights.

So to London where panic set in almost immediately. I had planned that I would land at Heathrow Saturday morning; get a bus to my mate Steve’s just in time to watch the mighty blues in the cup final.
Having only a fiver in my pocket i had to budget carefully, a £2 bus fare and a short walk to Steve’s left me in good spirits but when his house was locked up I feared the worse. £2.50 was wasted on a stress relieving pint leaving me 50p to track him down.
Finding a phone box that works in London is harder than finding arm bands at Michael Barrymore’s house but eventually I got one and our conversation went something like this

Me "where the hell are you! Its 1pm on cup final day?"

Steve " You twat, I’m at work it's Friday"

So somehow on the journey home I managed to lose a day which was fine by me as Steve and I celebrated by consuming a crate of Guinness.

Saturday was spent catching up with friends and watching us mug Man Utd to lift the cup, i seemed to have a 120 minutes of jetlag during the match but snapped out of it as soon as the final whistle was blown.
Sunday I caught up with me old mucker ‘the Swan’ and got there by travelling on the back on Steve's bike. Now as you know I consider myself some sort of motorcycle wizard these days so when he offered me a lift on the back of his bike I was all to happy to accept. It was when I was trying to haul myself onto it I began to suspect that there are a few differences between the piddley 100 cc I was cruising around on and the 9000 fuck off horsepower bike that Steve drives. Remarkably I appear to have overcome my fear of speed and whilst clinging onto the back of the bike doing approx 350 mph down the m4 I began to enjoy myself.



Something to cheer on my return

Monday was again spent catching up with great mates Faiz Daz and Smallesys.
It was Faiz's idea that I should write a blog and many thanks to him for that as i still enjoy writing it and it was Smallesy who came up with an idea whilst I was away that I very nearly put into practise.
On messenger from New Zealand I was explaining to him that I was approaching skintness and he in his infinite wisdom suggested i set up a website called 'save my holiday.com' The idea being that people send me some of there hard earned wages so that I could continue enjoying myself and extend my holiday, due to my laziness it never got off the ground but a great idea none the less, internet begging is one possible angle to look at for me.

Seeing all my friends lifted my spirits greatly but none more so than last night when i caught up with my little sis who now commutes between London and Dublin and so was able to treat her Bro to a tasty Italian dinner and a couple of jars. I missed her greatly and am already looking forward to abusing her hospitality next week in Dublin.

A friend of mine commented recently that I was the new 'Ray Mears', Spillages world wide booze survival techniques was the way he described reading my blog over the last few months, it was a kind comparison.
Of course I will continue writing a blog though I doubt it will have the same kind incidents, accidents and erection mishaps this blog has conveyed over the last few months. It’s onto new adventures now, no job, 40 years old, skint, does it get more exciting than that?
I have a few more rendezvous’ with friends in London planned for the rest of the week then its off to Ireland for a bit of tlc from the family then back to Spain until I can get a job somewhere on the planet, anywhere but in England preferably but beggars cant be choosers eh.
Finally a few reminders

Perth Spending time with all my beloved Australian family members, watching the 3rd Test, Monty’s debut, in the barmy army, the Gilchrest innings, meeting Michael Vaughn, going to the Perth cup, Christmas day in the soaring heat followed by an Italian feast, playing golf surrounded by Kangaroo’s, wine tasting, camping in the outback….pretty expensive

Melbourne, Superlise! Watching loads of tennis incl Federer v Roddick and the 5 setter between Murray and Nadal, breakfast with the Federer's, Murray, Action Dave and Amanda, Michelle Wie, Chinese poker, playing poker, Rafee, Lilly Allen, Neil Perry's restaurant, England beating Australia.....bloody expensive

Sydney, The apartment view (and price), the hostel, the QE2, surf babes, the 12 apostles, Manly beach, The Olympic stadium, the bridge and opera house, the Rugby league match, penguins….. Even more bloomin expensive

New Zealand, Kohukohu Hugh Hera and Artie, Mussel fishing, Milford sound, lunging, the scenery, St Patrick’s day, getting high in the mountains with Maoris, Sarah Ady and Daniel, Auntie Maura and the day trip to Waikiki Island, ....pricey

Thailand, Offers of midget sex, erection troubles with masseuses, smog, temples, Chang Mai, motor biking, trekking, bamboo huts, Marcus, Spicy nightclub, Sonkran, 24, chang beer, Geoff, Mcdelivery, more Temples, Monsoons, Earthquakes, Hippos and of the course she who made my time here an even happier place....cheap as chips

The last 6 months of my life........Priceless



click on this, it may make you chuckle, espicially the roof bit.

Geoff and other Animals (Kit tung pom mai?)

Goodbye Chang Mai

Well it’s been a while since I updated the blog and with good reason. If you remember from a few posts ago I said I was going to spend some time in a temple, meditating and fasting. Obviously I did none of that; rather I have been having a farewell party and a ‘chin up’ party for the last 2 weeks, in fact every day has seemed like Groundhog Day.

The farewell party is due to the fact that ‘the dream is over’, I return to blighty next week after 6 months of having the best time ever. The chin up party was due to Chelsea’s collapse at the final hurdle. All of the pain has been reduced somewhat by the fact I have been spending a rather large and enjoyable time with a lovely lady.

But first I have had a couple new and exciting experiences with animals this week. Before you slap your forehead and groan ‘no Spillane, not again’ let me report how innocent they both were.

First off I spent a wonderful day at Chang Mai zoo. Now the zoos in Thailand do not suffer from the political correctness of Western zoo’s oh no sir. Within 5 minutes I was petting a zebra followed by stroking a bear but the highlight of the day was feeding a hippopotamus.
I have had the pleasure of feeding many a large animal breakfast before none seemed as grateful as the hippo. The zoo keeper just handed me a basket and I bravely stuffed my hand full of cabbage and proceeded to put it in the appreciative hippo’s gob, by Jove they have big mouths.


her teeth could have done with a wash

The next experience was a tad more bizarre and occurred in our local. I was crouched down concentrating on potting the black in a rather intense game of pool I was playing against one of the bar girls. Whilst checking the angle I looked up and was somewhat surprised to be staring into the eye of an Elephant.
Yep, no pc rules here, some bloke was just taking his elephant for a walk and decided to park him outside the bar while he grabbed a cold one. What amazed me most was that no one seemed the slightest bit surprised; I on the other hand was fascinated and immediately potted the black and went to have a meet and greet with the large mammal. I was allowed to feed him some carrots (had to pay 10p for the pleasure) and stoke him until we both got a bit bored, excellent stuff.

I also previously reported how little I knew of motorbikes and thought they had a reverse gear, I have learned a great deal since.
Firstly motorbikes work better with petrol in them.
Secondly it is wise to put up the bike stand when going 70km/ph around corners.
Thirdly do not go over bumps in the road whilst showing off to your friend how well you can drive hands free.
Lastly and most importantly; never attempt a 2 kilometre journey whilst carrying 3 drunken female passengers whilst drunk in a monsoon wearing glasses. I think if you are to enjoy the experience of driving a motorbike you may well want to pay attention to that last one.
Somehow though I have survived and although covered in scratches and bruises I can’t be sure if they are from the bike or the missus.

The weather here in the last 2 weeks has been quite simply preposterous. One never knows whether to go out in shorts/tee-shirt/sandals or ten gallon hat/body covering Mac/Wellingtons. I had only prepared for one type of weather so when the rainy season began I like most others was constantly soaked from head to toe.
To compound matters we have had a huge monsoon hit us in the last couple of days and what an experience it is to be caught in that; Chang Mai flooded in about 30 minutes yesterday. You still get the occasional blasts of 40 degree heat but they are becoming fewer and fewer.


Monsson's a coming

I did finally go and lose some part of my heart to a fare Thai maiden who looks like Shakira which came as a surprise as I had retired emotionally after having the ticker crushed on one occasion to many.
Obviously there is no future in it but the last few weeks have been joyous and it’s nice to have an erection when it’s needed and appreciated rather than when some 25 stone masseuses is going to work on my feet. It will be a wrench to leave her but I’m sure she will be in the arms of another farrang within 10 minutes of my plane taking off (cynicism is one of my coping mechanisms).


My pool game has improved immeasurably over the last few weeks but I fear it will do me no good back on Western soil. The reason is that all the pool tables here are weather beaten and uneven. For instance you can aim for the middle pocket, just miss but have a decent chance that it will roll into one of the corner pockets.
Having played a lot of pool in our local I learned the nuances quickly but the bar girls can never work it out. I take great pleasure in teasing them all by saying if any of them beat me I will pay their bar fine knowing they will try ruthlessly to win (some even resort to cheating by craftily replacing balls you had previously potted) but never will.

I get on great with all the girls in there, mainly because they think I am cute and they know I’m not a ‘punter’ as my Lady friend occasionally joins me. Now that they trust me they have been telling some stories that even made me blush but I can report this funny one with the girl’s permission.

All bar girls go through a training programme before they start the job which encompasses sex education, more sex education and of course the importance of safe sex.
One other course is in English as most farrang cannot speak a work of Thai. This particular lady had nabbed herself a young Englishmen and awoke the following morning to engage in a little pillow talk. When he asked how she was felling she replied she was a little horny, excellent news for the young Englishmen who proceeded to correct the situation. After the bout he asked how she felt now and she said she was still horny, round 2 began and ended. Nobly he asked again and this time she said she was really horny; our hero apparently was able to muster himself for one last assault. Post coitus he asked again and when she said again that she was still horny he got told her to get dressed and go home. When she got back to the bar it was explained to her that if she wanted to eat something she should learn to say she is hungry rather than horny.


I have visited many temples since recently but none is more impressive than the one in Doi Suthep up in the mountains. I intended to go on a detox here is the agenda and rules:

Wake up at 4am.
Breakfast of veggie stew served at 6am followed by meditation till 12 noon.
12 noon lunch of more veggie stew, last meal of day.
Rest of day meditating
10pm lights out

Rules:
No talking unless extremely necessary
Must wear white at all times
No intaking of tobacco alcohol or any other drugs
No use of mobile phones
When I realised I could only truly follow rule 2 I sacked the idea.


Great place but i wouldnt want to live there

Also recently I spent a very enjoyable and drunken evening in the company of a professor from Chang Mai University.
He told loads of tales about the history of the place and most fascinatingly the evening of the coup. The army had had enough of the prime ministers corruption (beware all Manchester City fans) and decided to take action. As the prime minister was from Chang Mai they worried that if there was to be any opposition it would be in this particular area so more tanks were sent here than anywhere else.
He explained he was using the internet late one night when it just cut out along with all broadcasting on TV and radio. He then heard noises outside and was startled to see a parade of about 50 tanks pass by his window. I would have crapped myself and headed for the nearest bunker but he said everyone was completely unfazed by it all and carried on pretty much as normal even though a curfew was imposed for a while.


Other than socialising with professors I have mixed with more rich and famous Hollywood stars, well he’s probably rich I’m not sure how famous he is, do you recognise him?

Yes this little devil was spotted both in loi kroh road where all the girlie bars are and then enjoying himself in spicy’s nightclub. He’s been in both the Soprano’s and 24 and is probably making a movie here.


Talking of Hollywood I have watched a ton of films recently. Day’s can fly by when spent getting up with missus, brekkie, video shop, rent illegally copied latest Hollywood blockbuster (about 20p) and feet up for rest of the day.
Though she can speak great English I wack the subtitles on as they amuse me greatly and can make any old Hollywood piece of shite funny. After the film has been copied they get some sap in to translate who may be able to speak English but has no idea how to spell it and if the actor in question is a mumbler or has an accent you can forget that the words will bear any resemblance to the script, example

Jack Nicholson in the departed
"you wanna mess with me kid, you wanna go down this route with me?

Translation: Child, are you wanting too? You mess child? Which directions is it we should take? Are we together going?

The largeness of my tummy has not been helped recently either as Ronald Macdonald has really got his shit together over here and does deliveries, as do KFC and just about all the pizzerias.

I also got to visit many new wild and wonderful bars as the missus is a local and is known to let her hair down on occasions. One bar in particular stood out, not so much for its ambience but more for the sign on entry.
No knives, no guns, no grenades, no explosives or any other firearm.
"Is a rocket launcher considered a firearm" I enquired but this was met stony frown by the Thai bouncer and a nudge in the ribs from my partner.
I did actually have a fiendishly good night in there, chives regal was 4 quid a bottle and the mama san took great delight in teaching me Thai. Let me explain this was not the sort of Thai one would use in everyday conversation but ‘rude Thai’ from a book with the same name. Its nice to know if ever I want to tell you to go **** yourself then stick your ***** in a ****** and eat it I can now do so in Thai.


And so to the footie where I think I played some small part in our faltering season. You can remind yourself of my enthusiasm for believing Chelsea could do the quadruple by reading the last paragraph from the previous entry where I was off to buy a new Chelsea top and cheer us all the way. I did indeed buy a top, it cost 3 quid and carried Drogba’s name on the back and we haven’t won a game since.

Please god do not let the Americans ever become interested in football. I was watching us lose the title at Arsenal on ESPN and with 3 minutes gone I was still clinging to the belief that we might pull it off. Chelsea were on the attack and then bam, cut to adverts. I first I laughed but when they did it again 4 minutes later I could feel myself cracking and by the third advert break after 12 minutes I was throwing the nearest thing to me at the screen, pizza slice, beer, girlfriend.

I cannot begin to express my pain at the Liverpool defeat so I won’t bother other than add it was made somewhat less painful by being in the company of ‘Connor’ a humble Liverpool fan from Dublin and a great couple, Tony and Caroline from Hertfordshire (he is also a Liverpool but fortunately Caroline was a Newcastle fan so could empathise we me greatly).

We ended up having a spectacularly drunken evening slamming tequila’s and shooting sambuca’s till 9 in the morning in a tiny bar which only allows you in if you knock on the shutters loudly enough (Thai licensing laws and music blaring out made this extremely difficult at first). Inside we were greeted by an unusual site of ladyboys, drag queens, extremely drunken Japanese men and a few fellow farrangs, the atmosphere was rocking. Tony and I entertained ourselves for hours after he told me how he and his mates call Ladyboys ‘Geoff’, to give your mate a clue that the lady he might be chatting up isn’t all she seems; for example, ‘Alright Connor, Geoff looks pretty tonight’.
At one stage one quite glamorous ladyboy was dancing on the pool table in a figure hugging pink dress to a thumping house tune but all anyone could have heard was Tony and I screaming at the top of our voices, "Get down Geoff, Geoff stop it, Geoff NOOOOOOO!"
maybe you had to be there.



Geoff in a rather fetching outfit