2010 - The England Jaunt

Date: Wednesday 16th June 2010
Ex-Llyods pub (namechange), Abington Street, Northampton, England. 12.55pm.

We landed OK.

I got off and walked through to immigration. The guy let me through, without undue let or hindrance, and I went to baggage claim. There was a toilet and my bowels went a bit. I got my bag and then had to go again. I walked towards the green channel and was alone. I noticed the customs officers looking at me and laughing, but I didn't get pulled.

In the arrivals hall I got a ticket to Victoria plus cash. I went down and straight on the bus, asking to go as far as the rail station so I could get a night bus.

I had bought an egg mayonnaise sandwich, the first 'normal' one for ages; it was so good. No added sugar whatsoever, just peppery in the filling and malty in the bread, divine.

It took about an hour and a half to get in and it stopped at the side of the station. I walked round to the buses. I passed the place where I had been reminded of in Thailand. Outside I was directed to the information booth, and realised that I'd have to take two buses, one to Green Park and another to Earl's court. It was about one am. by then. I had to pay a two pound ticket from the machine, and the bus announced Green Park. I crossed the road, then got on. I wasn't sure where it was, after about twenty minutes I started seeing things I knew were around Earls Court and got worried I was going past it.

I got off and asked for directions in a kebab shop. I expected the guy to not speak English so well but he was a local. I walked back the way I had came and had to go down a dark alley, but then I saw it, it was actually a place I have often passed.

I walked in and said, 'Hi, I've just arrived from Malaysia to avail the room I booked ten months ago.'

The guy said, 'Yesssssss.' and seemed somewhat impressed. I got my room key and went up. Compared to what I was expecting, it was fine. There was a bed and toilet with just enough room for the toilet door to open if I put my bag on the bed. There was a dimmer switch. Everything in the room was either stark white or sunset orange.

I turned the dimmer down and slept.

Date: 20th June 2010

The Eastgate, Abington Road, Northampton, UK. 1.55pm

It's it strange, how this pub has been renamed 'after' the place I live in Thailand, well, the place I live more than any other.

Anyway, to continue the update...

I woke up that day and a miserable woman checked me out, but I was still impressed with the place. I walked out towards Earls Court underground and it was cold and drizzly and I looked silly in my Asian clothes, but I had no choice.

I put five pounds on my oyster card and took the tube to Hammersmith, mainly because it's the place I know and I wanted to get some clothes. I arrived and couldn't get past the novelty of food that didn't taste sweet and so had a sandwich, then sat in Burgerking for an hour. Some miserable times I've had there, but I was feeling pretty good at that point.

I went to Primark and got measured and was horrified to find that my waist was 43, from 32 when I first started traveling, but 38 was my average as an adult. Not good. I went to the chemist for some St. John's Wort, but they were out, so I went back and bought some clothes. With all the trouble to even get a reasonable teeshirt in Asia, I had new everything in about fifteen minutes. One thing was rung through twice but I noticed and got a refund.

There wasn't really time to do anything else, so I went to Victoria, then out to the coach station. I didn't have anywhere arranged, so phoned one of the numbers I had found online while still in Chiang Mai. A woman answered and said it would be thirty for a single, and so I arranged to come later.

The air-con was broken on the bus up and it was really hot, plus there were jams and we got in about half an hour late. I got the bus to the Abington pub, then went and sat in the park for a while. It was about half eight and still light, cold but sunny. There were old people playing bowls and it made me think the time I bunked off school with Adam Winkworth and we sat and watched them.

I walked onto the guesthouse. There was no sign and so I knocked on number 13 and a woman answered. It was a standard English little (?pokey) house, but I was shown up to a room, which was fine. I paid and went back and sat in the park. I wanted to sit and revise somewhere, so I looked in a couple of pubs, then gave up because it was busy at the weekend, and so I went home.

Next day I woke up and washed, then went down to breakfast. I was a bit nervous I suppose as I don't hang about these little English places; it was too intimate, but I think OK. The breakfast was cooked. I can't remember who sat with me at this little table. I asked if I could stay another day and that was arranged.

I went downtown. I think I hung around a bit, then took the bus over to A's. The little village was basically the same. I wasn't sure what to expect. The main thing I was thinking about was how her mental capacity would be. Over the past year or something, it's been very hard to have conversations with her, she doesn't know what I'm talking about and I have to keep the conversation very simple and mundane.

So, I walked in, and it took her about a second to recognise me. I noticed that her hands were trembling, which I don't think is a good sign. We chatted for about ten minutes and I realised that the communication difficulties weren't caused by her poor quality phone, there's been a definite deterioration. Basically, I can't have a normal conversation with her, I have to simplify everything I say, though once she starts talking on a thread she seems OK. A few days ago I was talking to her and asked a couple of questions to check, though I threw them in a general conversation to disguise them. Firstly, she couldn't remember how many brothers and sisters she had. Then I asked her what her middle name was, she made a guess and got it wrong, and then couldn't remember.

Anyway, I had one day here to revise. Then I had my exam. I woke up early and went straight to town, then took a bus down to the train station, the first time in about six or seven years that I've been there. I went as far as Bletchley. I've often passed there but never got off. Now I found that there's nothing there. I had to take another bus and had the directions to get off first stop after the second roundabout. After we went around I pressed the bell but pressed it late and was standing and so as it braked, I ran to the front of the bus and hit a woman in the face with my umbrella. She started swearing at me and I almost fell off the bus but I got off in the middle of nowhere and some roadmenders told me where to go. I went there and some more people directed me to the stadium, which looked like a football stadium, and I had to go in a hotel which was attached to it.

There were people milling about in the lobby talking about psychology and a sign directing OU students up the stairs. I went up and there were about six people so I sat and waited until a guy came and said we needed to be in another room. I followed some people around and there was another room full of tables and people everywhere. I think there were maybe eighty, almost all women and perhaps five males. My name was on a board, with FOW FOUR written on. I sat down. Over the past couple of days I had condensed all the notes to a single mind map so I looked at it for a few minutes and then just relaxed.

We were called in and I sat at my table near the back. The rules were explained to us by a shouting woman at the front. It began at ten'o'clock precisely.

First part was to define five terms and psychology and state why they were important. I don't recall all my choices, but I recall: defenses, minimal difference... er, don't know.

Next I had to write an essay, I think it was how the humanistic and psychoanalystical perspective could be considered conflicting.

Lastly, an essay about how the various perspectives can be considered complimentary when considering gender. I hit on a really good thread there and think I might have picked up some points.

Then I came back. The same day I went to Barclays and got my credit card sorted out and they said it will be a few days. I got the debit card sorted out and will get one valid for five years sent to me, via Carly's, in a week. I went to Snappy Snaps and got a horrible looking photo of me as an orange person, then went to the post office. Of course, I didn't have a black pen but found one on the floor, and I applied for a passport (eighty-five pounds), then sent my driving liscence off to be changed.

Things that have happened since then and now?... Well, AirAsia wrote to me and said I could be refunded the hotseat money. I saw Paul, my nephew, yesterday. I was just getting on the bus and he called me Jason and so I didn't get it and was halfway up the escalator until I realised who it was and didn't get to speak to him. I bought more clothes. I spoke to the landlady and got two lots of seven days for 100 pounds each.

There were people, or are people, coming and going at the guest house. An Indian guy called Sameer who arrived direct from Calcutta and is working for an IT company. He moved out yesterday and I bumped into him earlier today. A woman called Eve who can't stop talking. She comes up from the south to visit her son in the lunatic asylum and had a husband who died at 37 from a heart attack, though I don't know if those two facts are linked. There was a family there today who ignored me and were up for a party and talked about how hungover they were.

Yeah, I have met a lot of people actually. I emailed the monastery also. There's a sesshin this week and I reminded them that I usually get a room because of the snoring and Leoma wrote back and we arranged Tuedsay, So I have a ticket down to London Monday and then a night bus up, that'll be a long day, but even more people to meet. Don't know how long I'll be there, perhaps if I go back on Sunday, because they'll be the chance of a lift then.

I tried to see the doctor but they said no because 'my' postcode now is NN7 so I have to find a doctor near Carly, which is weird, I must find out more about the area then. I don't want to turn up in case she thinks I'm being dependent.

Oh, when I phoned Barclaycard, it turned out that, very soon after I left the UK, Brian had been putting my post in the postbox with NOT HERE written on... did I mention that?

I had some snus sent from Sweeden.

Don't know what else. I'll write more another time. The bed is so soft it's killing me, I might sleep on the floor tonight, I'll try it.

Off for now.

Date: Monday 21st June 2010
Moon on the Square, Northampton. 7.05pm.

Oh.. I unexpectedly got an internet connection so was online instead of dd..... sorry dd.

Date: Thursday 24th June 2010
The Cordwainer, nr. Riders' Arcade, Northampton. 7.32pm.

Actually, this place is Llyods now, it used to be a Yates, but hell, it is a lot, lot, lot better than the last time I came in here.

I love sitting here. I love Wetherspoon pubs, though I didn't know how much until recently. I had a couple of really nice afternoons working in them.

So what's happened?

What is it about me? I just can't settle into anywhere. I'm not sure what I think about the guesthouse. The woman, Marcel, runs it with her daughter Teresa. They have three adjacent houses and are originally from the country. One morning, I was chatting and Marcel told me about how she wants to leave the houses to a charity, an anti-abortion one that teaches women chastity. Then she said, 'Maybe you don't agree with that'.

There's a regular there called Steve whom used to go to school with Teresa. Over the weekend, it was full and they moved me to a luxury double. I came down one day and heard them talking about me before I announced myself... and am not sure...

They have a neighbour at number seven. He's a taxi driver and married a Thai twenty years younger than him. She hangs raw meat off the back of the house. She makes so much noise that Teresa had to move and they closed a house down.

There's a place by called Hill View. The owner's horrible and doublebooks people and rips off people's credit cards. He steals other people's guests also.

Carly never brought my post up. So I couldn't get ID's and stuff. I was going to leave it but then realised I'd need the SPSS cd from my previous course for the next one.

My passport and cards are all due Monday, when I'm actually leaving to the monastery. Should I go for a Thai visa while I'm away. They're free in Penang now, but single entry only. The oracle thinks I should go without any visa... which is interesting.

There are no heavily discounted tickets. Cheapest in Bangkok via Delhi with air india, 300, next it's about 350 for KL with Air Asia. A lot more than I was hoping for... but I still have time. The oracle thinks Air asia would be better. Perhaps I'm still going to find a deal?

I saw Paul, Yasmine's youngest, though he called me Jason and I didn't realise who he was until I was already on the escalator to the buses, so I never got to speak to him. At least I haven't bumped into Y. this trip... yet. She usually pretends not to recognise me, and so I'll just keep walking if that should be the case again.

Saw Robert Cadd a few times, today actually, he put on weight, a LOT, full beer gut.

Saw Sameer, from Calcutta, last Sunday, he's living in Northampton house.

Went up to Bell's laundry today, same staff from when I was a kid. I left a tissue in my pocket, but it came out in the dryer OK.

I see A. every other day. When I thought I was dying I decided to say some things to her, I mean, you know, just so it's all said. But, she's not up to it. I notice her hands tremble constantly, which isn't uncommon in the elderly. But, it's, I don't know. There's been a definite deterioration. She can't really understand me so well. It's got to the point that we can't have a proper conversation. I say something to her, and she looks at me for a long time, and says, 'I don't know what you mean.' But then there are stock phrases, which are, 'I don't know', 'I suppose so', and laughing, but the way they are used I could tell that she isn't following or comprehending what I said. It's worse if I say more than one sentence and if I change the subject. I think it's neurological rather than hearing, because it's better if I point at the thing I'm talking about. Also, she couldn't remember how many siblings she has, nor her middle name. So, I just talk very simply about the present moment.

Don't know what to say about it really. She seems happy enough. But that was the last person I really have conversations with. I don't know anyone else to speak at depth with. I'm that alone. But I think we all knew that was coming. I still have DD. I still have Dharma. Actually, perhaps I have more than most?

Never mind.

I'm going to enjoy my soda for five minutes, then get the bus.

Date: Thursday 8th July 2010
The Cordwainer, The Ridings, Town Centre, Northampton, England.
21.22pm.


Ah, where do I start... as you can imaging. I probably can't even remember all of it.

Well, I was staying at the Ardington Road place. There was a lot of worry because Silverstone Racing was coming up for the weekend after I would arrive back, and so everything was booked up accomodation wise. I found out I'd got a special price for the room, basically out of kindness, which kind of humbled me.

I still keep on seeing Robert Cadd everywhere. He just seems to walk around town all day.

Plus the mad woman we used to laugh at at school. She's not so much older than me, and all the times I've ever been here I've seen her alone, walking around, dressed eccentrically. It's not so funny now because I'm not so different.

Anyway, I woke up on the day I was due to leave and gave my key back, then got the bus to town, a tea at Beatties, the last place I relaxed before the last journey, and then got going. The bus arrived at about two pm. I went to Wetherspoon in Victoria. I remember when I was in the main station in Bangkok, thinking how it had the same kind of feel of Victoria, in that exact spot, and I kind of dreaded being there. But I did get there and kind of sat and compared the two. I realised I'd forgotten my alarm clock. I mean, it was on the bus.

I went quickly over to the library and returned my book, and found out where the study books were for the biology course, then went over to Marlybone library and copied what I could. I had bought some camera batteries, which turned out to be flat and so I could do it all bar the last book.

I shot over to Hammersmith to look for St. John's Wort, but was too late and it was closed. Earlier I'd tried to use a phone card I'd bought from click but it wouldn't work. I'd phoned the OU and got my registration forms sent for the advanced creative writing course I'd enrolled on, but had to put cash in the phone. So I went in a call centre but they wouldn't help me. So I went onto the old local pub I was going to once... William Morris, and had a sandwhich that was all cooked wrong. I went to the toilet and they were vandalised and got covered in urine, then I went back to Vicoria.

The bus didn't go until midnight. I asked about my clock and he said the policy is that it will go back to where the bus started from, so it will be in Northampton, and I can get it when I go back if it's been handed in.

At midnight, I got on the bus and had the whole trip before the toilet, which meant that the seat didn't recline, but at least I had two seats to myself. I didn't really sleep though.

When I arrived it was horrible, cold and raining and the floor was slippery and I only had flippies on. I walked all around and wasn't sure where I was supposed to go and eventually ended up dripping wet in a Wetherspoon. I sat there for a good few hours, then walked all around. I went to Argos and bought an alarm clock. I had a spud-u-like and bought some cashews as prasad for the monks. The one that came was different, and inferior, to the one pictured but they refused to change it. I got on the bus to Hexam.

It got there and I arranged a taxi for seven from Allendale, then I walked down to... a Wetherspoon. Japan were playing in the world cup, I think Paraguay or something. It was still 0-0 when I had to leave and I later found out that they lost on penalties.

I walked up and bought a few food bits, then got the Allendale bus.

It arrived and I went to the old pub, The Golden Lion. I didn't recognise the manager. I had a tea and went outside and a woman was driving the taxi. We chatted. The old manager, who worked deliveries also for Tesco, had gone bankrupt, she thinks because there were too many pubs for a small village. We arrived and it had gone up 20 percent and I didn't know if I was being ripped off and so didn't tip and got a snide comment.

I looked awful by now. I walked on and there was a young man with a very educated accent looking out over the trees. I asked if he was resident and he was, and I asked what the schedule was and if I could skip the last meditation and vespers. He seemed really nice and I went upstairs.

I had already spoken to Leoma and was in room four, nearest the toilets. I went in and, basically, felt like I was arriving home. I shaved and showered and went to bed, hoping that no one would disturb me, and they didn't and I slept soundly, with ear plugs due to the ticking from this wretched clock.

OK, I probably can't remember the specific order that everything happened, and so I'll describe each character I came across and various events I recall.

That first nice man I'd met was Adam. He'd done a degree in psychology and went to work in a secure mental institution and had come to Throssel because the hospital had meant he'd lost his faith in Human nature. He was interested in philosophy and I got the feeling that I could have got to know him much better. He was the kind of head boy, leading all the meditations and dealing with the lay rituals. He was lax though. Reverend master was away on retreat in Wales, and some people were only doing half meditations, no grace was said at medicine meal sometimes. I learnt this time, it's called medicine meal because the Buddha said that we weren't to eat after midday, and so this is something for our health and doesn't count as a meal.

Merlye was about fifty-five and had arthritis. She gave me a coveted OBC badge, something I've wanted for a long time, the logo of a ship and three drums. I asked her what it meant and she didn't know but she asked for me during a Q and A with a monk, the three drums are the three refuges and the ship is the vessel that carries us to the far shore. Her husband had his ashes scattered at Throssel, and she has three sons. One of them is a bit directionless, but the other is in Eastern Europe. She was into the quakers. One afternoon it was respite and we had about six hours and we sat and talked for about half of that, I really got on with her. Once, during working meditation in the kitchen she asked if I had a big sister, because I was really easy to blame things on. The interesting thing is that I told her that I didn't. She wask into Quaker stuff also, which was interesting. Once, she talked about a book she had of zen sayings, and a master, concerning right speech, had said, 'My mouth is for eating potatoes'.

Rosetta was a real character. I woke up that first morning and didn't know the schedule, and evidently, neither did she and we were both an hour early. She was about seventy and had converted from Judaism. She followed a light version of the schedule due to her age. She didn't bother doing anything formally and I think it got on a lot of people's nerves, but people made allowances. She used to be a teacher, but I didn't get many hard details, she tended to just talk about, what she thought about things. She was kind of out of synch with people.

Steve was a mad of about thirty five. He spoke loudly and often repeated his sentences, which tended to be simplistic, and I wondered (without asking) if he had some kind of brain damage. He said he worked in a shop for the British Heart Foundation, which I think is unpaid, and so he might be on disability. He was another one who did only half meditations, though I also got the feeling that he didn't understand the schedule.

There was an Australian woman of about fifty there. She was kind of a 'backbone' to everything. Very quiet, looking back, she said almost nothing, but kind of blended in to a background of helpfulness and peace.

Louise was a Danish woman, and very nice. Her husband was in aviation, sorry, I think her boyfriend. When I got sick, she showed the utmost concern, I've rarely had someone be so concerned about me. She was actually sick herself, also on 'half schedule' with a back problem, and sometimes worked in the kitchen with her foot up on a stool. She also complained of headaches, refused to take aspirin and would disappear for long periods. She was so polite to everyone, making the effort to be nice to people who were left out; quite an angel actually.

Helen was a young woman who arrived a couple of days after me; I walked into the novices common room and she was at the table. Only early twenties, very white with blonde hair, she worked in management for the NHS and wanted to do a physics degree with the OU. This was her visit since the introductory, and that might explain her quietness. I did talk to her towards the end and there was talk of me going back to Newcastle with her and her boyfriend, but something else was arranged in the end.

That was all the characters. That first day, I think I put socks on in bed and my right foot was a bit bruised in the morning. Rev. Leandra came and said hello in the ceremony. For work I was given the task of cleaning a caravan.

The next day my right foot was very obviously swollen with a deep red bruise down the side. I was sickened with worry. Louise was horrified and kept telling me to find a doctor. I showed the guest department and a monk who used to be a nurse looked at it and said that can happen sometimes because of the change of weather, but 'run it by a doctor when you can', she did say that she's never seen it in only one foot before. The odd thing is that my left foot went completely normal, less swollen than ever, I can see veins for the first time in a year there. I don't know what this means, but it's worrying. At one point most of the lay people stood round me in a semi-circle giving me advice and staring at it. They changed my job from cleaning cars at that point to the kitchen, with Louise whom was also an invalid.

One day, Rev Gareth, the cook, asked me into his office, and said it has been noticed and commented on that my trousers are falling down all the time and 'there is a gap there at dinner'. Fair enough. But this was awkward as it was he I had been assigned to when I put my name down for spiritual counseling. I worried about it for days; I wanted to talk about my health scare in Asia and how I wanted to make changes to my life, but then I was worried again about my health. I got as far as going to the spiritual interview room. I'd got the impression he was really busy, and when I told him I couldn't do it he seemed so happy.

On the last day, there was a festival. I recognised the Liverpudlian Max from my Jukkai and went and said hello. He remembered me, and said, 'you're from Milton Keynes', which is what I usually tell people as they don't know where Northampton is. It was about some love bodhisattva or something, I don't know. Rev. Leandra arranged a lift for me with a guy called John. There was Indian kind of food and Rev. Chandra came and sat with me. We chatted for about three quarters of an hour. Her father sold furniture and her mother was an office worker. I asked her if there was anyone fully awakened at Throssel, and she said, 'you wouldn't like some of the things that go on', and went on to say that the historical Budhda was symbolic and she didn't think that kind of awakening was possible. I also asked if I could have the pattern to make another kesa, the black bands we wear, and she told me to look after the one I have because she made it for me and the master gave it to me.

I'd read a book from Malaysia there. It was a Dhammapada, but with explanations of each verse. I had no idea, but each verse is condensed from a story from the Buddha's life where he gave some teaching. The one I remember is from 'flowers', about the 'scent of virtue'. A monk was needing to be fed and a god noticed and disguised himself as a lay person to feed him, and the Buddha said that the god was attracted by the scent of his virtue.

A monk as well as Chandra thanked me for the postcards I'd sent. Wilbur seemed cynical that I went to Asia because it's cheaper there.

John was outside cleaning his car and it was time to go. I bought a statue for Carly and some 108 mala beads for me, then went upstairs to say goodbye and did get a picture, but not full resolution, which I'd turned down to copy the prayer book. Then I went down, got in the car and the two of us drove off. Once, in a Q and A leandra had said how hard it can be to come and she had once waited for five hours in a car outside trying to find excuses not to come, and it's strange, but that's exactly how it is.

This John was a local. He'd been to a few other Buddhist places but settled on Throssel. He was a social worker. We chatted generally but there's wasn't time to really get to know him. There were armed police in black helmets on the approach to Newcastle because of some gunman who was killing them. He dropped me in the dead centre, John, not the crazed gunman that is.

I sat in the street and felt... awful. There's always that feeling on leaving, but what can I do? They wouldn't let me live there. I took of the kesa, took of the badge Meryle had given me, and sat for hours in a Whetherspoon. I'd tried to phone for accommodation in Northampton but there was no answer and Campanile were full, so that was something to worry about. I looked at my 108 bead mala and counted 114, and one of them misdrilled, and so that's something I have to fix.

At night I walked down, got some chips, my one indulgence of such in the UK, and walked to the bus. Again, I was about the only person to get two seats alone, but again, I couldn't sleep. We arrived about six am. and I went to wetherspoon, again. I went back to the bus station and did get an answer from a landlady, who would give me a non-attached room for thirty.

I arrived in Northampton. I went to ask about my missing clock and the guy said it wouldn't be here it would be in Milton Keynes head office.

I went over to accommodation. It turned out to be a place I was in before. She gave me an attached room but seemed very standoffish with me and wouldn't commit to renting it for longer, so I didn't push her. It was attached though, and the same room as I had about two years ago, when I recall she was also standoffish.

I went to town, then went to see A. I wanted to get back because there were a lot of transits and I wanted to try and book a ticket I got there and everything was there. I spent an hour going trough two years of post, then found my new credit card, new debit card and returned passport with a one year visa for Thailand. All done and dusted. I also got some snus as I'd ran out.

I went to the Fish pub and got a twenty five pound room from an Irish woman called Valerie. It seemed a bit rough, but I moved into it the next day. She's with a south African called Shane. It's noisy, rough, shabby, but actually I'm OK there for now as I feel relaxed. Funny isn't it?

I went to Tesco yesterday, got some bits. I really need shoes, a bag and a couple of shirts. The forms from the OU are there, and I got an email saying I'd been given a years funding, even though I haven't returned them yet. I'm waiting for an email back to answer my questions before I commit, but the book I need is in Piccadilly; I could get it before I go.

I was looking at tickets today. It will likely be 400, either with Air Asia to KL or someone else to Bangkok. It's just not a cheap thing. The Air Asia website is going down for four days tomorrow for upgrade. It's insane.

I came here to the cordwainer, which used to be Yates, yesterday. I wanted to look at tickets but met this guy called Eddie. It was mad. He was pleasant but wanted to talk about Buddhism, he had split up with his girlfriend, but she was kind of interested in it and I think he wanted me to talk to her, he even got her on the phone but she sounded sober and lukewarm, but it was all night we were talking. He wants us to all meet up on Friday. I wrote a note to his girlfriend, being honest and saying he was seeing someone in me whom I am not, the guy was almost worshiping me. He has my email but I don't know how he'll feel about going through with it when he's sober.

He did notice my foot though, and told me to go to the hospital because it looks like elepantitis.

I phoned the NHS today, and they said I can't register without a permanent address. If I'd ever paid a penny of tax in this country I'd be livid.

... so I'm all calm, happy and nice then.

I must pack up and go to sleep. I'll try again for a ticket, bag and some bits tomorrow and see A. Uhhhhhgggghhhhhh.

Retrospective Update/thoughts
'My House' Guest House and Restaurant, Rambutri Road, Pra Arhit/Banglampoo, Bangkok. 8pm.

For the sake of completeness, I'm going to try and remember what happened to me

Well, I've taken a couple of notes, not really, but there are a couple of things I have jotted down.

One thing was that, I had a dream about Junko, which had a really negative feel as, in the dream, she had changed into such a negative person.

Later that day I was walking through the Ridings Arcade. It reminded me of an arcade near the cinema in Perth that Junko and I walked through and I recalled her walking through with me and telling me about the plot of the film 'Muriel's Wedding'.

Just as I was thinking that, I passed my 'sister'. I only saw her out the corner of my eye and didn't turn to her as she was with other people, and let's be frank, I don't want to see her particularly.

But it was funny, the way it tied into the dream.

The other thing that happened was that I was sitting in Moon on the Square and this woman of about my age walked past. The MINUTE I saw her, I thought 'Karen'. An image of the woman as a five year old came to me, and the essense of the character of her face was obvious. I'd been to primary school with her. Absolutely no doubt about it.

OK, so that's the end of my notes. What else happened. Well, my foot stayed about the same. I kept looking for a ticket and realised that it just isn't going to get cheaper than 400, and I have to put that one down to experience. So I was sitting in the Eastgate and decided on Oman Air, from Asda Travel. I bought it and all was well.

I emailed the next day, doing my Buddhist bit, and asked for vegetarian food, and with the reply to confirm that I could have it, she added that I'd need to have a return ticket to be allowed to board the plane.

What a mess. I had to email adsa, I went on the message boards, messages came back and forth from Oman. It turns out, it was just some office idiot who's sent me a standard piece of advice without checking my particular visa.

Of course, in the end I'd gone for the full one year non-immigrant visa catagory O. So in the end it was all settled, but there was some worry along the way, and it was all caused by someone who didn't know their job.

There are more things to write... but I'm certain I've done so and stored it online somewhere. I'll look tomorrow. I have a feeling it's stored at rediffmail.