Friday, 6 January 2017 to Thursday, 12 January 2017
It rained… and then it petered out to a drizzle… and then it intensified into an all-out watery attack, and then… so it went in cycles, cycle after cycle, it never did stop raining. We were housebound, I cannot recall ever having done so much nothing in my life.

Yesterday we started watching a Swedish series called 30° i februari which translates to 30 Degrees In February. IMDb describes it as a “Series about people escaping their cold winter homeland looking for happiness in sunny Thailand but getting more than they hoped for.” It covers the separate lives of three different families who at different points in time, in some or other way, link up during the course of the 20 episodes. I did not have high hopes of enjoying the series, especially because it is subtitled – not a great fan – but I was pleasantly surprised. I truly enjoyed the series and can really recommend it. And yes, we watched all 20 episodes during the course of yesterday and today, we were housebound, remember!

We finished watching the final episode just as suppertime arrived. There was still a slight drizzle in the air, a change from the forces of nature that prevailed all day, so we decided to have supper out on the balcony. Adri went outside ostensibly to wipe the table and chairs dry for us to sit on but actually she only dried the table for the food. I only realized this when I made a splash in my plastic bucket type chair noticing too late that the bucket was still full of water. I got a drenching, right down to the bottom.

Fortunately I had a change of clothes at the ready after wetting my pants so supper could continue. Tonight’s supper was tuna on crackers and olives; those were the last of our ingredients. We did contemplate going out for supper but Adri was not yet ready to face the sad state of the roads on the bike which we suspected lay in wait for us. Either way, tomorrow we would have to face the roads, the fridge and cupboards were fresh out of ideas for our next supper.

While I was busy doing so much nothing a crappy thought entered my head, something that weirdly nobody ever talks about. Thailand has so much going for it but if there is one criticism I have it would be the sewerage problem which is prevalent throughout most of Thailand. It is of course not that it is with you all the time, of course not, but it does enter your senses more often than is desirable. Riding on the bike you will pass a short stretch of road that smells to high heavens but then those sweet island smells would appear once again. It’s not that it bothers one much, it just would have been so much better without it.

Not surprisingly I woke up to rain on Saturday morning… Adri says she woke up at 02:30 with ferocious winds and rain lashing at our door. I was sound asleep, I knew nothing. In fact, I knew so little, I woke up thinking it was Friday, somewhere I must have lost a day and then I remembered yesterday being spent binge watching 30 Degrees In February. Wow, but it was so relaxing.

There was a 100% forecast for rain during the night until midday, and the forecast was spot-on. After midday, soft ever-present rain had set in, not as angry as the waves of rain that had been prevalent this morning.

It rained all day but by 18:00 we saw a gap in the weather when it stopped raining completely, this was our opportunity to get food. We rode off into the sunset that was not visible, but it was great to be on the bike and out of doors for a change. We took a turn via the Big Buddha; we then backtracked to the Bang Rak Saturday market which was toned down somewhat due to the rain.

While Adri was collecting our meal from the various stalls I went across the road to 7/11 for an ice cold big Chang as the beer stall did not make a showing tonight. No sooner had we started our supper when a light drizzle began to fall which was perfectly fine but shortly thereafter it turned into a gentle but persistent light rain. We moved from our rickety table and chairs we occupied to sit under roof on the steps of a boutique hotel to complete our supper. And may I say; supper was super.

We had a papaya salad with three chilies which were not quite enough; there should have been five in there. We had a lovely deep fried seafood omelette as well as a huge chicken spring roll. Dessert tonight was rather remarkable. There was a thin crusted roti with chocolate, condensed milk and cashew nuts which was awesome. Then we had a dark chocolate waffle with Nutella thickly spread all over that puppy! Man, it felt like I was once again back on the Grand Place in Brussels savouring a Belgian chocolate treat.

Flights to Samui were apparently suspended for a day or two due to the rain. While we were sitting there on the steps of our boutique hotel we noticed a plane landing at the airport a short way away about every 10 minutes. Obviously Bangkok Air was trying to get back on schedule.

Tonight we watched a movie called Consumed which is about Genetically Modified Organisms (GMO). IMDb describes it as “When her son’s persistent rash won’t subside, a mother begins investigating and finds herself pulled into the battle between small town organic farmers and Clonestra, a corporation profiting from GMOs.” Although the message about GMO is somewhat brought home, the movie was rather pathetic and the acting was right in line with that assessment. Watch it at your own peril.

Be as it may, it did have me googling about GMO and there really does seem to be a case to ban GMOs or at least inform customers by properly labeling products that do contain it. This would at least empower customer to decide whether they want to consume GMO products or not. But of course big business is highly against labeling for obvious financial reasons so they spend millions or billions on court cases to ensure that labeling does not become law. Here is a list of countries that require labeling and I am happy to report that SA in one of them. Notably absent from this list is the US and Canada, ag nee sies man! (Oh no sis man!) Is there too much money from big business going into politicians’ pockets?

We were intent on going to the gym Sunday morning but it was raining so hard, we decided to have breakfast instead. It was a few hours later in much less rain that we finally ventured down to the gym. As per my normal routine, I started with a 20 minute session on the exercise bike. I was easing into my bike ride and at around six minutes I started feeling uncomfortable. I had this odd sensation that someone had just placed a train, fully loaded mind you, onto my chest. I continued hoping for it to depart this station but those bastards added another two fully loaded wagons.

I got off the bike, lugging that train with me, and tried a few soothing stretching yoga moves.  But the pressure remained and I was starting to feel faint from the pain. I was breaking out it a cold sweat, not knowing whether it was from the exercise, the pain, or the anxiety that engulfed me. Or could it be from the heart attack I was having…?

I walked over to where Adri was walking, on the treadmill, and before I could say anything she mentioned that I was as white as a sheet, a brilliantly white sheet that is. We walked back to the apartment and I had to concentrate to put one foot in front of the other. I fell onto the bed and lay there for a while, hardly moving, hoping for the departure of this train, but true to form, it was delayed.

A few hours later I felt slightly better; enough so to venture down to the complex’s restaurant for supper. My chest was still feeling very tight but better, still very uncomfortable though.

When I ordered a beer with my supper Adri said “What! In your condition? No!” I countered with “Are you really going to deprive me of what may be my very last beer on earth?” not knowing whether I was going to make it through the night, of course. That was a sly but effective move on my side and I won this particular battle. I had what could be my last Singha on earth.

When I got home I was feeling well enough to start Googling symptoms of heart attacks, ECGs, hospitals on Koh Samui and the like, interesting stuff but also rather scary. Could it be a heart attack that made itself uncomfortable in my body? I fear it was a definite possibility and the only way to prove or disprove it would be to have an ECG.

I read one account of an expat on the island who thought he had a heart attack and had an ECG performed at the Thai International Hospital. The ECG was inconclusive so they referred him to the Bangkok Hospital where they have a very good heart specialist. There they did further tests and, without informing him of his condition, suggested that he stay overnight in the hospital’s ICU. Only when enquiring he was told that he did not have a heart attack, they just wanted to monitor him. It was 04:00 in the morning and the cost of the overnight ICU monitoring was quoted at a cool 46 000 baht! Yup, you read that right, with all the zeros. Obviously he refused, it was outrageous.

It is sad to note that the medical industry is so driven by their bottom line profits that I fear they had forgotten that their customers are human beings and not things. That premise of being there for the patient at all costs has turned into the patient being there for them, at all costs. It is sad but unfortunately true that these medical monsters prowl on your health, using scare tactics and what not, to force every dime they possibly can out of you. A truly despicable lot… there are of course many exceptions…

On the same subject of medical monsters, just other day I had heart burn and needed something to extinguish that fire. The pharmacist pointed to the Gaviscon and I winced, I’ve tried that years before and hated the way it seemed to swell up in your through as you chew on that tablet, rather revolting. I initially refused it but there was nothing else so I would have to make do. Without even a hint of shame the lady announced that I owed her 460 baht for, I don’t know, maybe 10 tablets. The fire inside was getting to boiling point as I took out the baht to participate in this highway robbery.

It was Adri who brought everybody back to their senses with a “That’s too much, is there really nothing else?” still not showing any shame the same lady walked over to the same rack and right next to the Gaviscon she picked up a Thai brand of antacid tablets at… wait for it… 10 baht for 10 tablets. This relentless taking advantage of farangs must stop, it really is nauseating. By the way, this was not the first time we had experienced this scenario, it is all too common. And by the way, those Antacil were just fantastic.

Anyways, back with the 46 000 baht guy. Later the same day he went to the Government Koh Samui Hospital in Nathon and presented them with his ECG results and tests. They did another ECG and also suggested he stay overnight to be monitored for the princely sum of 1200 baht. And he had a sea view room nogal (mind you)! Now the government hospital is obviously not as fancy as the private hospitals on the island but their medical staff are as good. I decided that should I feel the need to go to a hospital in the morning this was where I would be heading as a start. I would not be going to one of those shark infested hospitals that are out to maximise profit, withdrawing cash from unsuspecting farang, not unlike withdrawing cash at will from an ATM.

By the time we switched the lights off the discomfort had eased slightly but it still felt like someone was giving me a bear hug, but far too strong, very uncomfortable indeed.

When I woke up on Monday morning I could have sworn I saw sunlight through the curtains. “Uh, oh”, I thought “Are the pearly gates beyond that shining light?” But no, as I drew the curtains there were a few struggling rays of sunshine peering through a mass of cloud. It was not long after that that the sun appeared in its blazing glory. “I really missed you old chap” I said to no one in particular. While texting Didier a while later I mentioned that I thought the sun had died and he replied “No, he was just sleeping, he is awake now”, and I was so grateful for that.

Although the pain in my chest was less today it was still very much prevalent, so we decided to make the trip to the hospital in Nathon and arrived there after an extortionary taxi ride of 700 baht. I wanted to take the bike, Adri refused again with a “What! In your condition? No!” She won this particular battle.

I was pointed in the direction of a table where an admin lady seemed to be directing traffic. Without saying a word she pointed us in a not very exact direction. We ended up nowhere; there were an array of cubicles and people, but which one was she pointing to? Adri spoke to one of the cubicles who informed her that we first had to register after completing the provided registration form. And by the way, there was one in English as well.

After being registered on their system I was provided with a bunch of papers and sent to the nurse that sat next to the traffic directing lady. There was no clear queue to stand in so I walked up to this nors (surly) nurse. Without looking at me she waved me away, pointing in a direction and hurled a flurry of Thai my way. We finally determined that, before any process can get under way, you have to have your blood pressure taken. There are these neat little machines where you stick your arm though a little tunnel, press start and it starts the process of inflating and deflating that tunnel to take your reading. Once it is done with you it automatically spits out the results onto a piece of paper which is what the nurse required.

Back at the nors nurse I was once again waved away without a word this time, to sit down on the chairs to the right of her. Now what? The young Thai girl sitting next to us gave us a lovely smile and said, in good English, that the nurse will be with us soon and that we may place our documentation in the pretty little pink plastic basket on the nurse’s desk. Now in situations like this you swallow your pride, your arrogance, and any other negatives that may be prevalent, smile and be humble, which is exactly what I did. And of course there was also that tiny matter that I did not want to upset my heart. No sooner had my papers settled in their little nest when I was called forward. The nurse had found her English and requested what the problem was. I explained about the chest plains and all and that I would like to have an ECG done.

She scribbled on a piece of paper, stapled it to the by now growing little pile and sent me off to a counter number. Each desk, cubicle, office and/or examination room have its own unique number which is a rather cool setup; there is no way anyone can get confused as to where they should be heading.

I arrived at number 30 – which happened to be the examination room – handed in my papers and sat in the confusing queue but 10 minutes later I was motioned over to enter. I got hooked up to the ECG machine mimicking a Frankenstein sans the bolts through the forehead. Ten minutes later I left with the ECG printout added to my little pile and was sent to number 10. A lady there looked at my papers and told me to take a seat in front of number 6. Ten minutes later after two batches of people had exited, I entered number 6.

The doctor – a friendly chap in his mid thirties with good English – studied my ECG results subsequent to my giving him the background to my trip there. A deep frown was forming ever so gradually on his forehead… this is not what I wanted to see. He then turned his attention to the blood pressure slip and the frown deepened. “Uh oh!” He then looked up at me, smiled, and said “The ECG is perfect, your blood pressure is perfect, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you”. “But… but… but…”  I started to protest against my better will but he assured me everything was fine, I probably just pulled a muscle of some sort in my chest. It was truly such a relief, it felt like I had received a second life, got reincarnated; thankfully back into myself and not into a skunk, or a pig, or a politician.

After thanking the doctor profusely for the good news he told us to proceed to number 14. We arrived at number 14 – the cashier – handed in my paperwork and a minute later were presented with a bill with a grand total of 800 baht… the best 800 baht I had spent my entire life!!

With a huppel in my stuppel (spring in my step) and a song in my healthy heart I walked out of there and did not mind the 600 baht taxi fare home. No sooner had we arrived home when we remembered that we had not had breakfast, so decided to have lunch instead. It was at around 13:30 when we stopped in front of The Wine Connection where we went for Adri’s birthday a few days ago. They have a lunch special whereby you can order pasta or a pizza, and a salad or a dessert, for 249 baht per person. Together we ordered one of each, a Greek salad, chorizo pasta, a pepperoni pizza and a toffee cheesecake. We shared all the dishes and once again, we were highly impressed with the quality of the food, simply love this place… And so we celebrated my reincarnated life.

We walked around the Central Festival shopping centre as the rain had started up again and went to Adri’s bank to have her lost ATM card replaced, and yes, it was probably I who lost it. Ten minutes and 150 baht later we were out of there with a fresh card, no hassle, no stress.

The rain had subsided so we headed home. I think we caught up with the rain that had just moved over Chaweng and by the time we reached the Bophut/Choeng Mon road it was bucketing down so hard, the water could not drain from my eyes, rendering me near blind on the road. We stopped off at the Premier Sports Bar, ordered a beer and a coffee and waited out the rain.

A young British couple came in, and like us, they were seeking refuge from the deluge. They are from the island of Jersey and had booked their trip a year ago, hoping to have sun and sea and sand, all they got was rain and rain and rain. But they took it in their stride and after a pleasant chat they headed off to Fisherman’s Village.

We did not have supper, there was no way we could face anything after our substantial lunch. We watched a movie called Inside Man with Denzel Washington, Clive Owen and Jodie Foster which is described by IMDb as “A police detective, a bank robber, and a high-power broker enter high-stakes negotiations after the criminal’s brilliant heist spirals into a hostage situation.” A rather watchable movie but this theme had been overused in the past so the movie felt strangely familiar, as if we had seen it before…

Tuesday morning the cloud cover was still thick with the rain coming and going in quick succession. Adri suggested we go to the gym but I was not yet ready to face my tormentors of a day or so ago, so I continued blogging and getting ready to publish while Adri braved the machines.

Later in the day, although the cloud-cover was still very thick it had stopped raining and I could not help but wonder whether there was any water left up there. It was just past midday that we went for breakfast at the Coffee House Restaurant in Bang Rak. Now previously we liked the Coffee Cup Restaurant down the road but we had it on good authority that the House was a better bet than the Cup. We both ordered the Boere breakfast (Farmer’s breakfast) which came with two eggs done any way you like it, bacon, sautéed potatoes, lovely farang type bread, butter, jam, orange juice and an amazing Americano. Wonderful!

From breakfast we went to the Tesco and the Big C shopping centres looking for items we needed but we weren’t too successful I’m afraid. After Tesco we went to Fi next door, our favourite Greek restaurant, to say hallo to Christos and also to buy some Greek yogurt. By the time we left it had started raining again so we donned our rain jackets and no sooner had we gotten home and there was another deluge of rain that lasted the rest of the afternoon.

We went to the Samui Pier Restaurant in Bang Rak for supper which is right across the road from the Coffee House where we had breakfast. As we got on the bike to leave the rain started up yet again and by the time we reached the restaurant it was bucketing down. We had a lovely Thai inspired supper and fortunately by the time we left the rain had disappeared, so we had a dry run home.

Wednesday was a beautiful sunny day, there were still clouds around but the sun was out, and it was enjoying it as much as us.

We met Nutty and Rene at The Baguette Bar at the western end of Fisherman’s Village at 15:00 for a tipple or two. Wow, it was so great to see these two again, who by the way also seemed to have gotten younger since last year. This island life is surely agreeing well with all the people we know here.

You may remember that we went to Nutty and Rene’s house blessing last November where I partook in too many beers and cocktails and… Man, that was such a great day! With this in mind I was quite surprise to see that I was the only one that initially ordered alcohol; 15:00 was seen as far too early to drink. I was not going to be put off by that, never have, never will. I have on occasion started much earlier than that in my life and I’m still okay… really. All good intentions though come to an end and by the time I ordered my second beer, Rene ordered his first.

We had a lovely time and when it was time to go Rene insisted on paying the bill so I had to reciprocate. And the fact that we would not be around for much longer we needed to do it right now! We crossed the little road to the pub right on the beach and ordered drinks, and again, and again. It was dark when we finally made our jolly ways home.

 

 

Rene told us about a little restaurant called Ackim’s – situated close to the airport road – that apparently makes the best kebab, or Shawarma. To find the restaurant “Just look for the place that have a row of yellow bottles hanging in front of it”, Rene advised, and we managed to find it quite easily on that description. Ackim – pronounced Agiem, with a guttural “G” – is German and runs the little makeshift restaurant with his Thai wife. He has three, no four items on the menu, kebab, German sausage, pork burger and chips. Adri ordered the kebab and I the pork burger with a helping of chips, both were just marvellous.

While feasting a song that I have not heard in a long while came over Ackim’s sound system, Juliet by the Bee Gees, take a listen to it below.

With us having been out all day without wifi readily available I only got Didier’s message to go for drinks and supper when we arrived home at 21:00, after having had just that a few minutes ago. Man, I was really distraught that we missed Didier for one last drink before he flies off to France in the morning. But, as he quite correctly texted “Not to worry, we’ll see each other in Sète in two month’s time.”

Today I read an interesting article on CNN about Trump gaslighting the American people. And if you have not heard the term before, like me, it is explained in the article as “The term comes from the 1930s play ‘Gas Light’ and the 1940s Hollywood movie version (Gaslight) in which a manipulative husband tries to unmoor his wife, played by Ingrid Bergman, by tampering with her perception of reality. He dims the gaslights and then pretends it’s only she who thinks they are flickering as the rooms grow darker. That’s only the beginning. He uses a variety of truth-blurring techniques. His goal is to exert power and control by creating doubts about what is real and what isn’t, distracting her as he attempts to steal precious jewels.” And that, I am afraid to say, is exactly what Trump is busy doing, stealing the precious jewels from the American people.

On Thursday morning we were met by a gloriously shining sun. I got busy with blogging and before too long published another one of my catch-up blogs, really getting close to being up to date now.

Today I faced my nemesis after the turn I had the other day… the exercise bike. After my fake heart attack scare of Sunday Adri cautiously asked whether I wanted to join her in the gym for a short workout. I cautiously accepted and cautiously started trapping (pedalling) that bike at a level set at one. Fifteen minutes later I upped the level to two and three and eventually up to eight, keeping my heart rate under 120… you know, just for in case. It’s only when I got off the bike that I noticed for the first time the name or make of the exercise bike. It’s a Life Cycle, and it sure was. Anyway, all’s well that ends well and it all ended well; I was back, reincarnated and all!

We could not leave Samui and not go to Samons, a little restaurant that Andre and Thea had introduced us to previously. When we arrived at the prescribed time of 18:30 they, together with Wayne and Joy, were already seated. As I sat down next to Andre he clandestinely handed me a parcel, literally under the table, with his right index finger across his lips, the universal sign for shht… I felt the parcel, under the table, and the shape had a very familiar feel to it, I could not quite place it at first. And then it struck me like lightning… Biltong!! (Dried meat!!) Andre makes his own biltong from time to time and this time he had the good sense to share. I am so glad he has good sense. No matter how much we tried to conceal this contraband Adri cottoned on to it very quickly, must have been that wonderful aroma permeating the air, so I would also have to share, just like Andre did… Damn.

We had a wonderful supper; some had chicken schnitzels with various sauces while others had main course salads, each the size of a small country. The food as always was just perfect. We had a great evening and before too long we said our sad goodbyes, it would be the last time we would see these guys for a while.

 

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