The Dangers of Partying with 70 Year Olds in New Zealand

There is Ibiza. There is Phi Phi. There is Reyjkavik and Prague and Porta Banus. These party capitals of the world where adolescents, and pre-nuptial, and pre-natal "me" generationers think they are "it" and that they have "arrived", partying and clubbing and raving until another time zone has been achieved. But The Nav - having lived and loved and survived close to 5 decades, 4 continents, a myriad of countries, and a melange of night spots will die knowing just one thing. You haven't truelly lived unless you've partied with a big band of superannuant 70 year olds !

This statement is probably met by a look of consternation, confusion, and cynicism,

but recently The Nav attended 'The Party to End All Parties' in "Godzone Country", and he shares the shenanigans by seniors with you now

(The Nav's Ed Note : Godzone Country is short for God's Own Country, or if you are a New Zealander we know it as New Zealand)

In Hong Kong a large manila envelope arrived on The Nav's desk at work. Opening it he realized it was an invitation to his Mum's 70th birthday party in Auckland New Zealand. Looking at his diary he realized that he had the whole week-end free. Looking at the Cathay Pacific web-site he realized he could get air miles seats. Looking at life he still thought no, 11,000 miles in 3 days to have a quick knees up with some sozzled superannuants!? What a crazy thought! Totally irresponsible! And then his Mum phoned

"Hello darling. How are you? Did you get my birthday party invite? Did you like the Africa / New Zealand theme ? My one connection with Kenya in my childhood I'm afraid. I know you can't make it but your father and I just wanted to make sure all our children were invited. Your father's organized caterers, there are over 50 of our friends coming, and we've rented a juke-box!"

Now The Nav's had alot of invites to soirees in his time, some good, some bad, and some he can't remember - but that last statement was the clincher! A jukebox, in our family garden, the vision of over 50 superannuants dressed up like Travolta and Newton-John doing "The Chicken Walk" and "The Fever".

A knock at the front door, the local constabulary entering and asking that the music be turned down as there have been complaints from local teenagers saying they have to work in the morning and can we knock off all the racket

A cabal of male, whisky-fuelled, testosterone tanked retired professionals and company executives and entrepreneurs heckling the police with "Bugger off!", and "Bunch of blouses!" and "Bloody party poopers!" While the women upstairs, ready to riot, busily trying to figure out how to make Molotov Cocktails using the remaining vodka sea-breeze. This The Nav just had too see. He had to be there! Another mission beckoned

And so unbeknownst to his folks The Nav snuck down to Auckland via the jet stream. Arriving in this largest Polynesian city on Earth on a Saturday afternoon, on one of those glorious sunny warm and balmy Spring days when the main odour around town is freshly mowed lawn, The Nav climbed into a local taxi and was driven to his familial home. Bags in hand and kitted out in a big red birthday bow he knocked on the front door and was greeted by his beaming mother. "Happy birthday Mum." "Oh Freddy, you came."

(The Nav's Ed Note : The Nav and his siblings were named Charlie, Fred, George, and Paddy during our Mum's pregnancies before each of our births as a point of reference and before we had formal names and birth certificates. 'Fred', or on occasion ‘Freddy’, was the only name that stuck - which probably explains a lot of things about The Nav)

That Saturday afternoon was spent in the garden chatting and catching up over more than one beer and more than one wine. The jukebox was delivered and set-up, test run, and it had our small party partying a day early. And then at about 8pm The Nav passed out

And what about that jukebox? A stunning piece of hi-tech musicory more a self-contained purveyor of sound to people on 'e' and 'p' and 'ecstacy' than a temple to Bill Haley or Cliff Richards. Powered by Microsoft software, with thousands of favourite tunes sorted under such headings as 'Acid Jazz', 'House', 'Dance', and 'Euro', The Nav knew that this would be a rave to remember - his Mum and Dad pointing out the outside patio area where the "Line Dancing" would take place while The Nav reflected on how you line dance to 'House' music and 'Acid Jazz'

The following morning was breakfast and setting up and more sleep while recovering from jet lag. His Mum opening her family birthday gifts with many birthday cards, The Nav's favourite being -

"To hell with growing old gracefully. Let's have facelifts until our earlobes meet!"

Sunday was a day of setting up.

The bar, the garden, the food, the loos, and That Jukebox. And then at 4pm the superannuant “rolling thunder” began with herds of partyers descending on the garden and things were off. Dozens of bottles of champagnoise bubbly and sauvignon blanc and chardonnay and ‘Steinlager’ and ‘Stella Artoise’ warmed up the cockles of these many hearts. Two massive salmon had been smoked by The Nav’s Dad and these were scoffed in short order. Some singing, that line dancing, and a lot of loud banter ensued. But by 8pm it was over, the many guests swaying to their cars ready to run the gauntlet of Auckland's notorious traffic police

And afterwards a few hours tidying up, with The Nav's Dad dressed as from China's Boxer Rebellion in the 1850's, busily dropping empty bottles around the neighbourhood’s neighbours’ bottle bins, as our homes 44 gallon bin was full to the gunwales!

Then a quiet Monday morning, ham and eggs and tea. A lift to the airport. Tearful good-byes but with a reminder we would see each other again in six weeks for our extended families Christmas New Year reunion - soon to be reported on by The Nav as "A Swinging time in Singapore, and how to break the law but still avoid Changi Prison". Onto the Cathay Pacific 747 and then the long trek back to Hong Kong via that jet stream

So why did The Nav do it, this once in a life-time moment of travelling insanity? Several reasons really. He's not a Buddhist so he believes we only live once. He needs to fight for the honour of being the 'favourite child' so he can eventually get his hands on his parents stunning rosewood dining table from China. He lives for the term 'Carpe Deum', or 'Seize the Day'. But most importantly most of us only have one Mum in our lives, and The Nav loves his Mum deeply and with abandon

And if you our valued reader still don't agree that superannuant parties rock? Try it! They'll kill you - or they'll die trying!

Somehow safely back in Hong Kong wrapped up, chained-up, and signing out from his padded cell suffering from the combined affects of altitude, alcohol, jet-lag, lack of sleep, and too much of the cha cha and tango. The Nav's sais sayonara to his new 70 year old sweet hearts

Hong Kong Singers Carol Singing 2008 – Cherubims & Seraphims Not

There is the roof-raising Handel's Hallelujah Chorus in his 'Messiah', Puccini's haunting 'Un Bel de Vedremo' from Madam Butterfly, and Beethoven's climaxing 4th Movement in his ‘9th Symphony’. These broad, sweeping choral musical masterpieces wrench at our hearts, cause us to pause with eyes closed but heads pointed upwards towards the heavens, and make us feel as though we could have built the Pyramids of Giza alone - in just one day!

And then there is the Hong Kong Singers Christmas Carols Choir. This annual band of motley singers and musos - on various a pilgrimage, a crusade, or a haj - to seek musical fulfillment in the name of Christ Our Father, Saint Nicholas, and The Guinness Clan late of St James Gate Dublin Ireland. With the latter said Clan topping the list of financial beneficiaries of Hong Kong Singers wallets and by default disposable incomes in what is traditionally "The 2nd Half of the Rehearsal"

After a "1st Half" slaving away as trebles, and altos, and tenors and basses - voices across the board emasculated over the course of two hours of rehearsing various Christmas classics - the Musical Director hammering away at an old piano that was last tuned during 'The Boxer Rebellion' of 1900; the motley crew of Singers musos with great relief move on to that much anticipated "2nd Half"

Sometimes 'Grappa's Restaurant and Bar' in Central HK, but often ‘Bulldogs Bar’ in Lan Kwai Fong Hong Kong. Where the Queen Bee 'Jools' is able to, with the help of the Dame and Doyen ‘Karine’, and with absolutely no resistance from that totally responsible icon of Hong Education and Musical Director 'Andy' - pull a pint for all parties at happy hour prices, night, day, and even during Ramadan !

But how does it all start. Well weeks before, when Hong Kong's Party Season has barely begun, the Queen, Doyen, and Director advertise, email, telemarket, and use carrier pigeons to entice this motley lot - "The 4 Principal Parts Horsemen of the Apocalypse of Carols" - to show at the Glenealy School Hall in Hong Kong for initial Monday night rehearsals. After "cajoling this a herd of tone deaf chaff" into submission, new techniques are then used such as those similar to British naval press-gangs, Rome's enslavement of the Gauls, and threats of Chinese water torture to ensure another army of semi-harmonious singers with fine vocal chords but no charisma show for the CD recording - with these 'ringers' recorded and then banished to the dustbin of the "Ghosts of Singers Christmas Carols Past"

And then the true test begins. Having been battered, bruised, and buried in rehearsing such classics as 'The First Noel', 'O Come All Ye Faithful', and 'Silent Night', our "tone deaf chaff" are then thrown to the four winds to fend for themselves at the Discovery Bay Marina Club, Grappa's Central, the Shek-O Golf & Country Club, Saint John's Cathedral, and the Royal Hong Kong Yacht Club. Bravely but ultimately futiley seeking to beat God at his own game - gloriously praising His and his Son’s almighty and their glory on high and on earth. The "chaff" already knowing full well that the 'Supreme Being' already has a heavenly choir of cherubim and seraphim on his generous pay roll to serenade him in perpetuity

But also fully knowing that although The Hong Kong Singers may as one sound like a band of wailing banshees by comparison to those celestial angels, we have access to the one thing that the Lord would never allow into Heaven. The black gold - Guinness. And for this one piece of luck heaven can take all the cherubims' and seraphims' they can squeeze through the pearly gates because as the old saying goes, "One pint of the black stuff and you can take on the world. Two pints and you can take on God himself !"

This is The Nav. Supping a pint or two of the black Irish gold with his fellow HK Singers "chaff", tipping his hat, and winking at an enviously sober Lord above most un-high

All Blacks vs Wallabies HK Rugby Bledisloe Cup Test Match - The Big One!

This is it. The Big One. The day New Zealand and Australia would play a Bledisloe Cup match outside of their home countries for the first time in history. And what a day it would prove to be

(The Nav’s Ed Note : Rugby Union's Bledisloe Cup is contested by Australia's Wallabies and New Zealand's All Blacks. It is named for Lord Bledisloe, the Governor-General of New Zealand who donated the trophy in 1931. Once played irregularly every few years, Bledisloe Cup matches now happen annually, and include 'Tri-Nations Rugby Tournament' fixtures between the two sides)

And what a location. Hong Kong. The city of lights, dodgy ‘dai pai dongs’, and never say die taxi drivers

(The Nav's Ed Note : a ‘dai pai dong’ is a local HK open air Chinese food stall. They come in all shapes, sizes, and Chinese cuisine types but they do have one common thread - lashings of Monosodium Glutamate or MSG for short)

After a night on the tiles celebrating Halloween, The Nav awoke to a raging hangover, a mouth that felt like a quarry, and a sense of trepidation about the drinking ahead, because like theatre, rugby is about 4 hours of imbibing in a pre-match build-up, 80 minutes play on the field, and then 8 hours of imbibing afterwards

Having managed to scrounge a ‘Gold Ticket’ to the game from his South African mate - hereto named ‘Yahps’ - who had a high profile in HK rugby, The Nav also managed to scrounge his way into "The Long Lunch" at the Hong Kong Football Club (HKFC) through his other high profile Irish mate hosting the event - hereto named ‘Murphs’

And it was a very long lunch. Almost four hours of beer and rugby stories and banter, interspersed with quite a bit of bad language and as always a magnificent buffet put on by the HKFC. Barbs flew, banter was sharp, and generally good-natured abuse was the theme for the event. But all in all rugby and the Hong Kong food service industry were the winners on the day.

After “The Long Lunch”, The Nav scrounged his way into the New Zealand ‘Sacred Hill Winery’ hospitality VIP area through his good mate ‘Gav’ - a doyen of high living in HK; he of the beige Chinos, first class air travel, and the mantra "Style is Everything!" Several speakers and more beers later, it was time. Time for The Nav to wander his way up to his seat. His mate ‘Yahps’ had said "Great seat man! It’s right on the half-way line so you'll have a great view!". What ‘Yahps’ had forgotten to tell The Nav was to bring oxygen! Up stairs, then escalators, then walkways, through a long tunnel a la the Rome coliseum, then even more stairs climbed, and there it was - section 308, row 29, seat 13. Several hundred feet up

Although The Nav didn't have that telescope normally carried with all of his global navigation maps, equipment, and paraphernalia, the view was stunning and the atmosphere electric. What made the game even better was the banter The Nav discoursed with his new mates Isaac, Patrick, and Benjamin from the Rainbow Nation - late of the Pretoria Rugby Footbal Club. Membership 480

These fab lads had flown up Thursday that week just to see history made, and were flying back to South Africa on the following Monday. A lot of general rugby talk happened, analysis of pros and cons of each of our home nation's rugby playing capabilities - but mostly admiration for the others sporting prowess. We did agree on one thing. Both our countries hate losing to the Aussies. It also transpired that they also knew ‘Yahps’ and had got their tickets - sans that oxygen - through him as well. During the banter The Nav enquired about how these lads were enjoying Hong Kong's legendary night-life

The Nav

"Did you have a big night out last night?"

Isaac

"Yes."

The Nav

"What time did you get home?"



Isaac

"I don't know, I didn't look."

The Nav

"Was the sun shining this morning?"

Isaac

"I don't know I didn't look?"

And so the game commenced. Backwards and forwards, across and over, the game swayed from end to end. Until after 80 minutes the mighty All Blacks proved victorious 19 - 14 over the magnificent Wallabies. And then it was on for dinner at the world famous Fung Shing Chinese Restaurant, Ground Floor, 30 Leighton Road, Causeway Bay. Previously named 'The Pine and Bamboo', but called 'The Rat and Cockroach' by one of The Nav's dining buddies because of its great food, dodgy kitchen, and low ceilings

Several hours later, the wine rack emptied, a Maori Haka performed and scaring away all the Cantonese custom, with conversations completed that would never be remembered, this band of rugby roustabouts enjoyed that one thing that brings all rugby-heads together - a sing-a-long. Thankfully the restaurant staff had all gone home and there was just the poor security guard hiding in the back alley. Being a table of Kiwis, Aussies, English, and Irish, the singing was passionate but at times bellicose, with at one stage one wag calling -

Wag

“Sing Mick, Sing!”

Mick

"Oh no, but I'm making sh*t up."

Wag

“But you're an Australian! You make alot of sh*t up!"

Finally the meal was finished, the diners were done-in, and we all made our way home to the four corners of Hong Kong. Tomorrow was another day and another story about life in this town of “Buzz”. But this night The Nav would sleep well knowing that the All Black’s had vanquished the Old Wallaby foe, and life would again be fine on the morrow

This is The Nav. Happy to have knocked those Ocker buggers from their high chairs

All That is Wonderful About Halloween in Hong Kong

Hong Kong was recently voted the "most desirable travel hub in the world", where people traveling from Lagos to London or Buenos Aires to Boston would most love to hub through Hong Kong - albeit on the longest 'dog legs' known in air travel

And just why would this be? Well if you live in Hong Kong or have stayed here for a time you will agree that this ex British crown colony and now tributory of Beijing has more of one thing than any other city in the world - "Buzz"

Day and night and day things are happening, people are transiting, business is being transacted, sports is being competed in, and people are eating, drinking, gambling, and making love. Not necessarily in that order

It is truly Asia's world city. Where Gweilo ‘Taipans’ and China ‘Tycoons’ rub shoulders and eat roasted duck or yum char in local ‘Dai Pai Dongs’ with their office cleaner, or security guard, or friend's driver just over on the next table. It is a truly egalitarian society where the only measure that is made is your wealth, but more importantly how hard you work and what you can contribute

The Nav loves the HK 7's, sailing on the harbour, golf at Kai Sai Chau, shopping in Shenzen, partying in "The Fong" and "The Wanch"; the live theatre, the country parks, the beaches, the seafood, those dai pai dongs, and everything else about this geopraphically small city that punches way above its weight. But recently what he has really appreciated is how some foreign imports are helping to gel, glue, and gratify the Hong Kong population as one

There are the fireworks over Central and Disneyland, the marine attractions at Ocean Park, the harbour cruises, the night junk trips, the evening tram parties, the seafood restaurants on Llama island, and so much more besides. But Halloween "grabs" Hong Kong but once a year - literally by the short and curlies

The Nav asks what other party in the world allows you to dress up, party hard, and walk over to someone you really fancy and whisper in her (or often in this city his) ear "Hi, you'd never guess it from what I'm wearing, but I'm a horny devil !" without being slapped, smacked, or if you are inclined to be mano a mano - thumped

30 years ago there was only Cantonese food and ‘Jimmy's Kitchen’ - with some 'international' cuisine thrown in at the high-end hotels like ‘Toad in the Hole’ at the Excelsior or ‘Cocq-au-Vin' at The Peninsula. Now every cuisine from every culture from every nation is available. Steaks, fajitas, tapas, sushi, rendang, laksa, udon, curry, kangaroo. They are all here. And The Nav means every cuisine known to God!

And why? Its because for 3 generations HK Mums and Dads have been sending their kids to other countries to finish their education. And they have come back wordly, wiser, and with a taste for the exotic; whether that be 'mountain oysters', or 'sheep sweet meats', or 'juevos de toro'. Everything is represented in HK. And because of this these children of 'Mao's resistors' have also absorbed the main global party festivals - and they love them!

Christmas, and western New Year, and Valentines Day, and Mother's Day and Father's Day. They are all celebrated, not as an add on to Taosim or Confucianism, but as a way of connecting and spending time with that most valuable possession - family

Hong Kong'ers are like everyone else in this weird, wacky, wired world - they love their friends & family, and they love to have Fun! Across the open air town markets during the week before Halloween there are hordes of people buying for son, daughter, niece, nephew, husband, partner and grand-dad. Everything from vampires to witches to werewolves. It is a week of excitement that climaxes with "Trick or Treat" on the night - the little one's of Hong Kong carrying sacks of sweets Santa would be sanguine about, dental appointments the following week spiking for the year. And the adults then later partying to sunrise in "The Fong" and "The Wanch" - black eyed and bruised or not!

And everyone in Hong Kong of all ages, ethnicities, and incomes gets involved. Because Halloween is one of the few times that you are able to really show off your fashion-sense and your fetishes and nobody thinks twice about them. In other cities you might get mugged or arrested if you were wearing fish-net stockings. In Hong Kong CEO’s, industrialists, and leading entrepreneurs don’t bat an eye-lid - either as an admiror or as an admiree. Because in this town as they say, anything goes !

This is The Nav. Hoping that 'Guy Fawkes' never reaches Hong Kong - for the sake of the Legco Building

Love in Asia the Final Chapter - When Worlds Collide

In chapter 1 of this tome, The Nav took you through the challenge that is winning a successful date with the divine Ms X in his search for true love in Asia

In chapter 2 The Nav shared with you the exhausting joys of being smitten, and how life, the Earth, and the Universe all become just bit players as one is inexorably caught up in the excitement of being on the verge of true love in Asia

Sadly here in chapter 3 The Nav will share with you how the move from infatuation to love just "ain't that easy." As his trusty Mum sagely put it, "Infatuation is like a blinding white silk curtain blowing in a sunny warm sea breeze - the sound of the ocean surf close at hand. Love you have to build - brick by bloody brick!" Actually, The Nav’s Mum was responsible for the 2nd part of this opinion, but you our informed reader should get the gist of it

So after a tumultuous few months of passion, and ponderance, and more passion, The Nav put the divine Ms X on a plane home for her long summer holidays - along with that trusty 7 year young human Rottweiler son gnashing at The Nav's knees. With long looks and romantic whispers, he promised that yes, he would fly there and join her for a week - “there” being a developed western country where The Nav would spend a King's ransom that would have paid for two months of golf in Thailand - in his undying devotion to that divine creature

Weeks of tossing and turning and insomnia later, with just one thing on his mind - which wasn't his day job - The Nav used taxis, trains, planes, cars, ferries, maps, and a computerised GPS navigation system to travel further in 26 hours and do more navigational work than Marco Polo did in his life-time; until eventually this wordly gypsy finally found himself at her family’s front door - exhausted

There followed a fabulous - but bloody expensive - week with her clan and their pet canines including that 7 year young human Rotweiller, and The Nav had an absolute ball. But being inexperienced in things to do with love there was one thing that he hadn't factored into the equation, the dreaded 10 year long boy friend - from 10 years ago - still sneaking around in her home town, a candle for her still flickering in his dark. Most men look ahead and seek to conquer life, but most women look back and remember the warm happy times in their past. And against this 10 year assassin of future happiness The Nav had no chance

So after a week of being on an emotional roller coaster, The Nav turned around and re-tread his steps back to home base Hong Kong - mentally drained and bloody confused. Back in Hong Kong there followed phone calls and emails back to the divine Ms X in her home country and all appeared well - until her return. Rushing back from an Indonesia business trip, train home, picking up ‘Monty’ the British Racing Green Mini, The Nav headed back out to the airport to collect and deliver his charges safely to their Sai Wai abode. Flight two hours late due to Typhoon delays, biorhythms at a low on a late Sunday night, and finally there they were. Loading Monty with enough bags to supply Rommel in the Siege of Tobruk, the mini pocket rocket of metal, humans, and baggage shot down the Hong Kong motorway to her home

Safely arrived, The Nav like an Afghani camel driver up and down stairs, delivering all that baggage to her 2nd story abode, a quick few beers and then shunted out the door, he wasn't sure what was going on

Within the week, brief local phone calls, terse and tense, words of passion crushed, and finally her phone slammed down in his ear - twice. So that was that. The end of the end. A few further quiet dinners as "friends", The Nav listening to how Ms X would always love her 10 year lover - but she could never go back to him despite his pleadings when she was recently there with him. The Nav thinking so this is how some people make millions - writing self-help books on how to try to understand women, that thing which is more complex and more confusing than the wiring system in an Airbus A380 Super Jumbo

Cracked but not crushed, hurt but not handicapped, The Nav remained morose - for a few weeks. Then it was off for golf week-ends in Pattaya and Phuket, beach holidays in Bali, sailing regattas in Hong Kong, and theatre and dinners and balls. Because at the end of the day life, the Earth, and the Universe don't stop - and there is much more writing that needs to be done to explain "how this earthly worm turns" to you our loyal reader

What would The Nav have done differently had he been faced with this Everest-like challenge ? Well as a good friend in ‘Godzone’ country opined “while we have a tendency to say we learn a lot through these ‘trials’, I inevitably find that had we had the opportunity again knowing what we know, that we would do the same thing again. The difference between man and rats I think.” Sage words from a sage muse

In summary what has The Nav learned from this tale of love FUBAR ? Don't fight the past. But if you do, use arsenic

This is The Nav. Measuring himself up for prison garb

A Burglary in Bangtao Beach - Thai Style!

In almost nine years of travel in Asia, The Nav has never been burgled. Well, on a recent visit to a friends place in Phuket this would all change !

For anyone who has been to Bangtao Beach on the West Coast of Phuket, the words "Beach Heaven" come to mind. Here is an 8 kilometre long sandy white beach – the 2nd longest on Phuket - in a crescent shaped bay, protected from the worst weather blown in from the blue Indian Ocean by headlands at both the northern end and at the southern end

The thing with Bangtao Beach is not the 4 and 5 star resorts backing onto the water, it’s not the sports available such as jet skiing and water-skiing and horse-riding and golf and tennis and cycling amongst others. What really strikes The Nav about the place is that if you stay with friends there, they see you as a bank ATM for betting purposes – constantly handing over 50 baht bank notes - as you get taken to the sporting cleaners by these regular residents regularly practicing these available sports rigorously and religiously

On a recent long week-end holiday visit to this locale to stay with friends at their new villa, The Nav was literally taken to petty cash financial armageddon over the course of 4 days by the villa’s owners and their two lovely but street-wise children James and Jennifer. These artful dodger adolescents are referred to here as the “burgling beagles” by the writer of this depressing account of ‘a bet too far’

Some examples of The Nav’s financial losses ? The morning of his arrival, he was “invited” to enjoy an easy game of ping pong in the villa’s garage. 30 minutes later - sweat glistening in his groin, lungs desperate for oxygen, water for rehydration cannily unavailable behind the high secure villa walls – and what was the game score? ‘Mrs Sai Taan Villas #1 Owner’ four games, The Nav nil. Interestingly although The Nav didn’t notice it until much later, the villa’s ping pong table was set up outside so that rogue ping pong balls would roll down the driveway and out towards the four lane Thai back road just outside the front gate; with “Mrs Sai Taan Villa #1 Owner” yelling a la Forrest Gump - "Run Nav, Run!" when he went to retrieve a rogue ping pong ball – constantly targeted by local vehicles, elephants, and the like

The same day a round of golf at the ‘Laguna Phuket Golf Club’, which gently undulates around the stunning ‘Bangtao Banyan Tree Resort’. The Nav teamed up with his fellow guest and new Irish mate "George" - aka "George" - against ‘Mr & Mrs Sai Taan Villas #1 Owners’ in an 18 hole match-play round of golf. Final score 7 and 6 - an absolute shellacking (The Nav's Ed Note : In golf match-play, best ball lowest score for each team after applying handicaps wins the hole. ‘7 and 6’ means 7 holes won with 6 holes left to play. Termed "a thrashing" in any other sport)

Then later, when these same host Dad and Mum were tired and exhausted, they set their little “burgling beagles” onto The Nav and “George”. Pool lilo races, under water breathe holding swimming races, marathon ping pong matches - best of 15 games - your writer constantly a loser and looking like a dessicated prune after a day of sporting endeavours with this "Band of Bangtao Burglers". The kids later slurping on delicious Italian gelato ice cream – bought at the local Bangtao shopping center down the road and paid for from the illicit sports gambling winnings from their guest ‘Uncles’ – ie. The Nav and "George”

But the pain did not end there. Oh no it did not end there. After days of coercing and pestering by the little “burgling beagles”, The Nav, his mate “George”, and a wisened ‘Mr Sai Taan Villa #1 Owner’ were all dragged to the magnificent ‘Laguna Beach Resort’ swimming pool nestled right down on Bangtao Beach itself. Your writer was ‘softened up’ by Dad and the “beagles” with timed runs down the exciting water slide – more baht lost – a lazy swim around the catacombs inside the pool complex, and then before you could yell “Ronny Biggs” !”, those “burgling beagles” were at it again ! Despite our very best efforts, The Nav and “George” were despatched sports-wise in water polo (lost 5 – 3), water basketball (lost 3 – 1), and water wallets (empty)

But the coup de grâce on The Nav’s financial fecundity came that evening when the little “burgling beagles” switched strategy from activity-based competition to cerebrally-based competition. Now The Nav doesn’t know about you our reader, but after a day of strenuous exercise, little nourishment, and several beers, his main physiological calling is for food then a pillow. There is little left in his bodily larder to enable mental sharpness, with the mind more a blunt, bludgeoning instrument than a rapier-like information processor. And the “beagles” knew it !

In the car on the way to dinner in Phuket Town the famous game of “Alphabet Subject” was played, where one competitor – for the whole of that evening the “beagles” made the subject choices (The Nav’s Ed Note : Enough said !) – chooses a subject and then the alphabet is cycled through where each competitor must name an article under that subject, be it a country, a capital city, or a make of car etc. Well The Nav knew this would not be his day when he was asked to name a country starting with “x” and on his next turn “q”, a mode of transport beginning with “d” and on his next turn “y”, and these amongst other intellectual conundrums he was forced to face in this his petty cash ‘End of Days’

So that was that. A long week-end, fabulous food, five star lodgings, amazing surroundings, and finally to the airport but forced to sit – on top of all the bags, wind whistling through his fingers as he held on for dear life - in the back of the Isuzu flat-back truck because The Nav was flat-broke. Those little “burgling beagles” smiling away in front in the air-conditioned, comfortable, stereophonic enclosed passenger cab – counting their winnings

The Nav’s most significant piece of advice about this chapter on petty cash financial armageddon ? If you visit your friends in Thailand, take lots of 50 baht bank notes!

And you never, ever, ever, ever, ever stay with friends in Asia and trust them with details of your superannuation. You are merely a chip to be won and then squandered on lashings of gelato ice cream

Again The Nav is signing off. A new proponent of the cashless society. Out

What's Done in 30 Seconds in Thailand ?

A leading question if ever there was one, and whether you our faithful reader are a philosopher, a philanthropist, or a sado-masochist, this question could be poked, prodded, pored over and debated for hours on end with like-minded fellows and fellowesses

Is it the time it takes to prepare a legal bill for the Thai parliament to consider passing into law? Or is it the time it takes to draw-up an architectural plan for that medical health centre to serve outer Bangkok or inland Isan? Or is it the time it takes to choose or be chosen by a lady, a ‘katoy’, or an "away player" in one of Thailand's notorious red light districts ?

The Nav can assure one and all that it may be all of these, but it is more and the most significant phenomenon in modern Thailand today. For what is the 30 second act that draws so much thought and debate?

It is the time it takes for your glass to be whisked from in front of you, re-iced, re-whisky’ed, re-soda’d, and re-placed back in front of your already unstable drinking hand, within sight of your eyes which are already willing victims of double vision

In Thailand restaurants the "30 second refill" puts even 007 and his shaken martinis to shame! The Nav, being advised of this cultural “phenom” by his fellow like-handed and double-visioned Thai business partners - whilst tucking into a traditional Thai dinner - has, on occasion, methodically timed the “phenom” using his Adidas silver banded watch, with a blue face, made in Thailand, with the timer hands constantly at 00:03 when at rest or reset. And indeed the “phenom” is true! 30 seconds again, and again, and again, and again, and again. In the course of an evening where vision continued to degenerate, voices became slurred, and laughter was the lingua franca - that trusty Adidas watch did not lie. Give or take 3 seconds

Because in Thailand the liquor industry and its owner 'Barons' are King. With brands such as Black Label, 100 Pipers, Sangsom, Mekong, Chang, and Singha, all are designed and brewed to get the entire Thai population inebriated as quickly as possible. To do this, entire tertiary hotel management school classes are taught to action the "30 second refill". Graduate staff are then delegated to restaurants and hotels across the land to stand at your elbow, smile politely, and the moment your glass is 2/3 empty, to whisk it away but have it back at your finger tips at or before 30 seconds have elapsed

Were it not for this cultural “phenom”, road accidents would plunge, whole hospital A&E centres would have to close, and the Thai tax payer would be forced to save billions of Baht which would otherwise be spent on the entire Thai medical infrastructure so carefully set-up to support road carnage in this country

This is The Nav. Adidas watch in one hand and breathalyzer tester in the other