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

Bicycling down Mount Batur in Bali and Random Atoms

Bicycling was invented as a linear form of relatively stable human-powered transportation. Two vulcanised rubber wheels, connected by a metallic frame, and powered by an interlinking metal chain forced by your feet, using pedals, to push the rear wheel around and around to transport you from point A to point N - variously via points B to M. And being an in-line machine, its modus transportus can thus be variously described as linear in specific direction

Well, this was the theory until one went for a days cycling with 7 families of 11 adults, 13 children, and 28 cameras around Lake Batur and Mount Batur on the island of Bali. Within the crater stands a volcanic lava dome sticking up from what looks like a massive natural lake, but which is actually a massive volcanic ‘caldera’, ready to come to life at any time and pour a massive boiling hot 'lahar' down the hills-side on this an intrepid caravan of cyclistees from HK

In a convoy of buses from Canggu (The Nav's Ed Note : Pronounced “Changgu”) loaded with this biblically large crew of cavalier pedalistees, the caravan was delivered to a restaurant 1,200 metres above sea level over-looking Lake Batur (The Nav's Ed Note : that's 4,000 feet for all you non-metrical readers). Hurrying through a meal of fruit, cold pancakes, and cold coffee, the caravan had a photo op and then were loaded back up and delivered down the road to the bicycle depot. 20 minutes of familial chaos followed, the adults happy with their matt black, bald tired cyclos with bad brake pads; while the kids fretted over who's bike had the most rad sticker design, who wore the rowdiest helmet, and who possessed the most ngarly tire tread

Helmeted and gloved up, eyes gleaming in anticipation, the long hydra of humanity set off and then enjoyed the next 3 hours gently coasting down-hill, absorbing the sights and sounds of Balinese Hindu village life. Every house a temple, dogs barking at the door, cocks crowing from roof tops, and children at the road side yelling "Hello!" as high 5's were exchanged with our cycling hydra

At the end coasting over a long water reservoir culvert, chaos as the mums' tried to corral the kids into one photo opportunity, but the kids bouncing around the photographer like those chaotic random atoms - The Nav ruminating on whether it was fission or fusion that won the second world war. Amongst all this the manly Dad's stood around thinking "Right, so what's next?" At that moment ‘Winnie’ the cycling tour guide mentioned that the restaurant for our inclusionary lunch was an excellent 8 km ride away

Interest piqued, the lads iris' expanding, thinking about jumps and obstacles and flying over pot holes, we the small peloton as one wanted this final exciting challenge. But little did we realise our error as we tore off downhill, as shortly in the 30 degree heat and 80 percent humidity our exciting excursion would bite our collective bottoms as the cycle track turned - uphill !

Now the Balinese are a wonderfully warm and pleasant race. Kind, friendly, generous and humourous. But on this day The Nav and his five forty-something fellows really felt the Balinese fire, and came to the realization that they were indeed quite a war-like race who until only a century or two ago regularly fought the incursions of Javanese Kings' and foreign incquisitors’ alike. This explained this final local effort to sap our energy and kill our collective will - Sun Tzu obviously never enjoyed a Mojito cocktail sun-downer on a Bali beach!

Uphill we cycled in the heat and humidity, these weather measures both rising as the coast drew closer, again through villages and paddy fields and past massive Banyan trees our cavalier cabal of ageing cyclistees churned away, lungs and thighs on fire. Until eventually we came to rest in the restaurant car park, sweating like saturated sponges, externally congratulating one and all for a fine effort, internally each thinking "Oxygen bottle, isotonic drinks, body massage, then bed....."

The rest of the cycling hydra of mums' and kids' were buoyant and bellicose as they enjoyed the restaurant buffet fare with a frenzy. The men in the pack quiet and sombre - until the cold beers started to flow much later at the 'Villa Asante' in Canggu. But that’s another story

All in all it is a wonderful way to experience the 'Real Bali' - far from the sterile resorts of Nusa Dua or the human chaos at Kuta Beach. The Nav would do a Bali cycling holiday again in a heartbeat - although next time he'd ask for a hybrid bicycle, the lack of hi-tech hydrogen gas refilling stations in Bali notwithstanding!

Until his next report about the lighter side of life, this is The Nav reporting to you from the Denpassar Hospital Accident & Emergency ward. Out

Home Alone at Villa Asante Bali

Bali is known as the island of the Gods. A small, volcanic sea mount in the middle of both the 17,508 islands that make up the Indonesia archipelago, and the Pacific and Indian Oceans. It is a holiday mecca - from party town Kuta where the worlds cultures join in one big mosh pit, to 5 star Nusa Dua where western soccer mums and their “dahling” young charges dominate, to Ubud where artists and artisans create their magic far from the madding crowd that is the rest of this crazy little planet

And then there is 'Canggu' (The Nav's Ed note : Pronounced Changgu). A small expat enclave tucked up against the world famous amongst surfies 'Echo Beach', just up the west coast from Kuta Beach. Here amongst Hindu temples and rice paddies and coconut trees and frangipani flowers is the magnificent ‘Villa Asante’. A stunning homestay development built by The Nav's HK friends 'Mr & Mrs Asante Villa Owners'

With an ecletic mix of Balinese architecture and Thai serenity and European style, when you walk in to this magnificent accommodation, you are immediately put at peace - and then a beer is thrust into your hand. Sometime Heineken, often Bintan, always cold. For an honest, down to earth bloke like The Nav, this was heaven. Quietly sitting in the glorious garden, listening to the pool water lap against itself, the sea breeze wafting through the building eaves, and the aroma of cold hops tantalizing the taste buds. When you are this happy - who needs a church !?

On a recent long week-end visit to stay with 'Mr & Mrs Asante Villa Owners', The Nav had a magic few days of beach walks, cold beer, pool swims, cold beer, reading, cold beer, mountain biking, cold beer, body surfing, and cold beer. All was well until a particularly disturbing event on Day two of four. Having joined five families for this holiday, there was an abundance of adults and children everywhere. You could see this from the multitude and myriad assortment of sand shoes cast asunder at the front door - the aroma of sweaty socks stifling in the early afternoon heat

On this day the plan was to load fifteen people into four taxis and head down to the magnificent ‘Changgu Sports Club’ for a swim, sundowners, dinner, and cold beer. Of course the taxi loading proved chaotic, with sound bites of communication yelled through half open taxi doors as to who was with whom, which child was in what, and were we all ready. Unfortunately 'Mr Asante Villa Owners' sister was in her room drying her hair with an electric hair dryer - that most herculean of feminine activities - and could not hear the human hub bub just outside her door

30 minutes later, with the sun setting lower in the Indo-Pacific sky, the children causing sports club staff to have apoplexy, and the adults by the pool with cocktails and those cold beers in hand - all were at one. But something just wasn't right. Call it a sudden spike in intellectual clarity brought on by a heady mix of sunshine and the constant ocean breeze, earlier sporting efforts, and the effect of cold hops, but there was a sudden hiatus in the conversation, a pregnant pause, and then shocked realization - "Where's Mr Asante Villa owner's sister !?"

Seconds passed. Nobody said a word. A look of shock the universal theme. And then as one all looked at her brother, all mentally questioning his administrative capabilties. And then, like all men of substance, bereft of guilt, he uttered one word with hands outstretched, palms skyward - "What ?!" Thankfully five mobile phones were proffered towards him, quick calls made, a taxi sorted, and within the hour the serene sibling was delivered safe to the club and to our table. Appearing philosophical, with body-language that suggested this was not the first time, the sibling settled in to cocktails and shiraz and a tandoori chicken wrap, not a raised word spoken to her brother. The Nav reflected had this been him - he would have had his ears ripped off !

So what has The Nav learned from this tale of familial fortitude ? Well firstly your immediate family are so familiar that they are like a family pet - close, quiet, and never noticed. And secondly if ever you do holiday with your immediate family, expect to have to hitch hike

This is The Nav. Safely home alone from Villa Asante - sign still in hand saying "Hong Kong.........please?!"

Calling All Lotus Eaters ! ‘Villa Asante’ in Changgu, Bali.

What an amazing place. I stayed there with a big group of 3 families and we were busy for days on end. Picked up at the airport by their driver “Gidday” – I think 1 in 4 men in Bali is named “Gidday” – it was a ride through the busy throngs of Denpasar and Kuta to the quiet solitude that is ‘Villa Asante’ in Changgu, a short distance up the west coast of Bali. The villa complex is stunning. A garden green for some sports, big pool, separate outdoor dining and living areas, and at the front a fantastic two-story building containing four 5 star ensuite rooms with private bathrooms etc. The Master bedroom you actually shower outside – quite exciting stuff when you are single! More so when you are married! Cable TV, wireless internet, resident Balinese staff, 24 hours security, an on-premise ‘Manager come Concierge’ to organise everything for you, magnificent food and beverages always available. And probably most important of all – space ! You can be there with a big group of friends and there is that space to go and hide with your iPod and a good book. If you have an extended group of friends and need more accommodation, right next door is the equally impressive ‘The Villa’ at Echo Beach

For those action-oriented individuals there is lots to do locally. Near ‘Asante’ you can do long walks through the rice paddies and back roads of this safe little haven. 5 minutes walk away from the villa is the world-famous ‘Echo surf beach’ where there are some fabulous and inexpensive restaurants and bars where you can sit and chill, chat, or just soak up the magnificence of the eastern Indian Ocean at sunset – or sunrise if you party-hard ! A short car ride away there’s Denpasar for shopping, Kuta for more partying, the magnificent ‘Changgu Sports Club’ for all sorts of sports, a large water park near Denpasar for the kids and dads, etc. Slightly further afield there’s Nusa for golf, Sanur for diving, and Mount Batur for canoeing and cycling. But the quiet and relaxed simplicity and solitude that is ‘Asante’ in Changgu just makes you want to come back. The quiet thunder of that east Indian Ocean surf softening your senses; the cool breeze through the quiet local paddy fields making that sun-downer taste so much better. Try ‘Villa Asante’. It is a peace of paradise

This is The Nav. Pouring himself into his next sundowner

Chaos Theory, The Big Bang, and Thai Roads - A Thesis

All things in the universe are interwoven, interconnected, and intra-chaotic. This is true of these 3 irrefutable forces that wreak so much havoc on the common senses of the world's intelligencia

'Chaos Theory' at once dictates that chaos begets order, and thus chaos is the cause of all order

(The Nav’s Ed Note : The name "Chaos Theory" comes from the fact that the systems that the theory describes are apparently disordered, but chaos theory is really about finding the underlying order in apparently random data. Systems that exhibit mathematical chaos are deterministic and thus orderly in some sense.)

'The Big Bang Theory' can be seen as a direct result of 'Chaos Theory'. From a microcosm of energy, where the universe was originally merely a pinhole of matter, it subsumed itself and exploded outwards, and continues to expand ever outwards at multiple speeds of light, growing the voluminous mass of our universe exponentially by the second

(The Nav’s Ed Note : The essential idea behid “The Big Bang” is that it is a cosmological model of the universe whereby the universe has expanded from a primordial hot and dense initial condition at some finite time in the past and continues to expand to this day.)

Thai roads themselves are a direct example of how these two theories above are so correct, so inter-dependant, and so irrefutable. For on Thai roads chaos reigns, while in the country-side around these roads peace and order are prevalent - cows stand quietly chewing their cud, mange-ridden dogs sleep day and night, chickens are most active at 5 am when the cocks crow, and young men sit at 7 am rolling a local tobacco cigarello while supping a large bottle of Chang beer. All are at peace

And like 'The Big Bang', in the blink of a historical eye - or in this case in only a few decades - Thai freeways, motorways, highways, tollways, town roads, and multi-lane flyover junctions have exploded in number and geographic spread, and are now so ubiquitous as to make the local population of the humble Asiatic Elephant archaic and irrelevant - its ‘Mahout’ driver / owner only allowed to ride their pachyderm charges across Thailand after sitting and passing the Thailand Road Authorities Heavy Goods Vehicle Class 2 examination for self-propelled traffic. Quite an achievement if you consider that these elephant charges have longer years in school and greater intellect than their Mahout "Bosses"

For in driving on Thai roads one experiences all the chaos, construction, destruction, and wonderment of physics that is the greater universe. Every mode of every transport - including at times ocean-going vessels tens of metres in length - navigate the Thai road system from the mountains of the North, to the plains in the centre, to the seaside towns in the south. Bikes and buses and cars and trucks and vans and motorcycles and motorbikes and trains and on occasion planes. All play their part in making your journey on Thai roads seem a three-dimensional and at times light-speed atom-smashing experience

This as on Thai roads the human mind must be more powerful than a ‘Cray’ super computer in assessing the three dimensions of movements around you, more all-monitoring about possible on-road threats than the ‘NSA’ complex in Fort Meade in Maryland, and faster than an Formula One driver to communicate to your body to act to avoid these threats and safely bring your vehicle to its end destination

For in a mere mile of road tarmac you can be forced into figure of eights around domestic wild-life or road construction crews - leaning heavily on their work tools. Or you can be forced to swerve across five lanes of freeway to miss open flat-back trucks covered with farm workers sans crash helmets or seat belts, or to miss swerving concrete mixer trucks filled to the brim with their grey viscous matter, with their outlet pouring equipment flailing left and right like an out of control yacht sail boom. Or break to avoid inter-city buses that fly past you first on your left and then on your right, emitting a shockwave akin to a Russian armoured personnel carrier. Or observe on many an occasion Thai "Valentino Rossi's" snaking at speed through the traffic around you on their 125cc Yamaha motorcycles doing 130 kmph – hair sans crash helmet and flailing in the wind, and light white flannel shirt loose and also flailing mere inches from the bike chain

And there is one constant amongst all these Thai drivers' who are Masters of their own specific universe. They all smile, and they all have amulets of Buddha hung around their necks - and often sitting on their tongues - as they take their lives and the entire village life around them into their own hands

This is The Nav. Considering converting to Buddhism