Thursday, 13 November 2008
Poolside in Ayutthaya
We found a couple in big, old colonial courtyard houses in Nicaragua but they were both owned by the same people who had installed what amounted to little more than puddles as part of the backpacker luxury package. Very welcome they were too.
The Ayutthaya pool is much bigger, maybe 10 metres in length, and a one-off in town. It is part of the Sherwood Inn, on one of the roads close to the Ayutthaya ancient ruins. Its very presence epitomises the attitude of the guesthouse manager of providing good, friendly service at a budget price. A double room wil set you back just 280 baht, or 5.50 GB pounds before the exchange rate worsens due to the sinking pound.
Not only is there a pool that is long enough to swim lengths, pleasantly short lengths that is, but there is also plenty of space for yoga, reading and enjoying meals from the great kitchenv Add in a poolside balcony, that has almost become Georgia's private workspace as she completes an editorial contract, and the presence of only five rooms and the Sherwood makes for a very relaxing base to explore the ruins.
Friday, 7 November 2008
Buddha on a Mountain
While Georgia went to a local hotel pool, I headed off down the still-quiet streets at 7am to visit the Golden Mount, a temple built on top of a large artificial mound founded on a raft comprising thousands of logs. Strangely surrounded by a market and fair ground, including shooting games, the temple mount is an oasis of calm above the noisy city. A spiralling path winds around the outside of the mount to a temple topped with a red draped golden stupa. Early-rising Thais were already praying and offering flowers and incense to the golden Buddhas inside. Others were making more unusual offerings at the stupa. Marker pens were laid out amongst the flowers and incense for people to write messages on the red cloth cloaking the base of the stupa. Most people would write a message, most likely a wish, take a small orange pillow with a folded cut-out cardboard flower, kneel to offer it to the stupa then circle the stupa three or four times. After they finished, they would pin a 20 baht note onto a criss-cross of washing line suspended above head height.
Lady Boys and Tofu...
http://www.flickr.com/photos/billbevan/sets/72157608730241568/
In our first two days here we have done some of our favourite activities in Bangkok. After checking in to the cheap but very clean Bella Bella Guesthouse in Banlampu, the first thing we did was to grab some fresh stir-fried food from a street vendor. We found a stall specialising in vegetarian food, so we didn’t have to hover over the dried shrimps and say no repeatedly until we had received the food without their liberal application, while enjoying fantastically cooked and delicious tofu with garlic, fried vegetables with tofu and spicy salad with tofu. Next door was a smoothie bar run by two lady boys. All around were pot plants on the street. We then took a ferry down the river to get a cool breeze and away from the traffic noise and followed that with a Thai massage in a tranquil garden. Georgia then called into a 7-11 for an ice lolly. That finished the evening, and a stretch of 32 hours flying without sleep, perfectly. We were in bed after 9pm, jetlag beating.
The next day, Friday 7th, we visited the Royal Barges Museum, a floating delight of sparkling gold leaf, coloured glass and ornate wood carving. There are four graceful boats still kept to in immaculate condition to carry the royal family along the river for major ceremonies. The bowhead of each is carved into a mythical being that carried one of Brahma or Vishnu in Indian epics, including a multi-headed serpent-like Naga, a garuda and a bird. The walk to the museum was along narrow alleys between houses given a glimpse of how Bangkok may have been 50 years ago before the rise of concrete and futuristic skyscrapers. We went on the river again then had a failed evening of shopping and drinking, the mall had closed by the time we got there, the skybar enforced a no sandle dress code. We made up for it with a beer under a tree back on the street of or guest house.
Stottie Welcome to Newcastle
Friday, 17 October 2008
Friday, 3 October 2008
From Buccanear to F'Kinnear
Thursday, 11 September 2008
Will You Buckle?
Will Buckley sits, slouches and slides around in the faded armchair for an Audience with… in front of a semi-circle of 16 budding journalists. Buckley’s adrenalin-fuelled performance as the self-styled wine swigging, bar-propping journalist coincidentally coincides with England’s resounding victory against Croatia in their World Cup qualifier. It is somewhat ironic that while the Observer’s Senior Sports Writer is given a talk chaired by the Sunday Mirror’s Senior Sports Writer, England are winning their most memorable victory since demolishing Germany 5-1 oh so many years ago. There are a few England fans amongst these wannabe journalists and none of us are able to watch the historic match. At least we start with a match update from Steve, the centre manager. "England are one-nil up." The football fans amongst us are still hankering for the pub at the top of the hill with Setanta Sports. But, alas, the lottery of the journalism course schedule means we are barred from seeing what turns out to be a famous win and another hat trick from a dashing young England forward. Instead, we are face-to-face with Buckley’s dinosaur hack on the edge of an extinction brought on, not by global warming or volcanic eruption, but by the man-made disaster to thoughtful newspaper writing that is the world wide web.
Buckley freely admits that if he were starting out now he would work on the web though he dislikes the lack of in-depth journalistic writing that it creates. “The web offers great opportunities for new journalists if you are prepared to be dedicated to sending in words, video and photos direct from locations.” He believes that the main thing the journalist should achieve is being challenged by Internet journalism. “The one thing a journalist can do is watch and write about an event and be trusted by the reader to choose what aspects of the event are important. A writer wants to be read, a reader wants to get to the end of the piece. To get the reader to the end means you have succeeded.” He vividly describes the ranks of Guardian web journalists reeling out thousands of words across the globe from the Beijing press office, most typing their copy below TV screens. “One of them wrote as many words in an afternoon as I’ve written in a decade!” The demand from newspaper editors for getting copy onto the Internet instantly is, Buckley argues, devaluing journalism.
Buckley fears for the final extinction of an older, beer-stained, newspaper culture. “The Observer office was a like a dysfunctional club. Nick Cohen could be found asleep under his desk. We used to drink in the Coach and Horses. It was owned by a friend of the Richardsons, not the Krays. No one knew who was inside the dark rooms hidden behind stained-glass windows. You could catch-up with other Observer correspondents returning from assignments in places such as Iraq.” When the traditional pub was converted to a modern cafĂ© bar and the stained-glass replaced with clear “now everyone can see where we spend our time.”
The days of the drinking hack are clearly marked as the Guardian embraces the immediacy that the Internet offers. Buckley brings back the discussion to the Internet again and again. At one point he questions some of the benefits offered by the web. “Will the Internet undermine celebrity control? Will it really be as democratic as promised?” His own answer on the future of journalism in the digital age is, by necessity, inconclusive but highly pertinent “It’s so fluid now that no one knows what’s going on.”

