As fate would have it, parts of Bangkok were knee-deep, or even waist-deep in rainwater and floodwater from the burst canal by the time we were due to be meeting at an open-air restaurant for a curry. One very soggy taxi ride later (the footwell was literally full of water by the end of our journey), and an hour later than planned, we made it to lower Sukhumvit.

By the time we got to the restaurant, Martin had given up and gone home. So it was left to me, Sonny (who mysteriously avoided getting into any of the photos), Nid, Milo, Deuan and John to hoist glasses and toast the dawn of my 29th year. We decided the enclosed warmth of Gulliver’s (followed by the equally cosy interior of my apartment building’s lobby bar), would be more sensible than any open-air festivities, given the circumstances, and a good time was had by all.