Tuesday – Valentine’s Day

So for the second year in a row, I spend Valentine’s Day with my ex-nearly-girlfriend, Lois Ann. Just about. I wake up late – around 1pm, to find a text message on my Thai mobile suggesting we meet at Ari skytrain station at around 2pm. That’s clearly not going to happen, so I rearrange for 3pm and hit the shower. Then, since I have no idea where Ari BTS station is in relation to streets etc, it’s time to hit the skytrain.

I jump on the back of a motorcycle for the short (and cheap – 40B = 58p) ride to Chong Nonsi station, then pay 30B for a ticket to Ari. I have to change at Siam Square, but it’s simple enough, and (thank goodness) the trains are air conditioned. It’s getting hotter each day here, well into the 30s (that’s degrees Celsius – it’s over 80°, at times even 90° Fahrenheit).

I get to Ari without too many problems, and meet Lois Ann and Hannah by Soi 6. We wander up to Starbucks (her choice, not mine!), where she’s still stuck on the decaf. It’s too hot for anything like tea or coffee, so I’m delighted to find that they sell Orangina – haven’t had it in years! I glug down a couple of bottles as we chat about music, writing, and her now eighth year (I think) of life in this amazing city.

Hannah is wide-awake today, and the centre of attention, as usual. It’s funny how having a baby with you makes complete strangers assume that they’re entitled to approach you and talk to, tickle and generally manhandle your child!

We part a couple of hours later, and I wonder whether it’ll be another year before we meet again. Lois Ann wants Hannah to be “home” in Canada within a few years, so that she can get a Canadian education, as opposed to schooling in Thailand or Japan. I wonder where they’ll be in a year, and in ten years.

Later on, dodging the ubiquitous Valentine’s florists, I make myself scarce so that Martin and Tik can enjoy a romantic dinner for two, and end up boozing and chatting to fellow westerners in the tourist bars of Sukhumvit. I meet a man from Bolton who’s intent on impressing me with the thriftiness of his life out here, but I’m not really interested in a competition as to who has the cheapest gas bill…

I move on, and treat myself to a traditional massage. Sadly the one-size-fits-all pyjamas don’t quite fit me – presumably they’re designed for the rather more slimline Thais. No problem, says the masseuse, and brings in some pyjama trousers which would easily accomodate any of the elephants I saw at Sriracha last week. Crestfallen, I don the “fat bloke pants”, but it’s still good to relax and be pampered.

A few more beers, regular glances at my watch to make sure I don’t go back to the apartment before Martin and Tik have had a chance to make the most of their evening alone(!), and then sleep.