Life's a beach

Playing on the beach.


Rocky love.


When the boat comes in.


Buckets on the beach.


Waiting for sun rise.


Time to go to bed.

I have interrupted this blog with some very important news

I am forever touching wood.
This is not because I have aspirations to become a world class carpenter. And it is not because I have been diagnosed with objectum-sexuality (where people fall in love with inanimate objects, like buildings, cars, fences, weird I know and I watched a documentary on this once and found it even weirder). It is because I suffer from not wishing to tempt fate. In other words, I am fairly superstitious.
For your benefit, and my curiosity, I googled (aint the Internet great) ‘touching wood’ and this was the information I was given:

The custom is thought to originate from Pagan times when trees were held in high esteem. People believed that 'wood spirits' inhabited the trees and woodlands. To touch a tree with respect is thought to indicate that the person was in search of protection from the particular wood spirit.
It is thought also that the action may be a result of the Christian belief in The Crucifixion. Christ was crucified on a cross made of wood and hence touching wood may now be a sign of this belief, and a sign of deep compassion and reverence for Christ's resurrection. This would of course have no connection with the Pagan reasoning, but perhaps the action may be seen as result of two distinctive belief systems.

So there is some kind of explanation as to why I feel the need to caress wooden objects, when discussing something of minor or major importance, but either way when I do not wish bad luck or the hand of fate to alter the conversation.
And it always seems when I fail to find a piece of wood to prod, strange things occur.
For example:

One evening I was at my cousins house, scoffing chillie con carne and boasting that I am always at the bus stop at 6.40am and never late for the 6.48am bus. Then guess what happened? The very next day I left my house minus my mobile telephone, rushed home to collect it, and missed the 6.48am bus.
Another time I was sitting at my desk informing my boss that I had not suffered with a cold for over a year and therefore I must be relatively healthy these days. Then guess what happened? Two days later I started sniffing and sneezing. I went down like a pack of cards with a very nasty cold.

Can you now see why I have decided to break earth shattering news to you, whilst furiously poking wood with my index finger? Okay here is my announcement:

I have a boyfriend.
A real life, real boyfriend.
Have you fallen off your chair?
Did you faint with the sheer shock of my confession?
Are you laughing wildly and shaking your head in dis-belief?
Maybe you are muttering to yourself, “Here we go again, another mysterious man from a night club who will blank her in ten days, or a phantom boyfriend from on line dating who is dating a million other girls and is merely humouring her..”?
I wouldn’t blame you for doing/saying all of the above. However, it is true. It has been two months now. We have dined in restaurants, walked in forests, drank in cocktail bars, and met each others friends and relations.
And tonight I am cooking my boyfriend a Thai curry. The ingredients were purchased at Sainsburys last night, the cook book has been prestigiously placed by the cooker, and the wine and cider are chilling in the fridge. I've even bought new red bowls and plates for the occasion.

I am a happy girl and I feel privileged to have met a special someone – touch wood!

Pictures of Thailand beaches coming very soon!

Food and drink and temples

Thailand is becoming a distant memory.
I've soon settled back into reality. Early morning alarm calls, commuting to and from work, staring at my computer screen, cooking and cleaning, and singing Karaoke songs with friends in a very undignified manner.
The first week back has been hard. I've been trying to motivate myself but I can't help wishing I was still lazing around the pool and eating Thai currys and drinking Thai beer.
At least I still have my pictures to stare at and remind me of the amazing time I spent at Koh Samui.

Coming soon: Life's a beach!

Lunch on the sea front.


Cocktails and card games.


The barbeque.


The VW bar.


Temple in Koh Samui.


The temple near the big buddha.

It all began with a telephone call one snowy evening

It all began with a telephone call one snowy evening. I remember it clearly. I was slipping and sliding on the pavement, trying not to loose my balance and drop my carrier bag of wine, when my mobile phone rang.
For the record, it was the second bottle of wine I had purchased that evening. The first one I managed to smash in the cold meats aisle in Marks and Spencers, so I was adamant I would not be purchasing a third bottle.
It had been a rather accident prone kind of day. I managed to skid in my car, Grand Prix style, and miss colliding with another vehicle by about 1mm. I then somehow boarded the wrong train after my day of shopping, swore rather loudly when I realised my error, rushed to the train door, tripped in the process, and spilt my orange juice over a rather startled stranger. Then I smashed my wine bottle in M & S. You should have seen the mess it made, and the embarrassed look on my face.
But anyway, back to the telephone call. It was my friend Claire informing me she would be meeting friends (who had taken a year out to travel the world) in Thailand at the end of March. She wanted to know if I would like to join her. "Claire, I would love to honey, but I don't have the money for that kind of holiday."
My brilliant friend then offered to lend me the cash, and it took me about five seconds to thank her and accept her kind and generous loan.
I was going to Thailand! I was so excited I squealed and very nearly slipped, again, and smashed my wine bottle, again, on the hazardous pavement.
So on the 22nd March 2010 we began our long journey to Thailand. After missing a nights sleep, and sitting on two aeroplanes, we arrived at our destination: Baan Luxmoor villas in Koh Samui.

Inside the villa.


Villa bedroom.


The pool.