12 June 2015

Selfie

That was me one night in Ao Nang, Thailand in June 2011. I had bought the mask and snorkel ahead of my little dream trip to the tiny island of Koh Poda in the Andaman Sea near Krabi. I often think of those three days - the peacefulness, the clear blue sea and not one other guest was staying there though a few visitors came from the mainland on day cruises in longtail boats.

Life. It's funny that way isn't it? The majority of days are forgotten almost as soon as we have lived them but some days keep coming back to the surface like snorkellers constantly rising from a clear blue sea.

25 comments:

  1. Sex tourist were you? Nah! No chance, too old. Out there to educate the natives and I bet they were better behaved than the pond life at home. Come to look again and your glasses have steamed up. There must be life in the old dog yet.
    We ex pro divers used to spit in face masks and smear it about. Saves clouding up but doesn't save the sphincter clenching terror of an hour of mixed gas in freezing black water.

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    1. Ex pro diver? Hells bells Adrian is there anything you haven't done? I heard you were once a parson in the west country. The Vicar of Dribbly.

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    2. Just part of the salvage job but I always hated the mixed gas dives. We went on courses to be learned I but could never make head nor tail of decompression times. I couldn't. I used to just swap a bottle on the dive rope and if I felt aches or pains go down for as long as the bottle lasted.
      We had to go on proper medical courses for when things went tits up. If you could just see my skill at deep tissue suturing. Perfect I was or like most surgeons adequate.
      I also had to learn folk spherical trigonometry and PYZ triangles. I taught as well but wasn't paid for it.
      I didn't have to learn them English. Most spoke Spanish...I taught them in Spanish as a foreign language but I still speak rubbish Spanish in three different dialects. I speak it Derbyshire.
      Teachers lead an awful but sheltered life. We had to have tickets for breathing and were checked for drug abuse every year, Teachers don't have to think is it three months to my next test before they light a spliff.

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    3. There is no way that teachers are "sheltered". In tough urban schools teachers are at the front line of respectable, aspirational society - dealing with deprivation in its many forms while seamen sail boats oh the high seas singing sea shanties and drinking grog as the sun sinks on the western horizon. When you come out with this teacher bashing bollix you remind me of private school Tories like your pal Dithery. They have no idea.

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  2. I am not sure I can add anything (interesting) to the conversation after Adrian :-/

    I remember your snorkeling trip (perhaps a different one) ~ because I didn't think I had been stalking you for 4 years?

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    1. Stalking? I prefer to think of it as befriending Carol. If Adrian ever touches down in Cairns you must put out a warning out on the local radio. Aussie insects would also be well-advised to hide under rocks.

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    2. Neil I wouldn't touch Aussie insects or ladies the former are poisonous and the latter only the lord knows where they are from or where they have been. Well maybe I would Carol if she played her cards right. Doesn't do to be too picky as one gets older.

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    3. May I advise you not to stir Carol's wrath. Carol is from Emerald and she has been to Tasmania as well as Brisbane, Sydney and lots of places in between. She eats camper van men for breakfast and spits out the pips.

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    4. And my mother wears army boots ~

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    5. And if Carol doesn't deal with you, I will !
      Be careful what you say about Aussie women !

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    6. Aussie women are gorgeous, athletic, intelligent, stylish, well-mannered, generous, sensitive, imaginative, sexy, charitable, friendly, funny and animal-loving. Above all they are culinary geniuses.
      (I trust this remark meats with the approval of all Queensland ladies)

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  3. A face only a mother could love

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  4. Aka 'Blogland'? I am sure it was in the Alderman Sea.
    (Ah, remember our adventures in Blogland YP? Those were the days. Me marooned for weeks on a tiny island after my plane crash en route to Blogland, and all the time it was only a log-canoe's paddle away from Blogland.)

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    1. I meant Andeman Sea.

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    2. Yes those were the days Kate. We were young and in our prime with our lives spread out before us like counterpanes. Personally I blame the CIA for bringing about the downfall of Blogland. It was the death of a beautiful dream.

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  5. I have two things to comment on today, neither of which may meet the approval of YP.

    The comments are far more interesting and amusing than today's post. Of course I realise the post is the driver for the said comments...

    And my London blog read has now added your blog to his blogroll and I detect a small amount of envy as the London fox is not nearly as cooperative Yorkshire Fred. He is an American (in London, not Paris), is a keen photographer and in the interest of international good will I hope you welcome him.

    Ms Soup

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    1. Like many English northeners, I am anti-London but we are tolerant people Alphie and I shall welcome this poor London soul into the fold. You have to have some sympathy with them - that's only human. And our foxes are rough, tough and resourceful whereas London foxes have counsellors and drink lattes in coffee houses whilst they chatter about the theatre and the great buffoon who is still the Mayor of London. And I am not talking about Dick Whittington.

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  6. Some days do indeed stand out in our minds clearer than others. Often, my memories are more a certain mood or atmosphere that covers more than just one day. For instance, when I think back to the few days I spent with my uncle and aunt in the country early in January this year, it is an overall mental picture of snow-covered fields and village roads, of the real fire blazing in the kitchen/living room, of the creaking old wooden stairs leading up to our rooms on the top floor, the conversations with our hosts, the lovely food they gave us, and the three cats, one of which you'd always find curled up somewhere in the house.

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    1. Yes. Not so much the details of what happened but the mood or atmosphere that the situation engendered.

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  7. How on earth did I miss this post?????

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    1. How? Because like most Aussies you had drunk far too many tinnies at the barbie!

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    2. Don't believe everything you read, Yorky! Remember...it was you who mentioned "Truth" was an inappropriate name for a newspaper. :)

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    3. You got me Lee! Hoisted by my own petard.

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Mr Pudding welcomes all genuine comments - even those with which he disagrees. However, puerile or abusive comments from anonymous contributors will continue to be given the short shrift they deserve. Any spam comments that get through Google/Blogger defences will also be quickly deleted.