It was about 9am on my day off last week. I sprinted down the stairs _ well okay, tottered _ and headed for the kitchen in search of that first precious morning cup of tea, a life saver if ever there was one. There was nothing urgent to be done and I contemplated the not unpleasant prospect of lazing away the whole day, not doing much of anything. I was greeted in the kitchen by my better half, looking horribly cheerful and bouncy. ''Let's go to the seaside,'' she said with some animation. She quickly gathered that the last thing Crutch had in mind was a day trip to the sea. Unfortunately she had caught me at a vulnerable time and I didn't have any ready-made excuses, such as important interviews, that usually do the trick. All I could come up with was a pathetic ''Do we have to?'' Her look was enough _ yes we did.
''You promised last week,'' she said _ and I had, hoping she would forget all about it. In a last desperate throw of the dice I suggested that the weather forecast wasn't very good. ''The weather's fine.'' she replied.
But the truly deciding factor came next. ''I promised to take Su and Noi [the maid and her husband]. They really want to go and take Nong Mot [their two-and a half-year-old granddaughter] who has never seen the sea.''
That settled it. Old Crutch was going to be the undisputed villain of the piece if he said no. A mixture of Scrooge and Alf Garnett _ basically a miserable old git. ''Okay,'' I sighed, ''but let's get away by 10am to make it worthwhile.''
At approximately 10:50am (which is about 10am in Thai time) we were on our way, all of us wearing variations of baseball and golf caps, which seem obligatory on such trips. I had yet to be convinced I would enjoy this outing.
The delicate sound of thunder
Our destination was Rayong, or to be more specific Mae Ramphung beach, not far from Ban Phe, somewhere I hadn't visited since the last time I went to Koh Samet, about 15 years ago. Our journey was relatively uneventful, once we got going, that is. We had to fill up with gas but couldn't even get into our local gas station owing to a snaking line of taxis queuing up for some cheap LPG.
Nong Mot was so excited at the thought of seeing the sea, she seemed to be expecting it to appear round the corner at any moment and of course we hadn't even got out of Bangkok. I was bracing myself for impatient tears to flow at any moment, but fortunately she fell asleep for most of the journey, God bless her.
As we approached Rayong the sky turned blacker and blacker and lightening danced across the horizon. It looked like an omen, or at least the opening shots of a B-grade horror movie. It was shortly after mid-day but felt like dusk. There was a significant clap of thunder and then the heavens opened and it bucketed down. My worst fears were being confirmed _ a day trip to the sea and we were going to end up sitting in the car staring out at the rain and annoying one another. I had experienced that enough times in England. I was tempted to recall my earlier profound observations about the dodgy weather, but thought better of it.
Then, as we reached the beach road, the storm suddenly dissipated and the sun even poked its head around the clouds. Perhaps it wasn't going to be so bad after all.
Wish you were here
The vast beach was virtually deserted apart from the customary collection of mangy dogs. It is definitely the off season in Thailand at the moment. We sat at a small beachside restaurant and unashamedly stuffed ourselves with prawns, crabs, oysters, squid and mussels accompanied by a few bottles of the amber liquid to help it all slide down. Sheer bliss! The only interruption came when I felt something nudging me in the back. I thought it was one of the dogs, but turned to find an elephant's trunk in my face. Those pachyderms get everywhere these days.
But the key to the afternoon was Nong Mot's long-awaited reaction to the sea. Much to everyone's relief, from the first moment she saw the ocean she squealed with delight. It is one of those rare occasions when you promise a child something and it lives up to expectations. We couldn't keep her out of the water as she splashed around in the shallows. Inevitably Uncle Roger's presence was demanded to join in the fun and Crutch ended up with a pocketful of soggy banknotes which I'd forgotten to remove from my pocket. But it was all great fun _ I was even sorry I had forgotten my bucket and spade.
It beats Bournemouth
Watching Nong Mot having the time of her life got me trying to recall my own introduction to the sea. I was probably about the same age and don't really remember it. However, in my parents' old photo albums there used to be a few snaps of a three-year-old Crutch wearing a ridiculous pair of woolen swimming trunks, clutching his father's hand, standing in about six inches of water and crying his eyes out. I definitely didn't take to the sea in the same way as Nong Mot.
The pictures were most likely taken in Bournemouth as that's where we used to go every August when I was a nipper. The reason I was crying was either because of the ridiculous outfit I was wearing or that the sea was bloody cold _ I suspect the latter.
Certainly, dipping one's toes in the warm waters of the Gulf of Thailand is a more preferable introduction to the joys of the ocean than that of the English Channel, which is more like shock treatment therapy.
Contact PostScript by email at oldcrutch
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