When Roger Crutchley set off from London on a mainly overland sojourn to Australia as a 22-year-old, little did he know that he had embarked on an adventure of a lifetime. Fate had him destined to head towards Thailand instead, which eventually became his home away from home for now almost half a century. And counting.
Crutchley, who was born in the English town of Reading in 1946, has had some of the most engaging encounters as a foreigner in the City of Angels. A chain of colourful anecdotes, many unexpected, add to the thrill and excitement that he shares in his latest book The Long Winding Road To Nakhon Nowhere: When Thailand Truly Was The Land Of Smiles.
"Thailand was never on the cards. The plan was to go to Australia, but that did not happen, so it goes to show that my planning is pretty hopeless [laughs]," mused Crutchley as he walked down memory lane.
In a nutshell, it was a turn of events that brought him to Thailand. He landed in Bangkok in April 1969, just three months after leaving on the much anticipated trip to the land Down Under.
"During my overland trip, I travelled through Pakistan and India mainly on overcrowded trains. When we finally got to New Delhi, the group I was travelling with decided they wanted a slight change, so they decided to go to Nepal. On their return, they ended up in Calcutta.
"Clarence Shettlesworth [his travelling buddy] and I were broke. As Clarence had some money waiting for him in Malaysia, we decided to fly into Bangkok and then work our way down to Malaysia.
"We were so broke that on the first night we slept on the roof of Don Mueang airport because we had nowhere to go. Interestingly enough we came to Thailand on Songkran. After experiencing it, we knew we were in a different sort of country to England. Everybody was throwing water and we had no idea what was going on. It seemed all great fun."
Crutchley and his friend then set off for Malaysia, hitching rides for most of the way. After an eventful journey, they finally arrived at the Malaysian border in a smelly fish truck, down to their last 20 baht.
Luckily, he said, Clarence had a watch that fetched them enough for transport to reach the town where his money was waiting.
After a week in Malaysia, they decided what they had seen in Thailand they liked, so they returned, knowing only too well that the money they had in their pockets at the time would not be enough to take them to Australia without having to struggle big time.
Khun Noi, Crutchley's long-trusted gardener, who through the years has become an integral part of the author's family. Tawatchai Kemgumnerd
What set in motion an opportunity to work in Thailand was a chance encounter with the principal of a Thai college on their flight from Calcutta to Bangkok. He offered Crutchley his first job in Bangkok as an economics teacher.
After a stint at teaching, he started working for the Bangkok Post newspaper where for the next couple of decades he wrote and edited for various sections and started his popular column Postscript. He was also sports editor for many years.
Thailand might never have been on the radar for young Crutchley, but after experiencing it up close, he liked what he saw, making the adjustment period less tumultuous.
"You couldn't get a better introduction to a culture shock than having buckets of water thrown over you for no apparent reason while walking down the street," Crutchley recalled of first arriving in Thailand at the start of Songkran. "It is important to accept you are in a different country with a very different culture and things are not going to be the same as in your homeland. In the early days, I had to stop myself saying, 'We don't do it like this in England'.
"To adapt requires a lot of patience and it is essential to keep a cool head. Losing your temper does not go down well in Thailand. Jai yen [cool-headedness] definitely beats jai rawn [hot-headedness]. If you still can't handle it, read Robert and Nanthapa Cooper's excellent book, Culture Shock Thailand."
Sharing his take on how Thai traditions and culture have evolved over the years, he said that although there is a marked increase in materialism today, Thai culture and traditions continue to remain intact.
"Admittedly, the Songkran festival has got out of hand in recent years, but it was always a bit on the boisterous side. One tradition I really appreciate is the custom of taking off your shoes when you enter a house. I know it's only a little thing, but in addition to helping keep the house clean, it is a sign of respect. In England, I find myself automatically taking my shoes off in other people's homes and feeling uncomfortable seeing the residents clomping about the house in their shoes. The wai is another wonderful aspect of Thai culture. I can't think of any other greeting that is more graceful."
On saving face, he continued: "It is very important to be aware of the Asian concept of saving face as it is a very tricky area for Westerners to fully comprehend. It is important not to make someone look bad in front of other people.
In Crutchley's column, he often referred to his maid Tong, better known to Post readers as Ms Yasothon, and her son Jak in the early 1980s.
"Working at a newspaper is no exception. Many Western journalists regularly experienced being shouted at in their early days in their own countries, but it was accepted as all part of the training. But in Thailand being shouted at is humiliating and will not induce a better performance. The best way to offer criticism is to take someone quietly aside and praise them for their work, but then suggest that perhaps it could even be better if they try what you suggest."
Sharing the highlights of his time with the Bangkok Post, Crutchley mused: "The Post felt almost like a family business when I arrived, even though it was soon to be taken over by press baron Lord Thomson of Fleet. There were of course no computers and it was a very different working environment ruled by typewriters. It was a small office and if you had a problem editing a story you would simply walk over to the reporter and discuss it with him or her. It was a great way of getting to know your colleagues.
"These days with everyone using computer terminals you find people sending electronic messages to one another even though they are sitting within speaking distance. It's got a lot more impersonal.
"For me, you couldn't beat the frantic sound of a typewriter when a reporter was belting out the next day's lead story and fighting an onrushing deadline. They were wonderful times."
Before Crutchley took his leave, we had to ask him what three characters he would always remember from the book. The ones he picked turned out to be rather amusing.
"An old lady who, with great reverence, passed around her late husband's false teeth for us all to inspect when we stayed at her farmhouse overnight in Koh Sukhon, just off the Trang coast," he said.
"The gentleman who gave me a lift on his motorcycle with two live roosters dangling from his handlebars, when I was stranded near the Lao border. We just made it to Ubon Ratchathani railway station in time for me to catch the Bangkok-bound express and he refused to accept any payment for what was a lengthy and hazardous journey.
"Finally, the Thai-Chinese owner of a cheap wooden hotel in Kanchanaburi who back in 1970 was so pleased to have a foreigner staying at his hotel he insisted I joined him and his family for supper every night I was there."
Crutchley, right, on a deserted wartime Cambodian beach with colleague Wayne Morrison in 1971.
