Every now and again, I escape to the Northeast (Isan), more specifically the northernmost part of Chaiyaphum province, to relax, unwind, mellow out, chill out and hopefully not freak out. It is always a rewarding experience to shake off the madness of the Big Mango for a few days and settle into a pace of life that drifts between slow, very slow and practically dormant. That's something I can handle quite comfortably. In some ways it must resemble being transferred to an inactive post.
That's why last Sunday, with a group of Thai friends I was taking in a spectacular panorama across a large valley on the edge of the Nam Nao National Park. This is a vast track of hilly pine forest in the extreme northeast of Phetchabun where it borders Loei.
The view from the wonderfully located Baanson Coffee Hill was quite awesome, made even more spectacular by the rapidly changing weather conditions, prompting extraordinary cloud formations. From my perch -- okay, I was sitting in an extremely comfortable armchair sipping the tasty local coffee -- I could observe two separate storms raging at once at either end of the valley.
The accompanying lightning provided plenty of drama, but it was just far enough away not to be an immediate threat. It was like watching a giant landscape painting come to life.
The Thunderdome
Because of the rapidly changing conditions, the view of Phu Kradung, just across the valley was sometimes totally obliterated. The combination of rolling thunder, lightning strikes, misty mountain peaks and occasional sweeping rain was Mother Nature at its most majestic, putting on its own magnificent light and sound show.
Well, that's one way to spend a Sunday afternoon. Sorry if I got a bit carried away, but it felt rather special.
Little red rooster
During my stays in Chaiyaphum, or any place in the Northeast for that matter, a line from the Bob Dylan song Don't Think Twice It's Alright invariably springs to mind. You are probably familiar with "when the rooster crows at the break of dawn..." The song should be the Isan anthem, for there must be millions of roosters resident in the Northeast, all equally determined that nobody enjoys a morning lie-in.
The problem is that the roosters don't necessarily wait until the break of dawn to let forth. There is always at least one exhibitionist bird, usually close to my residence, that gets its timing wrong and starts blasting forth nearer 4am. Of course, once one rooster gets going, it starts the whole lot off and any hope of getting back to sleep are totally scuppered.
But at least it is natural noise.
Searching for the sound of silence
Try as you might, it is hard to escape intrusive sounds in Thailand. Admittedly you expect a big racket in Bangkok, and it would seem a very strange city if it were silent.
I once stayed at a friend's house on the banks of the Chao Phraya River in Bangkok, foolishly thinking it would be very soothing -- water lapping at the side of the house, the gentle chugging of the rice barges. However, I didn't get a wink of sleep thanks to the long-tailed boats that roared up and down all night.
It was a similar sorry tale at an otherwise idyllic klong-side house in Thon Buri. It felt like sleeping next to a Formula 1 race track.
Down on the farm
The Prime Minister's recent recommendation of the George Orwell novel Animal Farm raised a few eyebrows considering its potent satirical message on authoritarianism. Perhaps he had a soft spot for the grandfatherly figure of Old Major, despite the old pig being bit of a rebel. It was all slightly puzzling, bearing in mind that in 2014 a sandwich-munching protester was arrested for reading in public another of Orwell's novels, Nineteen Eighty-Four.
Back in 1945, Animal Farm was rejected by every major publishing house in Britain as publishers feared its message was too anti-Russian. It was published in France, but they cheekily changed the name of the villainous pig Napoleon to "Csar". One leading American publisher embarrassingly rejected it on the grounds that "it is impossible to sell animal stories in the United States."
The amazing aspidistra
With his budding interest in literature, perhaps the prime minister should launch a book club. It would be interesting to hear his views on another Orwell classic, Keep the Aspidistra Flying. For those unfamiliar with the aspidistra, it is a leafy plant from the Orient, but became a very popular potted plant in British homes during Victorian times because it didn't need much sunlight to survive. In Orwell's book the aspidistra is a symbol for middle class respectability and dullness.
The plant had a revival in 1938 when the popular English singer Gracie Fields released The Biggest Aspidistra in the World which became a wartime hit. In the song the aspidistra gets so big they end up watering it with "half a pint of Guinness a day". Now that's a plant with good taste.
'Our Gracie'
You can hear the original Aspidistra on YouTube and it's a blast, with Gracie's wonderful Lancashire accent really fitting the mood. No wonder "Our Gracie" as she was known, was granted the "Freedom of Rochdale" her home town, where she was born above a "chippy".
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