The rainstorms during the past week have been really refreshing. They've cooled things down a bit which is quite a relief after perspiring my way through April. I also appreciate the accompanying rolling thunder which provides a stirring theatrical soundtrack for the rain sloshing down. It's just another reminder of how powerful Mother Nature can be.
There was one unfortunate outcome from the wet weather, however. I arrived home during an early evening storm and sprinted, okay "tottered" in the darkness cross our small lawn. Unfortunately in doing so I trod on an innocent snail that had been enjoying a stroll. There was a grim crunching sound which confirmed the snail had sadly become an "ex-snail". I felt quite guilty about my role in the demise of the defenceless mollusc.
There have been previous wet garden encounters with toads and frogs, but at least they can hop out of the way. The snail didn't stand a chance. So for the sake of the Thai snail community, please watch your step on these dark and stormy nights.
Perhaps the most vulnerable creature for being squashed in the line of duty is the jing-jok (gecko). There's probably not a household in Thailand that does not have a family of jing-jok in residence. They are quite harmless and do a good job keeping down the mozzies.
Unfortunately, for all their undoubted skills at walking on the ceiling the jing-joks do sometimes fall off and have been known to make spectacular plunges unto the "soup of the day" at fancy restaurants. Probably adds to the flavour though.
Praising paella
The gastropod-squashing incident brought to mind a totally different snail experience as a teenager in Spain in the 1960s. I was on a cheap package holiday with a school friend sampling the delights of Torremolinos. The rundown hotel had given us coupons for our meals which we could only use at an equally rundown restaurant.
The coupons just about covered the cost of a paella and nothing else. After a while we got fed up with paella but the only other dish we could afford on the menu was escargot, or snails as we Brits call them. So for the rest of the fortnight we ate snails.
When I returned home one of the first things my mother asked was about the food. She would have fainted if I had told her we survived on snails so I said we loved the paella. I don't think she had ever heard of paella but it sounded quite fancy so she was relieved her son had been eating proper food on his holiday.
Slow going
Snails have rarely enjoyed good treatment in the literary world as they are always associated with extreme slowness, as in the most common expression, "snail's pace". And don't get fooled by "snail's gallop" which is still very much on the slow side. Then we have "snail mail" which is a reference to the traditional sending of letters in the time-consuming way with envelopes and postage stamps.
When I was a kid snails received an unintentional boost courtesy of a British Rail advertising campaign with a slogan announcing "It's quicker by rail". The posters were soon defaced by unhappy passengers adding the message "It's quicker by snail", probably the only time in history snails have been praised for their speed.
Galloping gastropods
Snails are of course featured in an enduring nursery rhyme in which we are told little boys are made of "slugs and snails and puppy dog tails''.
In more recent years snails were given a morale boost with a children's book by Chilean author Luis Sepulveda with the wonderful title The Story of a Snail Who Discovered the Importance of Being Slow.
Another bold attempt to shake off the slow snail stereotype is the World Snail Racing Championships in the Norfolk village of Congham. Races take place on a table with a damp cloth. The snails have to scamper just over a foot and reportedly undergo "a rigorous training regime". For the curious, the record for the 33-centimetre sprint is two minutes set by Archie the gastropod.
Arboreal mugging
Readers may recall a PostScript item in 2023 concerning the destruction by vandals of an iconic sycamore tree in the northern England county of Northumberland. The 300-year-old "Sycamore Gap Tree" was located next to Hadrian's Wall and stood out as the solitary tree in a natural dip in the hills. Its striking silhouette was familiar worldwide.
What puzzled everyone was why anyone would want to use a chainsaw on such a majestic tree, reducing it to a sorry stump. Two men were arrested and last week were found guilty of destroying the tree, but refused to explain their motive. The prosecution called it: "The arboreal equivalent of a mindless mugging."
Robin's tree
The famous tree and Hadrian's Wall featured in scenes from the Kevin Costner 1991 film Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves and has often been referred to as "The Robin Hood Tree".
The culprits will be sentenced next month. I would suggest an appropriate punishment might be for them to be ordered to stand guard at the site of the former tree for the next few years and explain to disappointed tourists why there isn't a tree there anymore. Mind you it could lead to a few punch-ups.
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