Joe Boy Walton

I see what you did there.

I'm shocked!!

Girl at the Doctors "I have a pain in my rear end" Dr asks "Where?" "Around the entrance" says she. "There's your problem" says the Doc 'It's an exit"

In 2019 I was struck by a motorbike while walking past a market in Hua Hin. The motorbike which struck me had itself been hit by a passing Toyota 4WD (hit and run). I was Ok, bit banged up and, fortunately, my robust body shape acted as cushioning between the young female bike rider and the pile of wooden pallets i ended up back planting on. She was fine. The people from the market were fantastic, looked after me til the police came, gave comprehensive descriptions of the car and driver to police (including rego number) I was taken to hospital by a policeman, where it was all explained to the hospital staff and the only cost to me was 28 ozzy dollars for extra pain relief. I cannot fault any part of the process (except the dingus in the Toyota) and feel myself very lucky to have got out of it with a few splinters and bruises. I also got a free haircut and some fruit, but that's another story.

Irrespective of 80kph versus 177kph, dragging someone 200 metres is pretty effed up!

He is undercover.

I, for one, always fancied tooting a party blower at the arrivals lounge when incoming, just seems to me to be a fab way to start the next round of dodging begpackers, russians, topless germans, chinese pushers & spitters, pedestrians more interested in their phones than in collisions with the general populace, saudi shirt salesmen, tuk tuk racketeers, paedos, privileged aggressive drunks of all persuasions and the smell of ganja wafting down every highway, byway and alley. "The human condition can be summed up in just one word, and this is the word: Embarrassment." Kilgore Trout

I used to drink and drive but my stubby kept falling off the dashboard.

something something control the present, rewrite the past Actually: "What you do in this world is a matter of no consequence. The question is what can you make people believe you have done"? Arthur Conan Doyle.

Joop

Is that what they call it now?

I keep saying “back in the day” to my friends but Thailand has always been a land of contrasts, but nowhere is this more evident than in the transformation from the tranquil, slower-paced nation of decades past ( I first came here in the 70s) to today's vibrant, bustling modern and ambitious country. Yet remarkably, the soul of old Thailand still beats strongly beneath the contemporary surface. Walk into Wat Pho or Wat Arun at dawn today, and you might catch a glimpse of old Thailand—monks in saffron robes gliding silently across ancient courtyards, the scent of incense drifting through the air. But by mid-morning, these same sacred spaces fill with tour groups, selfie sticks and the constant click of cameras. The old Thailand offered temples as living spiritual centres where locals came to pray, meditate, and seek blessings in peaceful contemplation. Today's temples still serve this purpose, but they've also become major tourist attractions, complete with entrance fees, souvenir shops, and dress code enforcement stations. The spirituality remains, but it now coexists with commercialisation in ways that would have been unimaginable fifty years ago. The floating markets of old Thailand were genuine trading posts where farmers paddled their produce-laden boats to sell fresh fruits, vegetables, and fish to local communities. These were early morning affairs, practical and essential, where bargaining was an art form conducted in quiet tones over cups of sweet tea. Today's floating markets like Damnoen Saduak have become theatrical performances of their former selves—crowded with tourists by 8 AM, vendors selling identical souvenirs alongside traditional goods, and prices inflated to match visitors' expectations. Meanwhile, modern Bangkok boasts sprawling weekend markets like Chatuchak, where 15,000 stalls create a maze of everything imaginable. The old charm of intimate market interactions has been replaced by the adrenaline rush of navigating seas of humanity in search of bargains. Yet look closer, and you'll still find authentic local markets in neighbourhoods across Thailand, my local was in Kumphawapi —the ones where ajummas (grandmothers) still sell som tam made to order, where prices are marked in Thai only, and where the rhythm of daily life continues much as it always has. Old Thailand's food culture was simple, regional, and deeply connected to what the land and sea provided. A bowl of boat noodles cost a few baht and was eaten quickly while squatting on a wooden stool. Street vendors knew their customers by name and their spice preferences by heart. Food was fuel, community, and tradition rolled into one. Modern Thailand has become a global culinary destination. Bangkok now boasts multiple Michelin-starred restaurants serving deconstructed Thai cuisine on ceramic art pieces. Food halls in gleaming malls offer air-conditioned comfort and fusion dishes that blend Thai flavours with Japanese, Italian, and American influences. Instagram-worthy cafes serve blue pea flower lattes and charcoal-infused desserts. But remarkably, the street food culture hasn't disappeared—it's evolved. The same pad thai and grilled pork skewers still sizzle on carts across the country, often right next to shopping malls selling luxury brands. You can still find that authentic bowl of tom yum for 40 baht from a vendor who's been in the same spot for thirty years, even as Michelin inspectors scout nearby for the next food sensation. The famous Thai smile and the cultural concept of "sanuk" (having fun) remain central to Thai identity, but the pace of life has accelerated dramatically. The old Thailand was agricultural, with time measured by rice planting seasons and temple festivals. People had time to chat, to help strangers, to sit and simply be. Today's Thais, especially in urban areas, navigate the same pressures as city dwellers worldwide—traffic jams, smartphone notifications, work deadlines, and economic stress. The famous Thai friendliness is still genuine, but interactions are often briefer, more transactional. Yet step into a small shop, ask for directions, or show interest in someone's family, and you'll often find that old warmth resurfaces immediately. In rural areas, the old Thai way of life persists more clearly. Villages still revolve around temples and family, elders are deeply respected, and community bonds remain strong. The contrast between rural and urban Thailand today mirrors the contrast between old and new throughout the entire country. Old Thailand's shopping meant browsing small family-owned shops along narrow streets, where the owner's grandmother might be sewing silk in the back room and three generations worked the same counter. Purchases came with stories, tea, and genuine relationships built over time. Modern Thailand features some of Asia's most spectacular shopping malls—Siam Paragon, Central World, IconSiam—air-conditioned temples of consumerism with international brands, cinemas, aquariums, and food courts that rival any in the world. Night markets have been reimagined as trendy night bazaars with craft beer gardens and live music. Yet even here, the old survives. Tucked between gleaming towers, you'll find shop-houses that have operated for generations, selling the same quality silk, hand-carved teak, or herbal remedies their great-grandparents sold. The skill is the same, the pride is the same—only the competition has changed. Perhaps the most beautiful thing about Thailand is that it hasn't fully chosen between old and new—it's created a sometimes chaotic, always fascinating blend of both. A Buddhist monk might use a smartphone to livestream morning prayers. A tuk-tuk driver navigates using GPS while chatting about his village in Isaan. A grandmother's recipe becomes a trending hashtag. The hurly-burly of modern Thailand—the construction cranes, the Skytrain, the startup culture, the influencer economy—coexists with the old-time charm of temple festivals, traditional dance, careful wai greetings, and that infectious philosophy of mai pen rai (never mind, it's okay). This isn't always comfortable. The rapid development has brought pollution, traffic, and cultural stress. The preservation of old ways sometimes feels like a losing battle against economic forces. But Thailand's genius has always been adaptation without complete surrender, change without total loss of identity. The thing I like a lot about living here is starting my morning at a centuries-old temple, lunch at a street cart that's been family-run for decades, shopping in a mall that could be anywhere in the world or ending my day at a rooftop bar with views of both ancient spires and modern skyscrapers, all glittering in the tropical night. That's Thailand now—a beautiful, complicated conversation between past and present, where the old-time charm hasn't disappeared but has instead learned to dance with the hurly-burly of today.

I just completed this quiz. My Score 16/100 My Time 64 seconds  

Doesn't really grab my attention ....

Under blanket late night drunken beach sex ..... I'll file the application.