Pattaya Days

Ladies polo tournament time again, and once again there are not enough lady players to make up four teams, so each team is allowed one Argentinian professional to help them out. Last year, the macho gauchos entered into the spirit of the occasion:

This year there was no sign of wigs or balloons. “We don’t like to do it”, confided one of the gauchos. Dressing up as ladies, even as a joke, is clearly contrary to the manly Argentinian polo player image. Shame, I think they looked rather cute.

Fede made a small gesture of gender differentiation with a discarded baggage sticker:

Although this hardly matches his effort of last year:

But on the last day, a gaucho broke ranks and made a, not very convincing, attempt at female impersonation:

Clearly, he had no idea about hair care and had to be attended to by one of his teammates.

How he giggled with delight when he went on to win the Miss Shiny Hair competition:

Although I think he would have won more convincingly with a couple of balloons up his jumper.

Hello; have you missed me as much as I’ve missed you? Really?

Don’t know where the week went. First off, I was totally knackered after travelling and photographing and posting and generally doing stuff. Plus staying up too late with she who must be obeyed as she attended to her ever-expanding farm and pet empires on Facebook. Plus assorted chores that you wouldn’t want to know about (fixing a toilet roll holder, for example), none of which offered sufficient comedic content to make them worth writing about. And then it was she who must be obeyed’s two day “weekend”; can’t remember what we did but it took up the time. Oh, and I went windsurfing briefly which totally destroyed my body the following morning.

And now I have just returned from 3 days of shooting polo, with 2,500 photos to process before the next tournament starts in four days time; so I am exhausted again. Feel a little like this guy….

…who was meant to be photographing his wife playing polo and fell asleep instead. Still, as he was shooting with a Nikon that is probably the best thing to do (oh, you bitch).

Sorry for the interruption, some sort of normal service may now be resumed; but first I need to sleep.

It’s very rare that I have a problem with the food in Thailand. She who must be obeyed is less fortunate, entirely due to her insistence in eating dishes which are so spicy that people on adjoining tables having watering eyes and hacking coughs. One taste of her choice and my mouth is in ruins for hours, I don’t know how she does it. But I do know there is often a price to pay when the evil foodstuffs make their way through her digestive system.

Last night she disappeared into the toilet for at least half an hour. This is not unusual, she takes the laptop and often gets carried away with some cow raising issues in Farmville, or similar nonsense. But last night she emerged looking a little weak and said “I wouldn’t go in there for an hour or so”. Luckily, I never got the chance to challenge her warning, because she was back in the room of fumes on a regular basis for the next couple of hours. By bedtime she was looking a little sad.

I had an unopened packet of Imodium, emergency rations which I took to India but never needed; so she took one of those and prepared to take her aching tummy to bed. But one final laptop session and she suddenly took her ailing body into the kitchen and came back chewing something.

What are you eating?
Chocolate!!
Chocolate???
Mmmm, M&Ms.
Why? You are sick, you should not be eating anything.
It said in the internet that it would help (which means end of argument because it must be true).

Chocolate and Imodium, an interesting combination with which to assault the digestive tract.

Of course, this morning she felt fine, just to annoy me. I got my own back by eating the remainder of the rather substantial bag of M&Ms. Now I am feeling a little queasy; maybe I should eat some more.

So here we are, February 1st, and my Wordpress statistics tell me that Pattaya Days had more than 6,000 visits last month; smashing the previous record of 5,000 by, well, 1,000.

So, well done you lot and thanks for visiting. Clearly the process of not posting for a week works well. Maybe I should try not posting for two weeks; or as some may be thinking, for ever.

Anyway, the not so good news for you; I have at least seven days of polo shooting coming up this month which means an inevitable deluge of horsey shots. Also, my “exciting things happening in Pattaya this month” calendar, which is never exactly stuffed, is depressingly empty. Never mind, something will turn up.

So please keep the comments coming. Apart from Walter, he can fuck off.

This post contains photographs of consenting adults involved in sweaty action, on and around a bed. By clicking on “more” you are confirming that you are over 18 and will not hold the management of Pattaya Days responsible for any psychological trauma that may ensue. Proceed at your own risk (you smutty perv).
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Today was the final of the King’s Cup Polo Tournament. I was not involved in shooting it; but the nice ladies from Polo Escape sent me an invitation to the event, held near Bangkok; so it would have been churlish to refuse.

Problem was, the invitation included a dress code, “smart casual”. As she who must be obeyed was quick to observe (a bit too quickly I felt), I do casual really well, but smart is a bit beyond me. I used to be able to make myself reasonably presentable; but once I stopped working, any clothes that could be identified with “office” were quickly disposed of. I now have a couple of pairs of jeans, enough T-shirts for a week, and a pair of sandals; oh, and some underwear in various stages of decomposition but that is best not discussed further.

Still, I resurrected a serviceable pair of trousers, something with a semblance of a collar; and then ruined any chance of presentability with a pair of scruffy black sneakers; my only pair which I keep for special occasions. Looking cheap but cheerful, I headed for Bangkok.

The polo events at Pattaya are relaxed and devoid of any pretentiousness. The big events in Bangkok bring out the “see and be seen” high society crowd and feel far from comfortable in their company, and not just because of my crappy clothing. I am not sure what my values are, or if I even have any, but they certainly don’t match with the sort of people who turn up to these events. I also don’t think I would be very good at being rich; mainly because, if I had a pile of cash, I would immediately spend it on one (or all) of these cars which were on display, and then I would be poor again:

Today I decided on the orange Lambo; but I might change my mind tomorrow. I am so fickle.

There was a marching band before the polo match:

And other entertainment:

Girls with hats:

And, not that many people were watching, polo:

Can’t tell you who won (I expect it was Thailand), because I had to leave early for another appointment (oh, the social whirl!), the official opening of The View restaurant on the beach next to the windsurfing club. More cars I wouldn’t mind owning:

And a load of people having a good time on the beach:

Felt more at home with the windsurfing crowd; but still slightly troubled about whether I have made the right decision with that orange Lambo.

And it looks like someone is being kneed in the nuts on the bottom right.

Pretty much exhausted the location reports from our trip to Chiang Rai and Chiang Mai; here are a few shots that were left over:

Karen girl:

Pretty maids all in a row:

The bells! The bells!:

Won’t keep the rain out:

Caught eating a cake:

Night bar:

Buddha blue sky:

Normally, my trips involve a twelve kilo backpack full of DSLR and lenses. This time I had a small shoulder bag with a Panasonic GF1 and two lenses, a total weight of less than two kilos. It was liberating. I could carry it anywhere without any hassle. It was quick to bring into use, discrete and fast. And the quality of the output was more than satisfactory. There was not a moment when I wished I had my Canon 1D, and plenty of times when I was glad to have the GF1 in my hands. Never going to take the 1D travelling again; unless it is for a sports assignment.

And she who must be obeyed had a happy time with the LX3. This is one of her captures:

I have seen the future of cameras, and they are small.