The main candle festival procession was scheduled for Sunday morning; but there was something planned for the Saturday evening so we decided to check it out.

Had to leave early in order to find somewhere to park, then a long walk; but eventually we were jammed against a barrier opposite the VIP stand. It was going to be one hour wait, and then we discovered that it would be a two hour wait. Then it was delayed by a further 30 minutes; by which time my legs and back were aching and I was feeling pretty pissed off and wishing I was somewhere else. Then it started to rain.

Up with the umbrella and we took it in turns to hold it while the other took photos. I might as well not have bothered with the photo bit. The GF1 has an on-board flash, OK for close-up shots but no good for longer distances. She who must be obeyed has an external flash for her Olympus; but the best I could do was strap on the monster flash from my Canon. Plenty of power, but no communication with the camera; so everything had to be set manually and the usual result was disaster. One shot that I really liked, even though it was the result of substantial under-exposure.

Other than that, almost nothing of note.

One hour of dancing in the drizzle with the occasional passing candle, and then it was over. Soggy walk back to the truck and then a fight back through the traffic to our room where a hot shower and a cold beer were required; followed by a mass delete of most of the photos.

Note to self: need flash for GF1.

If I had to rate the navigational skills of she who must be obeyed, I would give her a solid 9.9; out of ten thousand. Take her a kilometre away from home and she will never return without assistance. Ten minutes in a shopping mall and she will have no idea where the car is parked.

All the more surprising then, that when we were in her home town of Ubon Ratchahtani, she directed me down obscure side-streets in search of elusive shortcuts, and they all worked. She knew every road, every tiny sub soi; and always knew exactly where we were. I was extremely impressed and told her so in my usual charming way: “You are less crap than usual.”

So it was with some confidence that I accepted her proposal to make an afternoon visit to Sam Pan Bo, a collection of rocks a mere 70 kilometres away.

Two hours and 165 kilometres later, we arrived. Evening was approaching, there was a threat of rain, and there was no sign of the famous rocks. Apparently we had to take a boat, and the boat owner wanted 500 baht. Fortunately, we found some people to share the ride and soon we were standing on some rocks with holes in them. And that was the attraction, just some rocks with holes in them. Take a photo at sunrise or sunset and you might catch a red reflection in the water; but there was no sign of the setting sun. We had driven for two hours and taken an expensive boat ride to stand on some rocks which looked very similar to the rocks on my beach outside our condo.

In the midst of this natural wonder, there was one rock pool which was circular, with a couple of little pools on the side; such that it looked vaguely like the outline of a cartoon character. This was enough for the many other people who had been conned out of 500 baht for a ride in a boat; and a mass shriek of “Mickey Mouse! Mickey Mouse!” erupted, two fingers were raised, stupid grins put on faces, a happy memories of a mouse shaped pool moment were captured with cameras. I refused to indulge, although to be honest there was little else to photograph.

After all that excitement, we still had to get home. By the time we returned to the car it was getting dark and it had started to rain. We decided to take an alternative route back which looked shorter, but wasn’t.

Road repairs in Thailand are apparently administered at a very local level. We would do a few kilometres on smooth tarmac, cross into a different village area, and suddenly be on a surface more suitable to a rally stage. It was dark, wet and the road was narrow. It had been a long time since I had had to deal with such unpleasant driving conditions and all the time I was praying to a god that I do not believe in. Please, imaginary friend; no puncture.

She who must be obeyed has a thing about driving at night down country roads that are lined with trees. And the thing is, she doesn’t like it. There is no doubt in her mind that ghosts are lurking in the undergrowth and under no circumstances are we allowed to stop and open the doors.

Once we had reached the safety of Ubon after a round trip of 350 kilometres, I asked her what she would have done if we had stopped with a puncture. Apparently we would have locked the doors and waited until daylight; or until a lorry driven by a drunk plowed into the back of us. I think there would have been arguments. Thank you, imaginary friend.

A Canon 100-400mm lens will cost you around 60,000 baht and will fit in a rucksack. The Panasonic 45-200mm (effective 90-400mm on a M4/3 camera) will cost you around 12,000 baht and will fit in your pocket without anyone thinking you are pleased to see them.

Image quality is pretty good. The first of these shots is at 103mm, the second at 200mm. Panasonic GF1.

Up early to watch the candle festival procession, then 400 kilometers down the road and now stopped for the night in Sa Kaeo.

Too tired to even look at the day’s photos. Home tomorrow and then beware of endless photo galleries.

The Ubon candle festival features a competition between temples in the region. You can imagine that the first competition was won by a single decorative candle carried by a monk. Then one temple had the idea of enhancing their candle with a tiny statue, and then the whole thing got out of hand; and now the winning entries need to be towed by a lorry, like this one:

Built on a plaster and coconut strand base, this is all candle wax, with a single candle in the middle which will presumably be lit at some point. The amount of effort required to build such a monster is staggering, and when we went round a few temples yesterday, they were still hard at work preparing their entries.