Day 28. The Thai candy can go the other extreme. Salty. I like a little but not with my raisins. Fortunately there is always a kid nearby to take it off your hands. A sweetheart asked me to help her write a letter to her English boyfriend. She says translators can cost a fortune and she’d stopped after 5 lines. (Do I smell some money?) Anyway she’d been in a motorcycle accident and needed a delicately worded request for $300.
After a half-dozen people who ought to know swore up and down there are no cassette tapes in Phuket, I find all kings of fully equipped shops with great English selections. Big shops, some less than two blocks from where I first asked. (I wonder if these people know anyone in Santa Cruz, CA.)
Peter the Finn decides to get a haircut. They shaved him Apache-style punk. Now people believe use when we say we play guitars. I rented a Honda 125 for 5 days. If I’m stuck here, I’ll enjoy it. Ned has disappeared and faces 2 to 5 years for his trouble—and his house is being watched. I plan to move to Patong on the 8th.
My original ticket has that side trip to India, so I’ve been listening to travelers coming out of there. They agree on one point, that the Indian press is downplaying the seriousness of the assassination backlash. The local transport has been closed to foreigners and only ongoing flights are allowed in Delhi.
Now I met one character who says he was in Delhi on the day in question. He tells a story about trainloads of dead Sihk bodies, over 1,000, coming into the marshalling yards. Everything over-orchestrated to give the impression he’s don’t is all first hand, expertly dodging cross-examination. Far too many cosmetic mannerisms, even the pipe [he smoked] is a damn prop. He tells the best tales but I give it one chance in four he has actually been there. The others report mainly traveling inconvenience, so my plan is still to go.
Pete and I tried a Thai pizza. You have to as for cheese in some cases and the spice kills it. Pizza isn’t that flavorful anyway, but the pepper or chili here was so hot I couldn’t taste anything else. What do you expect for 60 Baht in an economy based on selling each other beer, rice and pineapples? Still, it’s the most expensive mean I’ve had in Thailand.
[Author’s note: The referral to Santa Cruz results from trying to get directions from the locals back out to the freeway two months ago. They had a lot of trouble with that. Ned was a Thai thief who stole $600 and got caught. They are watching his house because he ran for it. Read elsewhere for a description of a Thai jail.]
