Today, I’ve started teaching an eight-week course in how to use the internet. The intention is to educate three of our older residents – Kai, Joy and Yut (pictured below) - in how to get the most out of the web. Along the way, we’ll be covering email, social networking, searching for information, and all manner of useful techniques. We hope that it will be useful, fun and ultimately develop vocational skills which will improve their employment prospects.

The training is part of a BBC World Service project, where selected young people around the globe will be following a similar syllabus to see what, if any, impact the technology has on them. Each has their own special needs, their own cultural perspective and their own environment. How will the internet be able to help them? It should be interesting to find out – and I’m not sure anyone has all the answers. Over the next few weeks, the BBC will be charting our progress, and we’ll be able to discover more about the hopes and dreams of each participant. It’s really exciting.

It’s also hard. In English, I would be able to deliver the course content without even thinking. And I would suspect that every child in the British education system at present would take the internet entirely for granted. Not so here. I’m having to think very hard about how to communicate in Thai, and to find appropriate examples which are relevant in the culture. Using a mouse and keyboard is something entirely new to two of my three apprentices, and even reading is a challenge for one of them. But they are very keen to learn, and they’re also very good at helping each other. Which is just as well, as I’m as much use as a chocolate teapot when confronted with questions such as ‘phɔɔ phaan yuu thiinai?’ (‘Where is the letter phɔɔ phaan on the keyboard?’).

Before we started, Joy handed me a letter. It reminded me that I might be the teacher in this instance, but that I’ve still got a lot to learn.

‘My name is Joy and I am excited to start learning the computer with Khun David. I am very happy [to be] given this privilege on how to use the computer.

‘I pray that God will help me to be more attentive to learn the computer, and for me to learn it fast. I will try to be successful in learning this new knowledge.

‘I am praying to God to bless my computer teacher.’

The simplicity of the letter took me aback.  I hadn’t expected such a lovely start to the course, and it was humbling to realise that my students were praying for me.

Would you pray for them too, please?

That’s Burmese for ‘happy birthday’. In Burmese script, it looks rather like this:

Funky, eh?

Don’t worry. We’re still in Thailand. But as my birthday is shared with our Burmese friend Lily, the opportunity for a double celebration was too good to pass up. When asked how she would like to spend the day, Lily made the unprompted suggestion of visiting Sizzler for Sunday lunch. Clearly a woman of excellent taste.

So, after church we scurried off to eat copious amounts of healthy salad from the eminently well-stocked buffet. Being a member of the Sizzler loyalty club, I was entitled to a free main course too. Alas, I had miscalculated my stomach capacity, and some of the marinated chicken and breaded shrimps obstinately refused to be squeezed in. Lily has just returned from a couple of weeks back home in Yangon, and presented me with a birthday present she’d bought for me in one of the local markets there - a rather snazzy T-shirt with the Burmese alphabet emblazoned upon it. Sarah contended that it would be useful next time we were on the border – she could just prod me in order to communicate with the locals.

Barely able to move, we proceeded (gingerly) to the bowling alley at the nearby MBK shopping centre. Lily had never played ten-pin bowling before, but took to it enthusiastically. She gave Sarah a run for her money, though Mrs Giles didn’t help herself by forgetting which way the ball was supposed to go.

The birthday boy, I’m pleased to say, won both rounds in convincing fashion. Lily decided that celebratory ice creams were required at this juncture and it would have been culturally inappropriate to decline. We descended upon the nearest Swensen’s emporium, which was about 17 paces from the bowling alley.

Exhausted from my over-eating/bowling prowess/advancing years, I decided not to join the female members of the party as they embarked upon a three-mall shopping expedition. Instead, I sat quietly in a McDonald’s, wondering if I’d ever have room to ingest another McNugget.

Thanks to those of you who sent cards, and for the various electronic greetings. It was a bit of a different birthday being so far away from home, but – sadly – it’s not possible to put ageing on hold until our return to the UK. Shame, really.

STOP PRESS: Thank you also to the supplier of non-electronic birthday chocolate. You are wonderful.

Having done justice to KL’s markets and metro system, we moseyed off to Singapore. Finding the right place to wait for the 08:25 train to the south was not a trivial matter, and we were told by two separate members of KTM staff to wait in what later transpired to be the wrong place. My stress levels were elevated when, just about two minutes before the scheduled departure, the right place to wait became apparent. Fortunately, this discovery was made in the nick of time, and we successfully descended into the underbelly of the station complex where our train was waiting.

Departure was just a couple of minutes late, and we settled back into our seats for the journey. It was not as scenic as the ride down from Butterworth, but it was interesting nevertheless. Less good was the air-conditioning which was, in technical parlance, clapped out. It finally lost the battle an hour or so before the border with Singapore, despite valiant attempts by the on-train staff to revive it. This meant that the inevitable hanging-around-waiting-for-immigration-officials-to-do-whatever-they-do was distinctly uncomfortable. Even the Malaysian passengers were decidedly hot around the collar, until one enterprising railway official found a carriage key to unlock the emergency windows.

We pulled into the platform at Woodlands, where we had to get off the train and push our luggage around the station – ostensibly for Singaporean customs to check for illicit materials, such as working aircon. The immigration officer who stamped our passports was pleasantly chirpy, and spotting my date of birth wished me a happy birthday. The railway staff on the platform were somewhat less friendly, and considered our attempts at taking a photo of the station sign to be little short of international terrorism. Shhh. Don’t tell anyone about this clear threat to national security.

As we reboarded the still hot-and-stuffy train for the final half hour into Keppel Road station, spirits were raised by a rumour that compensation was to be awarded. We had our tickets endorsed by the guard, who advised us to take them to the ticket office for some money back. The ticket office clerk, on the other hand, had different ideas when I huffed and puffed my way across the concourse. ‘You paid by credit card,’ he said wearily. ‘So cannot give cash.’ Eventually, it transpired that the princely sum of £1.50 would be credited back to my account. Woo hoo!

We found our way to the B&B, which was on the 25th floor of a tower block overlooking the railway. To be more accurate, it was on the 25th floor of a different tower block to the one we’d been given the address of. So, by the time we’d checked in and ventured out for the evening, we’d ascended/descended 100 storeys. Which felt like twice the distance between Earth and the Moon by this point.

It didn’t take us long to realise that Singapore is almost certainly the most expensive place to eat in the known universe. We trembled as we perused the pages of menus outside the nearby eateries. Fortunately, we happened upon The Jolly Frog, which suggested that they offered a ‘free barbecue’ on Friday nights. ‘Free’ is a word that we like Very Much Indeed, so in we went. It was the sort of place where a three-course meal requires a second mortgage, but undeterred, we ordered a couple of drinks. The free food was delivered, somewhat reluctantly it must be said, about 45 minutes later – presumably the idea is that freeloaders like us get fed up of waiting, and order more overpriced beverages in desperation. It didn’t take us long to chomp our way through a solitary sausage, some meagre shreds of bacon, a mini corn on the cob (each) and a small potato (to share). It also didn’t take us long to realise we’d need a different financial strategy to survive a whole weekend in Singapore without going into receivership.

Saturday dawned, and we determined to eat as much of the (inclusive) breakfast as possible, in order to ward off hunger pangs later in the day. It was a reasonable offering of scrambled eggs and a hash brown, served with toast, homemade jam and some fruit. We then made our way to the nearest MRT station, where we almost managed to buy a three-day Singapore Tourist Pass. ‘Almost’, because it wasn’t available at that station, but it was on sale two stations down the line. Once armed with the required travel card, we could be confident that at least we had our transport costs under control.

Our travels then took us to Singapore Zoo, where we whiled away several hours admiring otters, tigers, preboscis monkeys, orang utans, mouse deer and the like. In fact, there is nothing like a mouse deer. The zoo was the very model of Singapore efficiency – well laid out, and with plenty of opportunities to spend/lose a great deal of money. KFC ensured that we managed to eat without causing too much walletary damage, though their ’salad’ was about 0.001% of the size indicated by their publicity material. It required a second dose of otters before we were ready to face the real world again.

We returned to the metro, and caught a train around the northern loop line to Bukit Batok. In an amazing display of multi-modal transport planning that even the Scandinavians would be proud of, the shuttle bus to Ikea arrived at exactly the same time we did. And so to a small part of Sweden within Singapore. The primary reason for our visit was to avail ourselves of some low cost dinner, and we were pleased to discover that the trademark meatballs were very much in evidence. We were less pleased to discover that the staff member tasked with dispensing lingonberry jam was, in some way, related to Ebenezer Scrooge.

Sunday included a visit to South East Asia’s most highly regarded scrapbooking shop, which engrossed Mrs Giles for several hours. It was a timely visit, as it was the final day of a cut-price sale prior to the shop being refurbished. Phew. The effect of the sale was to reduce ‘extortionate’ to merely ‘expensive’, but several purchases were made. Lunch at a ‘buy one get one free’ venue was thwarted by the fact that the comprehension skills of the author had failed to notice that Sundays were excluded from said offer. Another hit to the bank balance – ouch.

The only activity left to your penniless correspondents was to take full advantage of the Singapore Tourist Passes. A thorough track-bash of (almost) every conceivable metro and LRT line ensued which, as even Mrs Giles conceded, was fascinating. Even the Punggol Loop, from which was seen an impressive array of kites. Hats off to Singapore’s urban planners, who have managed to shoehorn in an incredible amount of office and residential space, whilst still retaining green and unspoilt areas.

The final stop on Sunday was Chinatown, which was a seething mass of stall holders, bargain hunters and hawkers. We tucked in to some delicious street food for dinner – chicken satay with a very spicy peanut sauce. It was so good that we had to order a second portion.

Monday morning saw me joining the Singapore commuter rush, for a meeting with one of CCD’s major donors in the city. The office was so far up that I thought I would need oxygen, but fortunately altitude sickness did not set in. The meeting went very well, and the new edition of Spectrum magazine was favourably received. It was so useful to be able to meet the donor in person, to thank them for their generous support and to leave some candles made by the children as just a small thank you present.

Returning to the B&B by bus, I enjoyed the sights of the famous Raffles Hotel and the gleaming Singapore Museum building. Reunited with Sarah, we checked out and made our way by train to the airport, for our flight back to Bangkok.

Foregoing the hotel breakfast was not as devastating a prospect as might usually be the case. Instead, we had to get to the Georgetown ferry terminal by 7am, in order to ensure that we reached the railway station in time for our train onwards. This was achieved easily, and we arrived at Butterworth with a good half hour to spare.

Sarah whiled away the wait by perusing the magazines available at the station kiosk. It was refreshing to find English-language publications available at local prices. I, on the other hand, had a poke around the station to see what was happening. My first observation was that the train we were due to catch had not yet arrived from the sidings, but a shunting locomotive was idling away merrily which suggested something was about to happen.

As it happens, the 7:45am KTM Intercity train to KL (and ultimately Singapore) didn’t even pull into the platform until its booked departure time, and there was plenty of time for photos before it was ready to leave. We found our seats easily, and were surprised at how comfortable the carriage was. With a blast on the horn, the train chugged out of the station about half an hour behind schedule.

The first twenty minutes saw us retracing our steps to Bukit Mertajam junction, where the line to Padang Besar diverges. From here on, there was new scenery to enjoy. Suburbia slowly transformed into countryside, with some pleasant views across lakes towards misty hills in the distance. Not long after departure, an attendant brought us a goodie bag containing a bottle of water and a sweet red bean bun.

The highlight of the journey was from Parit Buntar onwards, where the line skirts dense jungle on one side and a river gorge on the other. Most of the countryside we passed through was sparsely populated, and it wasn’t until we reached Ipoh that we encountered any major settlements. From hereonin, the newly relaid track is shared with KTM Komuter trains into KL, and it was possible to make up a few minutes’ time.

Arrival at Kuala Lumpur’s Sentral station was still about 25 minutes late, though, which left us insufficient time to make it to our connecting service. Instead, we availed ourselves of a conveniently located McDonald’s on the station concourse, before locating the ticket office for the KLIA Transit train.

Convincing the ticket clerk that I really did want to travel all the way to the airport on the slower Transit train (rather than the Ekspres train which is roughly five minutes quicker) was not easy. It was even more perplexing for him when I tried to explain that we weren’t even checking in at the airport. Mercifully, my persuasive powers won the day with just a couple of minutes to go before the next departure to KL International Airport.

En route, we encountered a torrential tropical downpour which didn’t faze the train driver in the slightest. The KLIA rail link is a brand new line, and speeds are high – the Transit service is one of the quickest trains anywhere in South East Asia.

We got to the airport at 3:45pm, and transferred to a taxi for the final leg to Port Dickson. Again, the ride was interesting – we passed the Malaysia Formula 1 track at Sepang, before entering a seemingly endless palm tree plantation. It appears that a company called Sime Darby has bought up vast swathes of land across Malaysia in order to grow palm trees for their oil.

On arrival at our hotel, we checked in to our room (surprisingly spacious and comfortable – and with good sea views). And then it was straight into our agency conference, for the next eight days.

This is the view from the ferry between Butterworth and the island of Penang, approaching Georgetown. We arrived on a ferry like the one pictured on Saturday afternoon, straight off the train from Thailand. I would say ‘fresh from the train’, but after a 23-hour journey, that would be less than accurate.

Having arrived and checked in to our hotel (which can be described in three words: cheap, windowless, disappointing), we went out in search of sustenance, found something that would pass as edible, then returned to our room, disposed of four cockroaches (Mr Giles always does this in a chivalrous manner while I squeal like a girl) and went to sleep.

Sunday was rather more pleasing. We caught the bus (a lovely new shiny one with great air conditioning) to the foot of Penang Hill (also known as Flagstaff Hill, Bukit Bendera, and Strawberry Hill). There is a funicular railway up to the top, and Mr Giles was keen to add this to his list of Railway Lines He Has Travelled. Here he is with our tickets, looking pleased.

And here I am, also with the tickets, mustering my best ‘I’m really delighted with these train tickets’ expression. Convinced?

So. After an hour-long wait which we passed by eating a Cornetto each (I could have managed a better pleased expression at that stage, but it was melting too quickly for photos), we boarded the funicular. It’s Swiss-built, you know. Those clever Swiss. They know a thing or two about trains and hills. Here is one of the two passing loops. Exciting, isn’t it?

Now it gets interesting.

Once at the top (which was considerably cooler than the rest of the island) we happened upon a very enticing English restaurant which we hadn’t known was there. It was wonderful. A colonial-style building, a lovely garden…

…cocktails on the lawn (don’t panic, sponsors, it’s just mango juice)…

…and Proper English Food: fish and chips for him, roast lamb for me.

It was wonderful. A cool breeze, even a little nip in the air. We could almost have been in Hampshire, but for a small interruption by some wild monkeys…

…and for the slightly strange ‘fruit crumble’ which turned out to be a grape, melon, strawberry and pineapple arrangement. The custard was good though.  

We admired the flowers, basked in the unfamiliar delight of being simultaneously cold and outside… and then returned to Fawlty Towers.

On the Monday, there was also a bit of exploring of Chinatown and Little India, but I am saving my Chinatown stories for Kuala Lumpur and Singapore, so here is just a taster.

Mr Giles will continue the story… I’ll see you in KL.

The journey to Penang went surprisingly well, all things considered. Yes, the train was thirty minutes late leaving Bangkok, and the overnight ride was more of a rural ramble than an international express. But on the plus side, before settling down for the night, we somehow ended up with three dinners. This was more than a little confusing for all concerned, not least the stewardess who tried valiantly to work out where to put everything in the diminutive surroundings of our sleeper berth. No matter – at least I got my duck curry, which was appropriately delicious.

The train’s lateness didn’t mean that we got an extra half hour in bed, sadly. Our breakfast was delivered before the crack of dawn. For those interested in on-train dining, the fodder included ham and cheese sandwiches served with fries and orange juice. Sarah had chosen the vegetarian option, which included ham and cheese sandwiches served with fries and orange juice…

Arriving at Hat Yai station just before 7am, we were unceremoniously plonked on to the platform. Only two carriages of the ten continue into Malaysia, and ours was not one of them. By the time we’d sauntered up towards the front of the train, a strangely complicated shunting procedure was in operation. Alarmingly, we were prohibited from boarding either of the carriages bound for Butterworth, but instead directed to an adjacent platform. Watching the to-ing and fro-ing of the rolling stock caused a temporary haitus in my general stress levels, especially when the remnant of the train lurched off towards the border without us. Thankfully, the ensemble returned to where we’d been told to wait and we hastily embarked before it had a chance to make any further unexpected moves.

We were joined on this part of the journey by a travelling moneychanger. Surprisingly, he offered some rather attractive rates and we converted some of our Thai baht into Malaysian ringgit. The border at Padang Besar was a further thirty minutes down the line, and after pausing briefly at the barbed wire fenced frontier, we arrived at the immigration checkpoint. Here, we had to get off the train again – with all our luggage. The process was rather labour intensive, but we were entertained during the wait by posters such as this one:

There was little else to do at Padang Besar station except buy fruit, which didn’t take very long to achieve. Eventually, after yet another locomotive change, the train continued its journey south at just after 10am. We were struck by just how different the scenery was – wats were replaced by mosques, the villages looked very different and there was much less dust evident than on the Thai side of the border. The two-carriage train seemed woefully unprepared to cope with the hordes of Malays who wished to squeeze on. For much of the journey, it was standing room only – we were glad we’d got a reserved seat.

The anorak in me was delighted to see the British influence on the railway of this former colony – traditional semaphore signals, old-style level crossing gates and railway signage similar to the UK’s. The linguist in me was delighted to discover that the Malaysian language is very easy to learn, particularly where railway terminology is concerned. ‘Train’ is, rather conveniently, tren. ‘Ticket counter’ is, helpfully, kaunter tiket. And it didn’t take me long to work out what wisel meant either.

We arrived at Butterworth station just a few minutes behind schedule, and proceeded to the adjacent ferry port. Here, we had a short wait for the next crossing to Penang. A pleasant sea breeze made the wait more comfortable, and we were delighted that the return fare cost a piffling 20p each. Butterworth is not an attractive port, but Georgetown more than made up for it. The Britishness, evident even in the town’s name, was deep-rooted. The red pillar boxes, telephone kiosks and even the road markings were very comforting to behold.

Having checked into our hotel (the windowless, airless and insect-strewn room not recommended), we ventured out in search of sustenance. Penang did not disappoint, and we were soon refuelling on a local variant of chicken coconut curry. Very nice too.

Phew. The first issue of CCD’s new supporters’ magazine is officially out in the wild. We’ve been working on it for Quite Some Time, but you can now download a copy for your delight and delectation. And then please (please, please, PLEASE) let us know what you think of it by completing our short online survey.

By the time you read this, we’ll be on the late afternoon train to Butterworth, Malaysia. Our agency is holding an eight-day conference in Port Dickson which starts next week, and we’re maximising the opportunity by tagging on a few days of holiday either side. Pre-conference, we’re having a long weekend in Penang and afterwards we’re visiting Kuala Lumpur and Singapore. We have a meeting with one of CCD’s major donors in the latter before we fly back to Bangkok.

The anorak in me is relishing the prospect of the 23 hour journey down through Surat Thani and Hat Yai to the Malaysian border. It is a (reasonably) comfortable sleeper train, and the food available on state railway services is actually very good. We’re eagerly anticipating a lip-smacking red duck curry and chicken with cashew nuts as dusk falls this evening… it’s the only way to travel. Unless you’ve got several thousand pounds spare (which we haven’t), in which case the Eastern and Oriental Express might just cut the mustard.

After negotiating customs and immigration at the frontier on Saturday morning, the train continues through to Butterworth. Here, we transfer to a ferry for the short nip to Georgetown on Penang island. At this point, I must thank Claire and Andrew for their stroke of gift-giving genius which resulted in me receiving an old (1951) map of Malayan railways for Christmas. As it happens, the network hasn’t changed very much at all since then – so it’ll be quite easy for us (and you, if you’re remotely interested) to chart our progress.

We’ll be having a much-needed break in Georgetown, once the capital of British Malaya. While there, we’ll hopefully be visiting the Swiss-built Penang Hill funicular railway - and maybe savouring a colonial afternoon tea somewhere - before continuing on by train from Butterworth to Kuala Lumpur on Tuesday. We then change on to a local train to the airport, which is now the nearest railhead to Port Dickson. Although there is still a railway line to the port, it’s only used by the occasional freight train, and it may be difficult to hoodwink the authorities into believing that we are oil tanks.

The conference schedule is packed full of meetings and seminars, and we’re looking forward to meeting some new colleagues who have recently arrived in the region. We will be taking our laptop with us, so we’ll blog again when wi-fi availability permits.

Pictured here are Kai (yellow shirt), Yutthana (purple) and Joy.

Kai lives at CCD’s home for independent living, Baan Piam Rak (House of Love) just round the corner from our administrative centre. Yutthana and Joy have been with CCD right from the start, being among the first children that founders Wasan and Chariya were allowed to take out of the government homes. They currently work at CCD’s charity shop, making handmade cards and crafts.

I met with them today to tell them about an exciting project we’re about to be starting. From 8th February, I will be teaching them how to use the internet – how to find information, how to send emails, where to find photos, videos and music, etc. It’s part of a much bigger project, that we’ll share with you about next month – but you’ll be seeing a lot more of these three young people.

None of them have any experience of the web at all, so it’s going to be a steep learning curve for all of us. I’ve trained people how to use the internet before, in my previous job at The Salvation Army. But I’ve not done it in a foreign language. Fortunately, we’ll be getting the course materials translated into Thai, once I’ve adapted them. I’m currently in the process of getting screen grabs from the likes of Google Mail and Facebook. They all look rather different with Thai script, so it is going to be something of a challenge.

 

Having seen the initial reaction of our internet protégés, though, I think it’s going to be a challenge worth embarking on. 25 year-old Yut was delighted that he’d be able to make contact (through email and Skype!) with some of his former CCD housemates. Many of his childhood friends have since been adopted, and are living in the UK or Australia – so it will be really special for him to be able to link up with them again.

Meanwhile, Joy is feeling a little apprehensive and nervous because she has no experience of IT at all. She’s keen to communicate with her mother,  however, who now lives in Japan. Kai, who is currently unemployed, is enthusiastic about learning a new skill to add to his CV and improve his outlook.

I am looking forward to the project enormously too, and am already encouraged that, even in the first few minutes of looking at a few web pages together, the three are already helping each other out. Joy, who has not so much as seen a computer keyboard before, took to moving the mouse around like a duck to water. Kai chipped in, unprompted, to help her find the right letter keys to press. It was quite a special moment.

So please remember these three young people in the coming weeks. It should be fun, exciting and eventful – but also a lot of hard work. We’ll let you know how you can follow their progress a little nearer the time.

While the UK is shivering and receiving generous dollops of snow (we are not inconsiderably envious), Thailand is having its own strange weather. Yesterday, for example, it rained. A lot. And flooded our downstairs again, which is becoming a little tiresome.

You may think that this is quite normal for a country which has a monsoon-driven weather pattern, but it’s not. In fact, our boss at CCD can’t actually remember it ever raining here in January before. Yesterday, the Thai staff were looking goggle-eyed into the sky, scratching their heads and wondering what on earth was happening. It’s that unusual. So it’s even more notable that it is raining – heavily and persistently - again today.

I was interested by this Met Office chart on the BBC website, documenting the global temperature trends over the last couple of weeks:

We can certainly vouch for the fact that Thailand has been warmer than usual, for some considerable time. We’re supposed to be in the middle of ruduu naaw – the cool season – at the moment. While we have had a couple of days during which the temperature has sunk to the high 20s (which have been most pleasant), most days have been oppressively warm. Indeed, some days have been at least as hot as when we arrived in the country back in May and June, the middle of ruduu rorn – the ‘hot’ season. It’s all quite perplexing.

Anyway. The good news is that our boss has successfully managed – after several months of trying - to persuade our landlord to take some interest in our plight (or, more specifically, the state of the house’s roof). We’re expecting a visit from a builder on Saturday, who will no doubt take a sharp intake of breath and pluck some astronomically high figure out of the blue which we shall have to haggle down. Whilst the weather may be behaving oddly at the moment, the behaviour of tradesmen in such scenarios seems to be pretty predictable, at least – regardless of culture!

Happy new year! Or if you prefer, sawat-dee pii mai (literally, ‘hello new year’). We’re looking forward to 2010 in Thailand.

The year is busy already. We’re working flat out on the new CCD supporters’ magazine. It’s called Spectrum, to reflect the range of people involved in CCD – children, families, staff, volunteers, supporters… and the range of different abilities of the children and the opportunities CCD provides for them. We hope to have first proofs finished this week, collate amendments at the start of next week and to go to press by Thursday. If you’d like to be added to the mailing list, email us on development@ccdthailand.org with your full name and address.

Also happening in the Giles household:

• We’re preparing for our mission agency conference in Malaysia which starts on the 19th. We’re travelling there by sleeper train (naturally). It’s a long journey – the main leg down to the island of Penang takes 23 hours, leaving our nearest station just after 3pm on Friday 15th and arriving at 2pm on the Saturday. (Anoraks who wish a copy of the itinerary should feel free to ask Mr Giles to email it – he’s got a beautiful pdf available.) We’ll be visiting Penang, Kuala Lumpur and Singapore en route, flying back from Singapore to Bangkok on Monday 1 February after slotting in a meeting with one of CCD’s donors in Singapore. It would be fair to say that Dave is quite looking forward to all that new track, and that Sarah is equally enthusiastic about the prospect of having two branches of Ikea to check out.
• We saw Avatar in 3D last weekend and loved it. What a great film. We loved that they created a language especially for the film, and we identified with some of Jake’s cross-cultural training!
• We are off to immigration (Nonthaburigration) in the morning to get a re-entry permit (so that our visa isn’t invalidated by our trip to Malaysia).
• One of our new year’s resolutions is to do more exploring of our neighbourhood by bike. It’s a fascinating network of sois – some of them really narrow – and there are a very wide range of types of houses, from very posh western-style estates of detached houses to more traditional Thai wooden houses, some new, others a little more ramshackle, but all interesting.

(The red spot marks our house. Click here for a closer look.)

 We’ll share some photos from our explorations soon.