Decadence

Kampot Seahorse

June 2024 marks:

• 2 years in Kampot
• 18 years in SEA

The last two years have been chilled af - effortless - living the dream. Contrast that to 2009 where I was slogging it out in a Trang government school, full time, for $780/month. Mostly hungover. However, I thoroughly enjoyed the time there and even saved enough of the pitiful salary to buy a Honda Phantom which ended up taking me to many Thai nooks and crannies few foreigners get to see.

Irish Tom

Anyhow, I also remember Irish Tom and Aussie Russ being free of any such obligations. Lucky bastards. I can't lie that I didn't experience spikes of envy. Why do they get to chill all day while I do battle with dipshit students and even dipshittier administrators?

Aussie Russ

Rather than allowing those negative emotions to metastasize into resentment and animus, I took that energy and inverted it. They became goals to drive towards (positive) rather than objects to be jealous of (negative). I too shall own my time ...... one day. I was 35 then and made it 13 years later at 48 but not without a few beatings along the way.

I'm 50 now and often think of them as I sip mango shakes in the tropical afternoon heat. I reckon they were both in their 50s back then. They're no longer with us, sadly, as the drink took 'em early. Russ in 2016 and Tom in 2017. I quit piss in 2018. Coincidence? Doubt it. Wish they were still around.

Bank

Pool - 4th out of 157

Sat with London Chris one afternoon moaning about how I couldn't login to my UK bank. I rang the UK (always a chore - "press 1 for this, 2 for that, 3 to blow your brains out") only for a fat Sandra to confirm (in a delightful west midlands cadence) that the card had been sent two months ago.

"Just go to the Post Office to see if it's there." Chris prompted in Estuary English, offering hope.
"Nah, nee point as they'da rung." I replied in Pitmatic, sticking to protocol.
"Go on ya fanny - you never know."

So off I pop and to my utter amazement there it is, a radiant beacon of hope in an otherwise gloomy warehouse. Is this how Indiana Jones felt?

"How long's it been here?" I ask the lass (whom I'm rather quite fond of) in woeful Khmer.
"No sure, maybe two week." Eye roll at my feeble linguistics.
"How come you didn't ring? The number's in the address, as instructed."
"Change SIM, solly."
"No problem. Thanks love." Proper Casanova me like.

Movie Premiere

Change SIM = Can't call? Eh? Her nonsensical answer reminded me of Tony's Law: Never ask How/Why questions here. The joys of cultural differences.

Anyhow, armed with the card I installed the bank app (via VPN) and was pleased to see that my National Insurance direct debits had resumed. Worth about £950/month if the UK doesn't collapse and I make it to 67. Not bad.

Two precarious 'ifs' though - the UK is on thin fiscal ice and my ancestral longevity stats make for bleak reading. Wor Bobby tapped out at just 46, Mam at 58 and Dad at 69. Compounded by three decades on the tabs - oops. So, there's a fair chance these payments will be squandered on wars and gimmergrants while providing a zero to negligible return. Exacerbating this is the fact that I'm the wrong race, gender and sexuality and therefore the prime demographic to be thrown under the equality bus. So is it worth the risk? Who knows? It's certainly dodgy. Maybe.

Either way the plebs will get higher nominal values but lower real values going forward as the elites government continues to weaponize taxation and inflation against their slaves citizens - it's just math.

Transport

Belgian Mark

Had somewhat of a minimalism failure recently. I've taken great pride in refusing mod-cons (such as AirCon and TVs) over the years. The reasons are three-fold, one, I never wanted to become accustomed to comfort (luxury is weakness). Two, I was able to reallocate the saved capital into scarce desirable assets (enabling ER2@48). And three, I liked the idea of doing my tiny bit for the environment (virtue signaling wanker).

So what went wrong? Well, after almost 5 years on Mary Poppins bicycles I capitulated and shat $200 on a Honda Shitbox. From a well-dressed, charming young English Teacher from the grand ole US of A, no less.

"Hope this shit heap doesn't fall to pieces the moment you disappear." Weak joke.
"I've had it a year buddy. Few issues. I'm sure it'll be fine." More hope than confidence as we scrutinised a copper-wire bodge-job holding the cracked fairing together. Inevitably, a few hours later, as he was boarding his flight to Vermont, calamity struck.

Shitbox

Was pottering along quite happily, not much faster than the Mary, when I decided to see what she's got and gave it the full throttle treatment. Enjoyed the thrill as the 14 year old engine screamed a positive value for the second derivative of position wrt time. However, thrill rapidly morphed into terror as the throttle stuck. Suicidal speeds in the local back alleys, a plume of dust as dogs scattered and roosters flapped. Fuuuuuck, don't panic, think ..... brakes ..... smoke .... fuck ..... key .... off ..... that's it ..... and we silently rolled to a halt. Heart rate returning to normal. Phew.

I love the smell of burning brake pads in the morning.

The bike - I've had it 5 minutes and it's totally fecked - what to do? A quick chin rub, a look at the sky, a resigned sigh and I push her 2km in stifling midday heat to get the throttle mechanism repaired. Down $15 already and I'd only ridden her a hundred yards.

Day two was new brakes, oil, mirrors and lights for a further $25. All good. Running like a champ. The problem is though, I haven't been on Mary since buying Shitbox. I can feel myself getting fatter by the minute as I used to cycle a minimum of 8km just going about a normal day. Fat lazy bastard.

Kitchen

Shat $8 on a stove. Why? Well, Phuket Tony was down from Phnom Penh extolling the benefits of cooking. Bigger platefuls of healthier/cheaper scran, what's not to like? He told me I simply had to get one and he wasn't leaving until I did. So it was with the trepidation of a press-ganged hostage that I stumped up the loy. He was kind enough to donate some old kitchenware to get me started on a culinary youtube apprenticeship.

Stir Fry

However, the problem with cooking is that one needs ingredients. And ingredients have a habit of spoiling unless they're kept cold. But keeping things cold requires energy (Q = mcΔT) and given that ΔT is greater in the tropics than in Europe, more ΔT means more Q which means more kWh which means more economic energy. You gain economic energy by providing value to humanity, usually by selling your time and/or skill. You lose economic energy when satiating your desires or otherwise enjoying the fruits of human ingenuity. What am I on about? Oh yeah, cooking.

So, $45 was spaffed on a fridge. But this, specifically, was a hard blow as I'd built my identity on being fridge-less. People would look on in awe (or pity) as I proudly proclaimed the virtues of a fridge-free life. Not anymore though. I'm now a fridged-up pussy like everyone else. Wrestling with words like decadence, indulgence and opulence as I sip chilled water in me hammock. Was a good run though - a bit like that Japanese soldier who held out after WW2 had ended.

People

Inspirational Bryan

Mixed bag lately. Belgian Mark hung out with a yet-to-be-famous Madonna back in his DJ days. She was smoking hot in the 80s - no question - we had a massive poster of her in the bedroom I shared with 4 brothers. 5 virgins waiting to be touched for the very first time.

The Ukraine war wasn't adventurous enough for Bryan so he paddled 750km from Kampot to Pattaya in 30 days. Averaging 25km/day in his inflatable kayak. Repairing crab-induced punctures while camping on remote beaches at night. Gotta keep those adrenalin levels up. Mad lad. What's next on this 62 year old's bingo card? Everest?

Best pool table in town

I like to visit Phil's mansion on Shore Island occasionally. A larger-than-life character boasting (arguably) one of the best pool tables in town. A proper Yorkshire lad: a laak what a sae n a sae what a bloody well laak. Anyhow, his mate Andy was in town inviting folk to a film premiere. Questions flooded the mind:

You're in a movie? Me? A premiere? Eh?

So, in me Sunday best, I joined 50 other film critics in Kampot's Leicester Square to watch The Banksy Job where Andy gathers a team of art rogues to steal a statue. Enjoyed it and glad I went but the whole thing felt a bit surreal, the movie, the audience, the venue, the heat. I had the thought I often had on submarines .... how tf did I get here?

Health

100kg

Still at it. Was chuffed to deadlift 100kg for the first time. 5 sets of 5. Arms feel like they're being ripped out of the shoulder sockets - heavy af - four sacks of spuds. There's simply no way I could've managed it two years ago so it's good to appreciate small bits of progress made in life.

Gym bros

What else? Nowt really. Trying to improve my Khmer. I still love sitting at the lotus pond - but now with a bluetooth speaker belting out inanities like: "What colour is her car?" I'm at that point where confidence dips because you feel you're not making much progress - where locals jabber away at incomprehensible velocity and I keep forgetting words - but in reality I'm doing fine. It was like this when learning Thai too.

A journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step - LaoZi, Dao De Jing