For some reason, Japanese people always seem to travel with more luggage than anyone else. Check-in for a flight going anywhere near Japan means spending hours staring at a distant desk from behind a wall of gigantic suitcases which inch towards the check-in counter like vast black glaciers. Their owners, dwarfed by their monstrous luggage, urge the vast things forward like sluggish elephants, then abandon them to the baggage handlers with a sigh of relief and scamper briskly off towards the gate towing their carry-ons, modest little wheelie bags scarcely as big as an average mobile home.
Thailand 2005 Archives
Lao Kao
“So, who makes rice whisky in your village?”
, E. asked. G. looked at her as if she didn't understand.
“Everyone.”
, she said, in a tone that suggested that only a farang or a child could possibly have asked such a question.
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Good to know
Notice seen in the back of a Chiang Mai sawngthaew:
The driver of this bus has been trained.
You will be serviced in a standard manner and with safety.
Down with the Mahdi Army
The clouds that perch on the peaks around Mae Hong Son appear to have rolled down into town, and it is raining, not heavily but unremittingly. Mae Hong Son has a sleepy, out-of-season air and feels barely one step up from the proverbial one-water-buffalo-town. I speculate that the major local amusement may be going down to the center of town and watching the traffic light change.
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