Happy Mothers' Day!
We all really appreciate the past 19 years of parenting, ladies.
Moving on. Diving was absolutely incredible. The pictures you see are no exaggeration - beautiful fish, clear water and masses of crazy coral.
The first day was spent grappling with the more academic/dull aspects of diving sat in a classroom, although we were given a quick chance to try out our diving equipment in a nearby swimming pool. Our instructor, Fil (that's how he chooses to spell it) was probably at his most patient during this day and as we headed home that evening, we were all agreed - he was a bloody nice bloke. By the end of the course however, he had told us all, we reckon about twelve times each, that we had "the concentration spans of knats" and even raised his fist at one unresponsive member of the group. Said member, whilst trying valiantly to pay attention, was helplessly mesmorised by the effects the moving water was having on his (blond) leg hair.
Out in the deep we did two fun dives during which we simply drifted around looking at what interested us. We also did two skills dives during which we practiced the various techniques we'd learnt and James was given the opportunity to thoroughly overuse the purge button on his regulator. Mr. Blowey, as we've just decided to brand him literally two seconds ago, was most commonly found skimming the surface trying desperately to sink (eventually he learnt that swimming upwards wasn't doing him any favours).
Fil's apparent disliking for the three of us, we have decided, can be partially attributed to the fact that we had an uncanny ability to ask him questions that made him feel rather awkward;
"So Fil, have you ever seen a Napoleon Rass?"
"What do you mean?"
"Erm, have you ever been diving and seen one?"
"... Maori and Napoleon Rass can be found at the great barrier reef or in the Red Sea"
"So have you seen one?"
"The boat's here"
Given as the boat was a good 50 metres away, the silence that followed was excruciating. Why a certain member of the group thought that asking "can I go in the suit?" would help the situation we'll never know.
We feel we should include a brief reference to ladyboys. They're hot. We're saving up for councelling in Cairns. What happens on tour...
Bangkok was alot of fun and, to our surprise, seemed extremely westernised. We stayed at "Big John's Guesthouse" in Thonglor, and within seconds of our arrival he made it clear that "Big" actually meant "obese" and "John" (funnily enough) meant, "twat". If that's too cryptic for you - we thought he was a fat cockmuncher.
Our wrath didn't stop at John by the way. During our first evening there, as we casually sipped our beers in the living area, we overheard a large american man telling a young Thai employee that she was a "hypocrite sinner" whose only hope was to turn to christ. Shortly after engaging with the man (civilly) we were quickly informed that we too were "filthy, rotten sinners" and that our damnation had been planned by god before the very conception of the universe. Whether he was right or not, we took a small satisfaction out of the fact that he had no business in the shirt he was wearing. Using "The Da Vinci Code" and a GCSE study of Luke's gospel as our source of ammunition, we set about dismantling this poor man's argument/way of life. We were actually doing surprisingly well, but at some undefined point, the vast amounts of alcohol we had consumed seemed to take effect and the debate may or may not have ended with one member of the group chanting, "all religion is just a structure for the weak". By the way, in Bangkok we spent our time shopping and partying.
We're now at a lovely hostel in Singapore and have just returned from a day trip at the zoo. It's past 2am now though, and I think we're going to turn in.
Hope all's well in Bristol.
The boys.
