Abrams Family World Travel

Vancouver: The Tasty Location

WHAT makes a location perfect? Sunshine? Beach? Beautiful views? Happy people? Safety? Opportunity? Low cost of living? Community? Clean air?

I know every person has their own preference. But I also know by the big grin on my wife's face whenever she comes home from the store after purchasing groceries that the wide availability of healthy and organic goods is near the top of her list. Actually, put it at THE top.

I have seen her positively brimming with delight at the discovery of an abundant health food store or a restaurant that tickles her fancy or a massive fresh food market.

In some countries we've been to, like India, Ecuador, Brazil and some parts of Europe, it was either hard or too expensive for us to source the type of foods we like for a balanced diet.

But Vancouver is undisputedly fantastic for the range of organic, gluten-free, vegan, vegetarian and fresh food. So much so that Vancouver is now Jamie's No. 1 destination to live. Here you can also find community gardens everywhere, some more imaginative than others (see photo above). 

Here there are organic stores in abundance. There's a Wholefoods not far from where we are based, but just in our local high street there are two excellent alternatives with everything you could wish for and more.

It's a great plus, because we can eat healthily all the time, but Jamie's like a child in a toy store every time she tops up our groceries.

As you probably know, Jamie is a real foodie loves to play and experiment. Admittedly, her nosh is delicious. 

While I love to gobble up her treats, I know we're on a tight budget, too, and have to be prudent with our expenses.

For that reason (and having one fussy young eater) we don't eat out too often, but, invariably, whenever we do I always walk away thinking (or should I say knowing?) that Jamie's grub is far more delicious. 

 

World Travel: Surviving Motion Sickness

I'M not the worst in our family for motion sickness. I recall years ago, when on holiday in Mauritius on a deep-sea fishing trip (my pre-vegan days), being sick the entire time (about six hours). And as a kid, when we used to take family trips through Europe, I'd often have my head hanging out of the window of my dad's Renault 16 (especially on winding roads) or whatever model he had at the time.

But Zenchai's in a different league. He'll get sick if we go over a speed bump! No, I'm exagerating the point, but the little guy is terribly sensitive to motion sickness. He's okay on city buses, trains, quad bikes and Indian/Thai tuk-tuks, but fast taxis, bumpy aeroplane rides, rough ferry crossings and long-distance coaches in particular have his little guts stewing.

What prompted this blog was our trip down from Auckland to beautiful Napier by coach on New Year's Day. I thought it was a relatively smooth one, but not Zenchai. 

About two hours into the journey, after he'd chowed down a few peanut butter sandwiches (not the Stig sandwiches he's pictured with above) for breakfast, he started to feel ill. 

I noticed the signs - the frequent yawning. But we didn't react fast enough. Zenchai complained he wasn't feeling well. Jamie, sat in front of us with Kobra, started searching for a bag and then handed it to me. I tried getting it open. But it was too late. As I fumbled trying to find the bag opening, Zenchai projectile vommited all over himself and me. Yuck!

Then something amazing happened. An Australian passenger travelling alone (a man and father of two teenage boys) quickly dashed to the rescue and offered his help!

Armed with a bag of baby wipes, I accepted his assistance (of course) and handed them to him. Between us, we managed to mop up most of the sick. 

We've been through this scenario before, especially when in Ecuador, where the roads are winding and the drivers handle them like maniacs.

So armed with some experience, here are our tips for surviving motion sickness with children.

1. Don't read.

2. Get fresh air (if possible).

3. Watch the road and get a seat near the front if on a coach or bus.

4. Get your child to sleep if he or she can.

5. Travel on an empty stomach (which is contrary to a lot of advice, but just my experience). If you must eat, try potato chips (we don't usually eat them, but they apparently work for those with sensitive guts and we tried it recently on Zenchai - with success)

6. Carry extra clothing.

7. Make sure you have sick bags.

8. Take baby wipes or something to clean up a mess with.

After Zenchai had emptied the contents of his belly, he was pretty much okay. He at least survived the remaining three hours on the road, though Kobra had her turn and spat up all over Jamie, who isn't a great coach traveller either.

But don't let all of this put you off embarking on long travels with your children. After all, if we can survive then surely anyone can. 

 

World Travel: Wherever We Lay Our Hats...

HERE'S a question we get a lot (and for obvious reasons): "So, where's home?"

We've been travelling so long that we don't really know. Often we say, "wherever we are". And that's the truth. Home is where we (as a family) are. We don't own a house and Kobra, for instance, hasn't lived anywhere for more than six months. 

This year, travelling mostly through Asia before getting to Australia and then New Zealand, we have had to relocate 35 times!

We've stayed in hostels, houses, concrete apartment complexes without views, boats, tents, campervans, resorts, hotels, homestays and with family, strangers and friends. 

It's been an interesting year, starting in India, finishing in New Zealand, taking in Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore, Indonesia and Australia in between. We have met many amazing people, forged some strong friendships, faced many challenges and learned some incredible lessons.

So we thought we'd make the rest of this blog somewhat visual, showing the places we have stayed, and thanking you all for following and sharing in our journey. 

First port of call, Varkala Beach in India

Preparing for sun and beach on our balcony

  In search of a better deal, we find a new apartment

  And then, for a great price, a resort with a pool

  An excellent hostel in Alleppey, recommended by Lonely Planet

Followed by a night on the backwaters

  In Fort Cochin, the night Liverpool win the Carling Cup

Stopping over in Kuala Lumpur for a few nights

From one hotel to another - in Chiang Mai, Thailand

The Greenhill apartments in Chiangers - and lobby transport

Penang beach living in Batu Ferringgi, but it doesn't work out for us there

We head by coach to Kuala Lumpur for a spot of apartment-sitting in Bangsar

Renting nine floors up in Chan So Lin, Kuala Lumpur

In Subang Jaya to take care of cats

House sharing off the beaten track as we return to Chiang Mai

Birthday celebrations in a seventh-floor Chiang Mai apartment

A weekend in Singapore, where we got ripped off buying durian

A stopover in scorching Phuket on our way to Bali


 

A couple of nights by a main road and with noisy neighbours in Ubud

Renting a two-story home in Ubud for £10 a day

House-sitting and caring for a dog, rabbits and a chicken in the stunning Blue Mountains outside Sydney

 A townhouse in the Sydney suburbs

 Campervanning our way to Melbourne from Sydney

Magical sunset in Bonbeach, a stone's throw from where we stayed

  Camping by the beach in Mornington, near Melbourne 

Pretty cool, family-friendly hostel in Parnell, Auckland

  A family home in Auckland, caring for a dog and two cats

 

Melbourne: More Random Acts Of Kindness

WE must be doing something right to attract good energy. I mean, to be pitched (literally) by the beach in Australia, living outdoors in the fresh air and have all our camping equipment provided for free by friends!

Throughout our journey around the world we have been the recipients of random acts of kindness. It doesn't matter how small or large, it always blows me away, reminds me there are lovely people in the world and makes me want to reciprocate.

I was chatting one morning after training with the coach at Crossfit Mornington Peninsula (who is from Watford, close to where we used to live in England). She asked what I was up to for the weekend and I explained we were heading back into town (Melbourne), by public transport.

Without batting an eyelid, she and her husband asked if we'd like to borrow their car, not just for the weekend, but for the remainder of our stay in Rosebud!

Of course, I was stunned by the offer and gratefully accepted. And they also found a car seat for Kobra (from another member of the gym) and hooked that in for us as well! Lovely people.

Consequently, our world opened up enormously. Places to visit that were out of reach (for kids and by bicycle) were suddenly on the agenda. 

Then on another day, as I was washing dishes (as usual) by the tap near our tent, a neighbour approached, carrying a can of fuel.

I knew he was leaving any day, so assumed he was coming to say 'goodbye'. But instead he offered us the fuel from his container.

He said he wasn't allowed to take it on the ferry to Tasmania and would have to throw it. But he opted to give it to us instead. Nice man. 

As if that were not enough, another camping resident (and a Bobby on the beat) we became friendly with, offered to help us move back to Melbourne. He said he'd collect all our stuff in his trailer (if we wanted). He checked his work schedule on his iphone and said he was free. "Give me a call," he said. "I'll bring my son and he can play with yours before we go."

Turns out that our plans changed and we told him "thanks, but we're leaving a few days later". He still checked his schedule and said he'd try to come. 

Then our Crossfit coach, who allowed us to borrow her car, offered, without prompting, to drive us back into Melbourne. "No problem," she said. And she did, even sacrificing a massage appointment in the process. 

The generosity didn't end there either. The day we finished camping, Nikki and Tony, our good friends who allowed us to borrow all their equipment, came to help us take it all down. Then they said I could use their car to ferry Jamie and the kids to our airport hotel, probably saving us about $150 in taxi fees.

To cap it all, I received an email from No Worries Curries, a Melbourne company run by a charming husband and wife originally from Goa, who make truly fabulous spice packs. I'd posted some comments on her Facebook page - genuine comments - and she wrote back to me, offering some freebies. 

So when people ask me if I ever regret leaving behind England and a stable job, I always say no for two reasons: 1. the fantastic people we have met along our journey and 2. the great experiences we have had. Some things money cannot buy. 

 

Melbourne: Happy Campers?

NEITHER Jamie nor I are exactly what you'd call natural or hardened campers. We did a short  stint in Costa Rica several years ago. About a year ago I camped alone while Living On Light in Brazil and Jamie and Zenchai did some camping up in Yorkshire one time.

As a teenager, I also went on family camping holidays down in the south of France and Jamie did the same in the US with her family when growing up, but that's the extent of our experience.

We thought camping on the Mornington Peninsula, not far from Melbourne, would make not just a change to our norm (whatever that is, considering we've been going nearly three years), but also present us with some fresh family experiences and challenges and a greater appreciation of what we have and do not have. There's also the fact that the cost of camping (during off-peak season) is far less than renting an apartment or staying in a hotel (Australia is not cheap).

However, when our good friends (who generously provided all the camping equipment) dropped us off at the camping grounds and helped erect the tent, Jamie had the sort of look on her face that was equal to being left stranded in the Black Hole of Calcutta.

Of course, Rosebud, where we are, is nothing like India - not even close. But I think Jamie was trying to get her bearings and wondering in those early moments how that was going to be accomplished with bits and pieces all around her (she likes things neat and organised) and the night sky closing in.

But, with time, we've grown into our tent home. It's safe here (relatively, even though a truck stopped one morning and pinched our dish soap) and our kids can roam around and play without us having to check in every minute. And our fellow campers are, so far, very friendly and helpful. 

We are in bed early and rise early, too. With us all sleeping together and darkness and a night chill setting in around 8pm, there's no other way. We're getting used to sound of the nearby road traffic and the birds that live around us. Zenchai helps Kobra with her afternoon nap by walking her around in a pushchair we (also) borrowed.

We're getting plenty of sleep, fresh air, sunshine and quality family time (although Jamie and I seldom get a break together from the kids for too long, which is a drawback to this style of travel). 

Nonetheless, it's healthy to spend most of our days outdoors and until we borrowed some bikes about a week into our stay, we were legging it everywhere, which, for me, meant a one-hour trek to my Crossfit Mornington Peninsula classes and back each morning. Now, by bike, it takes only 20 minutes, which serves as a useful warm-up and warm-down. Jamie does the afternoon classes.

Zenchai is pedalling around all the time on a bike a little too small for him, but it more than does the job. His lanky legs go up and down like pistons. And he's loving it now that he has learned how to skid. He plays with whatever children he can find and is experiencing a greater sense of freedom, while Kobra just wonders and explores her surroundings as well as chipping in with some dish-washing and trying on everyone's shoes!

Only the other day we went for our first ever bike ride all together. Kobra was so excited to be in her seat behind her mother. There are trails all along the shoreline.

Melbourne weather, however, is unpredictable at the best of times and the change from warm to cold during the first week (it is still spring, after all) had us in out of different clothing all day. As one camper told us, "don't complain about the Melbourne weather, just wait 10 minutes."

On rainy days (we've had periods of drizzle, but nothing more) we were confined to the tent, but since erecting a fantastic gazebo over our kitchen area (Jamie and I failed miserably in trying to put up a more complicated one first of all), life has really perked up. We no longer have to worry about looming black clouds while Jamie or I is cooking or preparing food. We have a fridge, electric cooker, rice cooker and blender.

We found a local library and now have access to dozens of books for the kids. It's also where we get (free) internet access. 

Across the road from us is a well-stocked supermarket, too, so it's not the sort of camping experience Bear Grylls would probably get a kick out of. Less than 100m from us is a beach with shallow (albeit cold) water. 

The water in the showers, however, is piping hot, which is spectacularly luxurious on cool days, though camping is never short of testing moments, like when in the middle of the night you need the toilet and it's cold and pitch black, as well as keeping the bedding and eating area clean when you have young children, particularly one so obsessed in manufacturing dust.

We are restricted also in getting around this region. While there is plenty to do like fruit-picking and visiting the leisure centre, getting there on bikes isn't so straightforward (with young kids) even if there are cycle lanes everywhere. The bus service isn't as dependable or widespread as in the city.

But, slowly, we are finding our way - around the area and in the art of camping!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Melbourne: Caring For The Classics

CLASSICAL music didn't appeal to me in any way until, say, about 10 years ago. As a child, I remember my parents listening to it all the time. I suppose I reacted against it.

Maybe missing the European Cup final (as it was then known in 1976) between Bayern Munich and St. Etienne (I was a football nut) - to be dragged off instead to a classical music concert at the Albert Hall - cemented my decision to tune out Bach, Strauss and their contemporaries. 

But nowadays, for whatever reason, I find it relaxing and calming. When driving, which can be stressful, I'd much rather listen to classical than anything else.

Consciously, I haven't tried pushing my musical choices on to my children. Zenchai just happens to have a varied taste. For instance, he likes Bob Marley, Cat Stevens, Krishna Das, Norah Jones, Nirvana, but also classical music.

One morning, while chatting over breakfast here in Melbourne, Zenchai was listening to Classic FM (because it reminds him of his grandparents' home in England). 

And his ears pricked up when he heard of a 24-hour concert in Melbourne billed as Care Aware. The idea of a 24-hour concert seemed to confound him. The DJ then said to listeners to pick up something (weighing about the same as a violin) and to hold it in a violinist's position for around three minutes. Zenchai gave it a try, but couldn't do it.

I explained to him that in the concert the musicians would probably have to hold on to their instruments for the best part of a full day. He was intrigued.

The next step was to get tickets, as I knew he was interested. They were free, too. But as the concert by the 200-strong Impossible Orchestra was to raise awareness and money for the millions of carers in Australia who go unpaid, we made an online donation and booked our seats.

Seats could be booked for three-hour portions only, which was long enough for a six-year-old. The concert started at 5pm on a Saturday and finished at that time the following day. Zenchai and I went for the climax.

Zenchai particularly enjoyed getting dressed up and feeling more grown up, borrowing some clothes from a friend (thanks, Kyle). 

The gig took place in Melbourne city at Hamer Hall. We took the train in from Bonbeach and found the venue easily enough - about one minute walk from Flinders Street station. Collecting tickets was simple. The seats were comfy. We then listened and watched. One listener described it as an "educational eargasm".

I was surprised by how much Zenchai got into it, applauding after the various pieces were played and asking about the different instruments, the cameramen, lighting etc. I answered what I could. 

During one interval we went outside and wondered around the Sunday Market. At a stall (noworriescurries.com) selling Indian spices, Zenchai and I chatted with the owners. They were so taken with Zenchai that the lady kindly gave us some extras. 

We went back in for the conclusion of the concert. I didn't pressure Zenchai to stay until the end, but he chose to remain. It gave me an opportunity on the train on the way home to talk with him about carers and what they do and how selfless they are. How this affects him I don't know. 

But the outing, I know for sure, was a big success. 

Ubud: Driving Rules? There Are No Rules

MY heading is a bit misleading, but there are certain things you need to know before taking to the roads here. Of course, there are rules. It's not complete chaos - like driving in India or Cairo. But at times it feels like it. Actually, most of the time.

It doesn't help most of the roads are so narrow and full of holes and that there are scores of motorbikes, most of which overtake without hesitation on the inside and out. Near-misses are a daily occurrence. Jamie refuses to drive here.

At least the Balinese mostly wear helmets (which isn't the case in Chiang Mai, for instance). But you see three or four people to a bike and sometimes a parent carrying a small child who is fast asleep!

There is plenty of pollution because traffic in the centre can build up. We keep the windows up and AC on when we get into town - even though we dislike using AC. 

But driving in this charming town is made a little harder because our cheap car rental doesn't have much oomph. Just the other day it conked out going up a steep hill. I had to yank up the handbrake and start it up again with a long line of impatient traffic behind me. Even in first gear and with plenty of gas, it choked its way up.

Much of the time our Suzuki feels like a tank. It's not quite swift enough to dodge the barking mutts out in the street, some of whom just laze in the road and don't even move as you approach, which doesn't help when you need to swerve around it and a vehicle is approaching from the opposite direction. Then there are all the chickens, roosters, the pedestrians, children, people carrying large loads…you really need to have your wits about you.

If you get out of town, you might encounter cattle and pigs along the road, too. We've found the signposting in some more remote areas out of town almost non-existent. It's really a case of knowing your geography, having a map and asking directions. But I've been advised to always get a second opinion. Balinese are polite people, so will give you any direction rather than say they don't know.

At major junctions it is not clear who has the right of way. I really couldn't figure it out. In the end, I just forced my way out. Then I read an article from a local trying to make sense of it. She said it's about eye contact! That didn't help me, seeing most cars have tinted windows and motorcyclists helmets. Big trucks and buses usually won't take their turn, so beware!

If a car flashes you in England, it usually means the car is letting you pass. But here it signals the opposite. I got caught out a few times and it's hairy.

And if a car puts on its hazard lights at a junction it usually means the vehicle is going straight and not that it has a problem. 

Parking can be a hassle as well. With the roads being so narrow, you need to find either an official parking spot or stop to the side, leaving enough space for passing traffic. 

Be careful not to go too far to the side on the small side streets, because they all have deep gutters (used for burning litter). Once you're in there, you're not coming out - without the help of a tow truck. I've seen a few motorbikes being fished out.

And in the centre of town, where it's really busy, parking is harder. In some areas if you find a spot (not too difficult early in the day), the chances are you will be charged, though the fee is minimal. Don't bother trying to argue because there are no signs saying you must pay to park. 

However, I did complain when parking at the Monkey Forest for that very reason. Someone just turned up as we left and demanded payment. I told him he needed to inform me in advance and not when I had finished. 

But that's how things work around here. If they can extract another 1,000 rupees from you they will. 

When all is said and done, having a car (even our slow one, pictured above) is better than not having one - unless you are located centrally.

The alternative is taking taxis and, as visitors, we've been overcharged several times. Bargain hard with them. Everyone here seems to be a taxi driver. 

Although I prefer to walk when I can, it isn't always an easy option, particularly in heat and with young children. In places there are no pavements and where there are, often they are horribly uneven. 

Zenchai, for one, prefers getting around by car, but that's because he didn't enjoy the street dogs all barking at him.

The Balinese people aren't so aggressive, though. In fact, they are on the whole very friendly. And even on the roads, it's more a case of volume of traffic and disorder and worn road surfaces than terrible driving which makes getting around feel so perilous. However, my wife isn't convinced about how capable the Balinese are of controlling their vehicles. 

Asia: Close Encounters Of The Animal Kind

I STILL wrestle with my decision whenever I visit zoos. So often the animals look so sad, isolated in cages, appearing painfully thin or bored.

Even under these circumstances, I still wonder whether life for them is better in captivity, where they are (usually) well fed and kept safe, or in their natural habitat, where many species are continually under threat, ironically from us, humans.

However, zoos and wildlife parks offer us the opportunity to see wild animals up close. And in Chiang Mai the zoo is better than most I have experienced. Many of the animals roam freely or in large spaces. 

They have in Chiang Mai a zoo and a popular attraction called the Night Safari (although it is open during the day also).

And our kids have been fortunate to have experienced some intimate, close encounters with animals they would never have seen other than on television or computers or in books and magazines.

Zenchai and Kobra loved feeding giraffes in Chiang Mai, where you can buy food for the animals and hand it to them. 

These tremendously tall creatures with incredibly long tongues literally took food from my young daughter's hands and kept coming back for more. 

The same happened with elephants, those awesome, big animals, though I couldn't help but feel sorry for them having to wear such clumsy, large chains around their ankles.

We saw elephants up close in India, too, where they are 'used' in so many of the street parades.

In Ubud, Bali, our animal experience got even better at the Monkey Forest. Here although the monkeys live wildly in the trees, they are at ease with humans, probably because they are fed by them every day.

They still have to be approached with caution, as do most wild animals, but essentially they are only after your food. And if you treat them with respect (and don't stroke their heads), all should be okay. One or two people did complain of being bitten, though we saw tourists throwing them sweets and other food items clearly not suited for monkeys.

On our first visit we took with us one banana (though they can be purchased at the forest entrances) and almost before Zenchai could take it out of our bag a monkey swooped and grabbed it off him.

I had a unique moment with one infant monkey, though. I just held out my arm high to the side with a piece of food in my palm and the fearless monkey climbed up me and, resting on my hands, happily ate away. At one point the monkey even looked me in the eye and pinched my nose, more out of curiosity than anything else. His padded hands were so soft. 

I think at this point Zenchai could see he had little to fear, especially from the small ones, and he endeavoured to feed them, first picking up pieces of sweet potato that had been chopped and left for them by the forest attendants and then old coconuts.

He had more success with the latter, picking up a shell that had been left aside and then offering it to a larger monkey, who extended his hand and took it for consumption.

This was a real, live and priceless educational experience for my kids - one they could see, smell and feel. 

It wasn't just about being around monkeys and feeding them, but understanding how they live, feed and survive and also how we humans treat and value them. 

Zenchai, as ever, asked many questions, but also liked the monkeys so much that he said he wanted one for himself, which opened up the discussion as to why wild animals are called wild and should remain precisely that. 

Asia: Five Days, Four Cities, Three Flights, Two Children, An Overpriced Durian and No Almond Butter!

WE were all relieved to get back to our apartment in Chiang Mai after four days away and time spent in Kuala Lumpur, Singapore and Bangkok.

Zenchai was going stir crazy on the aeroplane back to Thailand. We had a five-hour layover in Bangkok after our Air Asia flight had been cancelled. Tired, hungry and cooped up, Zenchai gave us a testing experience. Kobra slept most of the way. Aeroplanes just aren't designed for young children.

We stopped in Kuala Lumpur the first night as we couldn't get a connecting flight that day on to Singapore.

KL airport is a long way from the city centre. But we elected to use the train instead of taxi or bus or coach (as we'd done in the past). It's far cheaper, more efficient and comfortable. The trains are fast and slick, like in Germany. It made travelling a far more pleasant experience.

Kobra attracted a lot of attention from travellers, many of whom had their picture taken with her like she was some kind of celebrity. It bordered on the ridiculous. 

Zenchai looked on, unamused. He doesn't like the attention he gets in Asia - all the touching without first asking drives him crazy, often quite literally. He is also protective of his little sister.

Anyhow, by the time we arrived in KL city centre, checked-in to our hotel and dropped off our luggage, it was time to head out again. We had a family appointment - a play date for Zenchai with his second cousin at a playcentre in Bangsar Village shopping mall. He had been looking forward to it for ages. Z and his cousin ran around for hours. Money well spent. Zenchai also received a belated birthday gift - a Monster Truck book, which he loved. Afterwards we went for a Banana Leaf dinner after which it was time to head back to the hotel (by train) and then get up in the morning for our mid-day flight to Singapore.

Getting to KL airport was quicker than heading into the city when we arrived. On the train we met a nice English/French-Moroccan family with a young boy. Zenchai wasn't too sociable at first, but later warmed up a bit. 

At KL airport we checked in, grabbed a bite to eat at our favourite veggie Indian restaurant and then waited for our plane to depart. Zenchai amused himself by driving around luggage trollies.

I had been to Singapore before, but it was the first time for Jamie and the kids. As we were about to land, the captain made an interesting announcement, warning against bringing into the country knuckle-dusters, swords, guns and numb chucks! What sort of people go to Singapore, I wondered?

Then, of course, he reminded everyone about the stiff penalty for drug-smuggling - mandatory death sentence. They may as well have added raw almond butter to the list (more on that later).

I had an exam to sit in Singapore, but squeezing in any last-minute revision wasn't easy with a family in tow. Hours after arriving and nursing a deltoid injury, I headed to Reebok Crossfit Enduro for a workout. Some 90 power cleans later my shoulders somehow felt better. Jamie and the kids amused themselves at a park nearby and then in the gym while they waited. Zenchai got creative with all the equipment.

All hungry, we went in search of food. We didn't find eating in Singapore very easy. It's all Chinese, mostly fried, high on meat and starchy carbs and laced with msg. We settled for some veggie soup. Zenchai had a juice and some rice. Then it was off to bed - late - after a long walk in the still-ultra humid conditions.

The next morning I had to wake up Zenchai from a deep sleep. He had a training appointment at 9am at Crossfit. We caught a train and walked the rest of the way. He did some running around and lifting. On the way home, he felt proud - and didn't stop talking about it.

We were all hungry by the time we met up with Jamie and Kobra. But then we made our worst purchase of the weekend. Seeking out durian, I bought a 2kgs one, noticing a sign that said $10 per kilo. I asked "how much?" and the reply came "$14". But it turned out to be "$40" and not "14". By then I had already eaten it. That's a whopping £20 for a durian!! 

To make matters worse, Jamie didn't even like it. 

If it took Jamie and I hours to get over the shock, at least the kids weren't fussed. We decided to seek out a play centre. The hotel gave us directions - by train, bus and then on foot.

We found it - eventually. First, though, we stopped at an upscale restaurant called The Living Cafe that was right up Jamie's street - lots of delicious raw food desserts, but at near-jaw-dropping prices.

We each had a slice and then headed off into the heat on foot with only approximate directions. Of course, half a mile down the road Zenchai decided he needed the toilet (No. 2) and there was nowhere to go and no cab to be found to take us quickly where we wanted to go.

In spotless Singapore, we had to find some bushes and be as discreet as possible! Anyone with children knows these things happen. 

Onwards we marched, sweat dripping and Jamie and I taking turns carrying Kobra. We passed a doggie day care resort only for Zenchai to remark that Kobra needed to go there for some brushing up - because her hair "was messy like a dog's". 

Finally, we tracked down Fidgets Play Centre at Turf City, a huge shopping complex. Although it wasn't cheap, it was worth it. We hardly saw Zenchai, who in quick time was running around and playing with other kids. Kobra enjoyed it as well. Parents usually take a seat, grab a coffee, read a magazine and let the kids run wild. There are TV cameras to help you locate or observe your child. It was, for want of a better word, mayhem. But this was a Saturday afternoon.

The highlight for Zenchai was getting his face painted - as The Joker! The other children gathered round as Zenchai underwent his makeover. He said he really liked the woman painting him, because she reminded him of his grandmother in England.

"She spoke exactly like grandmere and was the same size," he said. 

But for someone not wanting attention, Zenchai sure attracted a lot of glances, particularly on the train on the way back to our hotel and a shopping mall at Clementi Station, where we stopped for dinner. As soon as he returned to the hotel, he had me wipe off the paint. 

The next morning for breakfast we set off to Little India, where Zenchai polished off a Masala Dosai. He'd missed them since leaving Kuala Lumpur. We found a place which offered quality food for excellent prices.

On the way back to our hotel on foot we passed a giant supermarket - the type that sold absolutely everything. If the durian was our purchasing disaster of the weekend, buying some clippers to cut Zenchai's hair was the greatest deal. For the equivalent of a few haircuts (£7.50), I came out of the store with a fine electrical appliance.

I left Jamie and the kids at a playground while I returned to the hotel to prepare for my test. I met up with them later and we headed off into the Arab quarter for some dinner. More disappointment: no falafel; moussaka that was plain and didn't have the advertised chick peas; ran out of pita bread; inflated prices etc. 

The night wasn't over. We went to bed, but at 2.30am while everyone was fast asleep, I tiptoed around the room to get dressed and went around the corner from our hotel to watch England's exit on penalties (again) from the Euro 2012 against Italy. 

It was around 5am when I returned to sleep. Singapore was still pretty busy. I took Zenchai out for some coconut water and flesh for breakfast and then strolled with the kids around the block while Jamie did the packing.

Little did I know I was wondering through a red light district. Prostitutes were all over the pavement and they swarmed over Kobra, pulling at her little cheeks and trying to take her away from me for a cuddle. Quickly, I got her out of there. Zenchai reacted angrily when they tried approaching him. Too much attention for the kids. It was time to head out of town.

Jamie had finished packing. We walked to the train station and then headed to the airport, let the children play for a while at the many excellent kids' facilities, got some food and checked in.

We flew to Bangkok airport, which was busy, and had time to kill. Although the clouds gathering outside looked stormy, I suggested we head into the sprawling city by train for some food. First we checked in and it was laughable to see the line of passengers at the next kiosk heading to Chennai, India - all with flat screen TVs!

It took about 40 minutes in and 40 minutes out by train. It was raining so hard that we couldn't really go anywhere. We purchased some food (but could find nowhere to eat it) and turned around. By then the trains were packed. That was our experience of Bangkok. 

By the time we reached the airport again it was nearly time to board. We scoffed down our food and headed through security, which is where the raw almond butter (mentioned earlier) comes in.

We'd bought a nice, big jar in Kuala Lumpur, because we can't find it in Chiang Mai. But security in Singapore deemed it a liquid and said we couldn't bring it through.

We'd carried it in our hand luggage from Kuala Lumpur, so thought nothing of doing the same from Singapore to Chiang Mai.

I could see the fury on Jamie's face when the security man, doing his job, of course, wouldn't back down.

"Don't mess with my almond butter!" told the story of my wife's painful expression. But he took it from us and, without waiting for us to go out of sight, dropped it into a bin. Ouch!!

"Do you realise how expensive that is?" said Jamie. 

That was the final straw to what was becoming an arduous journey. It was late when the plane touched down in Chiang Mai. Zenchai had shuffled in his seat like he'd dropped a jar of ants down his shorts. We were relieved to get off the plane. 

Our car was in the car park. We located it (eventually), paid 1,000 baht (£20) and headed home. 

As we drove, listening to Cat Stevens for about the 1,000th time, I remarked how great it was to live so close to the airport - about 10 minutes. Getting to the apartment was effortless, which is more than can be said for the rest of our adventure. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chiang Mai: Slower Pace Of Life

 

I USED to think the traffic lights in Las Vegas used to take an eternity to change. But I reckon Chiang Mai probably has the record for being the slowest.

Whenever you have an appointment in this town (especially during the busy hours) be sure to leave early or factor in some extra minutes for sitting at traffic lights.

On some days it can take me 30 minutes to complete a journey I'd usually make in 20 with green lights all the way.

 

The longest light change I have encountered is five minutes. But no-one seems to get overly frustrated. It just means the traffic piles up and you pull away from the lights with dozens of motorbikes around you instead of only a few.

Of course, there is a positive to having slow lights. You can be waiting in a long line of traffic and yet still make it through because the lights stay green so long. And it's useful, too, that you can turn left on a red light.

It's all just part of Chiang Mai life. While driving here seemed manic at first, now, after having cruised here a few months, I find it quite comfortable, having got used to the rhythm of the traffic. You have to keep your wits about you as bikes overtake on the inside and out. But, generally, I find that the traffic moves slower than, say, in London. Driving here seems therefore safer and far less aggressive. It's completely tame compared to somewhere like India.

The driving is selfish, though. No-one lets you out. You have to force your way on to the road. And, as a pedestrian crossing a main road, don't expect cars to slow down - even if you are carrying or walking with a young child. Pedestrian crossings don't seem to matter greatly where they are not at a set of traffic lights.

While almost anything goes in India, life on the road seems more orderly in Chiang Mai. You do see motorbikes driving the wrong way on freeways and main roads occasionally. Motorcyclists often ride without helmets and send text messages as they go. And the police don't seem bothered except on days when it's on their agenda. 

Chiang Mai may be Thailand's second largest city, but it feels relatively small to other places we have stayed, like Kuala Lumpur or Buenos Aires. Getting to know the city is quick and easy. And if you get lost it doesn't take long to work out which direction to go. 

The traffic bothered me when I first came here, mostly because we were here during the intense land-burning in March and the volume of cars on the road, particularly during rush-hour, added to the pollution, but now it's just an accepted part of the scenery and lifestyle. 

 

 

When I look at the surrounding mountainscape from our apartment window each day I find it astonishing to believe that on our first visit here the trees and hills were practically invisible (see the contrasting photos above).

For one reason or another, we haven't yet fully explored the beautiful countryside - and there is a lot to see and do. I often wonder what it is that lures people to Chiang Mai and has them waxing lyrical about the place. Easy access to nature from the city is an often-given reason.

We are slowly growing fonder of the city, but so many people we meet who have relocated here describe it in almost-heavenly terms. We shall see if we feel the same in the months to come.