Having visited the doctor at hospital once more, I was x-rayed and the stones in my kidneys had moved. The pills I had been given the first time (and I took all of them, pretty much) had not worked their magic properly, and so I was given a stark dose of reality. If I did not sort them out very quickly then it could cause irreparable damage to my kidneys. As I figured these stones had been there since the last time I had suffered from the damn things, I – for probably the first time in my life – found myself accepting unquestionably the advice of someone who really knows best.

 

“What’s your suggestion doc?” I asked – my doctor being extremely good at English.

 

He listed my options, telling me that one of the stones was very close to my spine, so the shock wave treatment he would normally suggest might be a tad risky (i.e. if any fragments of the stone lodged in my spine it could leave me paralysed). After very little consideration, the recommendation was for an operation.

 

“Can you stay in now?”

 

“Why not?” I reckoned…

 

“We’ll do the op tomorrow, and you’ll be out Saturday.”

 

“In that case no chance,” I interjected. “I’ve got a football game tomorrow.”

 

We arranged I would go to in-patients the following Tuesday, the op on Wednesday, and I could leave probably Thursday.

 

“So what are you going to do exactly?” I asked.

 

He explained the process of sticking a tube up my wiener, then up through the uterus, and in to the kidneys where he would systematically smash each one so that they would get flushed out of my system.

 

“Sounds painful,” I said, my eyes already watering from the perceived pain my nob would be feeling in less than one week’s time.

 

“You’ll have a local anaesthetic, so you can watch what’s going on.”

 

“Trust me,” I replied, “I don’t want to watch you stick a tube up my wedding tackle. Can I have a full anaesthetic instead?”

 

He said I could, and it made no difference to him one way or the other.

 

I did all the paperwork with the in-patient department before leaving, where they told me they would call me when they wanted me in, and so off I headed, back home on the mountain bike.

 

I was telling people about the forthcoming operation and they were all worried for me, but at the time I had no concerns. Sure all operations are risky, but I trusted my doctor, and at the end of the day, kidney stones are not something any man wants to suffer from. It was me telling people not to worry, that everything would be fine.

 

Until the Monday arrived and I went shopping in Carrefour, picking up some snacks to take to the hospital. All of a sudden, anxiety hit me – and it was a massive wave of doubt, almost to the point of panic, and it came close to bringing me to tears. But within 5 minutes I was back to my old self, without a care in the world.

 

So on the Tuesday lunchtime I was with the kitty, giving her a cuddle when the phone rang and it was the hospital, asking me to be there around 3, so the kitty comforted me, and I comforted the kitty, as the last couple of hours went by.

 

I packed by bag – being sure to take the computer - left home, took the Suzuki, and parked in the little known parking lot next to the hospital complex, stopping off on the way at the Family Mart to buy snacks. No, I had not forgotten to pack the ones I had bought the previous day – I had already eaten them. Nom nom!

 

In to the inpatients department, where the paperwork was signed – so I did not know what it was I was signing, but cared little. They are standard forms and other people were signing them, so I figured I would too. If it meant signing away the millions of dollars I don’t have, then so be it. I don’t care who has the money I don’t have anyway. Get in line for it chaps.

 

The nurse took some blood for some tests, your humble chronicler making his usual bullshit jokes about not taking too much and feigning pain, making the rather cute young lady (cute from the little I saw of her given the fact that most of her face was covered by a mask) smile and laugh a little. Finally I was led to the ward and shown my bed, so I unpacked the computer, ignoring for the moment the hospital clothing that I would doubtless not be able to ignore for too much longer.

 

I was nice and relaxed, having an evening of Football Manager and pizza, deciding not to opt for the veggie food offered by the hospital.

 

The next morning, after an uncomfortable and loud night of very little sleep, thanks to 17 consecutive hours of one of my room mates snoring, in came the doc to give me a briefing. I had already decided I was going home that evening – there was no chance I was going to survive another night of that snoring. I missed my bed, I missed my cat, I missed my peace and quiet. 

 

“General anaesthetic please,” I asked the doc.

 

“You sure you want to go home?”

 

“Absolutely certain.”

 

After a couple of hours of waiting I was finally taken to the operation prep room, where I seemed to be the source of amusement, not because of any jokes I was making but the fact that I was not Taiwanese, and therefore was a novelty in this part of the hospital.

Many years ago I broke my leg – and despite having not eaten for some days, I still had to wait 8 hours before my operation. As I was in the prep room, they stuck a needle in my arm, followed fairly quickly by a syringe.

 

“What does that do?” I asked.

 

“It relaxes you.”

 

“Oh….ok.”

 

A short while later, relaxation not really setting in because I was already relaxed anyway, a second syringe appeared.

 

“So what does this one do?”

 

“This will put you to sleep,” the nurse said, as she emptied the syringe in to my arm.

 

30 seconds later, I was still compus mentus.

 

“When will it put me to sleep?”

 

A few surprised glances around the room told me that this was not supposed to happen. Shortly afterwards another syringe appeared, and that is about as much as I remember.

 

In hospital for the kidney stone op, along came a syringe.

 

“What does that do?” I asked.

 

If there was an answer, I don’t remember it. I was out like a light.

 

I came to with a sensation that I needed a piss. I looked around but there was nothing really making it from my eyes to my brain. The first real thing that I remember is a nurse giving me a chocolate, which I thought was very nice of her.

 

“Xie xie” I said.

She spoke to me in English, so whilst I was listening to her, I unwrapped the chocolate from its foil.

 

“Don’t eat it,” she said.

 

“Why not?”

 

“You’ll be sick.”

 

“No I won’t.”

 

But I stopped unwrapping it anyway. For the moment.

 

As she turned away, I popped it in my mouth. Yummy.

 

Was I sick? Be serious.

 

The doc came to me and asked me if I was absolutely certain about going home that day, and I reaffirmed my intention. I had already called Café India to tell him I was coming in, and not to worry about delivering to the hospital. Great man, that he was prepared to deliver to me…

 

He asked me if there was anything special I wanted prepared, and I said sure – telling him about the interesting new dishes I had found and wanted to try. He got the chef n it immediately, and I hung up. Now all I had to do was make sure I was in good enough shape to be discharged from hospital. Reading my book was boring, there was no TV anyway, and playing Football Manager was not so easy. I was immobile, a tube stuck up my wiener and leading down to a big bag which was filled with a weird yellow liquid. Until I realised of course what it was.

 

The afternoon was one of the slowest I have ever had, and I so desperately wanted to get up and walk, the doctor telling me I would not be stable. Tosser. Of course I would be stable. I wanted to get up and go to the toilet, but I was stuck where I was.

 

Around 7 the doc was supposed to come and look at me, but no one came. I managed to sit up and get to the bottom of the bed, trying in vain to catch someone’s attention, but there was no one interested in poor old me. Bastards. I was hungry and ready for Café India. I wanted out but there was no sign of anyone. Finally, at 7:30 the doc came in, and left almost immediately – COME ON!!!! LET ME GO HOME!

 

45 minutes later he returned, pulled out the tube and said I should go to the toilet, where I would quite possibly experience some discharge. I told him I cared not, as long I could get a discharge from the hospital. I went to the bathroom, peed a little blood at the end of it, cared not a fig, got dressed, and walked to the counter where I asked if I needed to sign anything. They said no, so I looked at the doc, said thanks, asked is it ok to go… everything was fine. All I needed to do was go to the cashier and pay my cash – no worries.

 

Off I headed…

 

Café India was awesome!

Over the Easter weekend perhaps it was only right and fitting that Judas – in whatever format – returned. The Red Lions chairman, as is only right, headed out to Bangkok early, to make last minute organisation for transport and additional players, as well as to get a round of golf in with Alejandro. And also failing on all 3 counts.

 

Arriving at the hotel – avoiding temporarily the temptation to make a quick stop at Nana Plaza, despite the frantic attempts of girls in various bars to get the taxi to stop – I checked in – no sign of aforementioned golf partner, but I figured he would be there on the later flight.

 

With the withdrawal due to injury of Charles and Stew, the Red Lions were now getting down to a barebones team, and despite the attempts at securing the services of some locals, our friend Ralf – a Red Lion at heart if ever there was one – was not able to get in touch with the guys he thought would be able to play for us. The heat – in more ways than one – was well and truly on.

 

The next morning, after missing breakfast, I headed out for coffee, then sorted out the transport to Patana school – Mr J (for it is he!) promising me he would come over to pick us up from the hotel – all I needed to do was call him the previous evening and let him know when to be there. It would cost 800 Baht for a return trip. Nice one – I thought. Wrongly.

 

I returned to the hotel – but still no sign of Alejandro, who shall from hereon after be known as Judas II. So that was the end of the golf aspirations. What to do? Temptation was a mere 5 minute walk away, so I took a walk and stopped in a bar for a beer.

 

For the rest of the day’s activities, there will be no reports of anything as what happened on tour stays there.

 

Nick had arrived on Thursday night, so on the Friday, after checking the hotel to see if Judas II had arrived, we arranged to get together for the captain’s meeting at the Old German Beerhouse, home of the GAS Bangkok that evening. He had a few “errands” to run for the Tuna, your humble scribe opting for a cultural tour of the Temple of the Dawn and the Reclining Buddha, shedding a new light on the Bangkok that I know.

 

In the evening Nick and I got together for a quick cold beer, preparation (you understand) for the forthcoming excitement of the draw for the competition. Having just received a message from the Chihuahua who had not realised he needed a visa to get to Thailand, the team was down to 9, and with Judas II no longer expected, down to 8. The clouds of gloom and doom gathered over the Old German Beerhouse, our destiny pretty much sealed already.

 

Ralf greeted us with more bad news – he had not been able to secure the services of anyone yet, but “don’t worry” – he’ll get someone for us. Nick and I found Robots, sat down with a beer and waited for the draw.

 

With just 18 teams this year – the tournament like everything else a victim of the global economic slowdown – there would be 3 groups of 6 teams, with group A starting at 9, group B at 9:30 and group C at 10.

 

Wouldn’t you know it. Mongrels got group C. Lions group A. Robots’ smug smile was the last thing we needed, yet still we got it. We were drawn in the same group as Latini, Swiss Singapore, German all Stars Singapore, London Panthers and Shanghai Krauts. A group of death if ever there was one.

 

So off to get some Indian food for dinner, and then an evening of entertainment that only a city like Bangkok can offer.

 

Being the organized guy I am, I called up Mr J who promised everything would be fine, he would be at the hotel at 7:50, but the price would be 1000 Baht each way. Must have Chinese blood. No biggie. I arranged wake up calls for everyone, except Judas II of course, then settled down for some of the aforementioned entertainment.

 

The gathering at the breakfast table told me everything I needed to know about the state of the Red Lions on the Saturday morning. Jim “Shambles” Campbell had been out with his Hibernian muckers, finally making it back to the hotel at sparrowfart. Rooney, Paddy and George looked little – if at all – better.

 

The next miracle was getting the transport. I called up the elusive Mr J, who it turned out was on his way to the airport to pick up a client. Tosser. Definitely Chinese blood. We bundled the team in to 2 taxis, lots of space available for the small squad of 8.

 

So let it be said for the record, the Red Lions Bangkok 8:

 

Andy

George

Nick

Paddy

Rob

Volker

Shambles (Andy)

Shambles (Jim)

 

Ralf turned up, we managed to secure the services of a couple of ringers, and the team hit the field against Latini for the first game.

 

Seldom – if ever – has the fate of a team been sealed so early in a competition as it did for the Red Lions in Bangkok’s Easter tournament 2009. Our game was on the main pitch, and the first to kick off. The Latini had kick off, and about 2 seconds later were 1-0 up, the shot coming straight from kick off, sending the Red Lions keeper scrambling back towards the goal line and missing the ball altogether.

 

A howler of a start from the master of the howler.

 

Things could only get better, you thought. 3 minutes later it was 2-0, 2 minutes after that 3-0. Half time was still several minutes away, and the Lions were on a hiding to nothing. Of the players on the pitch, only one (Andy Campbell) looked like he had actually played before, the rest of us looking old, haggard and seriously hungover. We made it to half time without conceding any more goals. The first major task of the weekend successfully completed.

 

We lost 4-0. I’ll mention no more about the match – the first 2 seconds said it all.

 

We then had a 3 hour wait until the next match, so we could watch and take some comfort from the Mongrels team, who got stuffed almost as much as we did in their opening two games.

 

Finally we were back on the pitch against Swiss Singapore. Despite a better performance, we managed to lose 2-0. Shortly after that we were up against GAS Singapore, losing 1-0, and staring at a whitewash of defeats and blanks on the GOALS FOR column. The Lions were playing better football, with Nick and Paddy getting in some well timed tackles, Rooney, Andy Campbell and Volker working well in midfield, and Jimbo finally looking like someone who resembled knowing what he was doing, sobering up in the late afternoon sunshine. Even the goalkeeper made a save or two.

 

But the biggest chance for points was yet to come, and on the last game of the day, we played against the Panthers, who had had a mixed bag of results themselves, securing a couple of draws after also getting stuffed 4-0 in their opening match.

 

And who was to score for the Red Lions? Who else but that efficient German, Volker, putting the Red Lions on the score sheet early in the second half. However after a poor goal kick from your humble scribe once more, the defense failed to put in a challenge, and with just a few minutes left, the Panthers equalised, leaving the Lions disappointed, out of the cup, and ready for beer.

 

With one more group game to be played on the Sunday, our tournament was already decided – we were out of the cup, out of the plate, and left to play for the saucer, with all the other lower placed teams.

 

Andy, Paddy and I jumped in to a cab to take us back to the hotel, and as we reached Nana Plaza, on came the Red Lions song, so as we passed the girlie bars, there was a rendition of “You’re just too good to be true”, the taxi driver enjoying it almost as much as we did.

 

We reached the hotel, the chorus of “I LOVE YOU BABY…” echoing around the complex, bringing some welcome relief from the seemingly endless amount of piss taking that your humble chronicler had – quite rightly – had to endure all day after that howler in the first two seconds.

 

After a great team meal at the Bus Stop restaurant – with the sudden appearance of Stew Nield who had heard somewhere that there was a free dinner to be had - some guys headed out, some headed back to the hotel, and others refuse to say what they did, who they did and where they did it.

 

The Sunday morning saw us with no pressure, and the Lions assembled for a slightly later kick off at the breakfast table, looking 100% better than they had the previous morning. Of course, it would have been practically impossible not to look better than 24 hours earlier.

 

So the final round of group games still had something to play for, for our opponents at least. Shanghai Krauts hit the field, perhaps brimming with confidence knowing they were playing the bottom team. 3 easy points in the bag, perhaps?

 

But the Lions – as so often in the past – were not just going to lay down and take the punishment. Quite probably the best Lions performance of the tournament saw the Krauts rushed, harried and closed down, the Lions tackling hard but fair, Paddy, Nick and Jimbo all looking comfortable against their opponents, and a solid midfield performance.

 

Krauts took the lead, but amazingly enough, Rooney scored a nice little goal from a low cross in from the right wing (if my hazy memory serves me well) to make the half time score 1-1. With the half time scores from the other games coming in, the Krauts had gone from first to 3^rd, and were – currently – out of the Cup competition.

 

In the second half they pushed forward, knowing they needed to win, and get the bonus point for scoring 3 goals, but the defense stood firm. Fowler in goal finally produced something magical, with a venomous shot from the edge of the area coming in, spectacularly being pushed over the bar as he dived to his right. The Krauts attacker looked in amazement as the ball failed to go in, saying “I don’t believe you got that.”

 

But shortly afterwards, a rare mistake from the Red Lions German gave the ball away in midfield, and as the team scampered back, your humble narrator was forced in to making one more decent save, only for the ball to rebound kindly to an oncoming attacker who was slightly faster than his marker, smashing the ball in to the net with just 5 minutes to go.

 

Seconds later they got their bonus point, and then sat back, the result safe. Despite a good fight from the Lions, we ended the group phase in 6^th place, with just 2 goals for and 1 point. Which was still 2 and 1 (respectively) more than the Mongrels.

 

This gave us a Saucer match against Bayon Wanderers, who turned out to be a one man team, the Frenchie scoring all 3 goals in their victory against a Lions team which was tired. We had secured the services of a Cameroonian player from the Bangkok GAS who had looked a decent player in the warm up, but turned out to be crap. Possibly some of the other Lions playing for the Mongrels immediately before the game may have affected the performance, but at the end of the day, no one really cared anyway.

 

And that – as far as the Lions were concerned – was the end of the football for the weekend. Some players had to head to the airport for the early flight home, with Andy “Player of the Tournament” Campbell heading to Pattaya to meet up with his old man who had retired there. Apparently it was for the abundance of golf courses, and not the abundance of girlie bars which had attracted Shambles senior.

 

But the excitement still continued for the Mongrels, who took on the services of Ze German and your humble chronicler in a last ditch desperation filled effort to actually achieve something. Attack is where the Mongrels felt Robbie Fowler would be most effective, a decision which turned out to be proven correct as it was indeed I who had the final touch before the ball went over the line in the 1-0 win. Despite the shot coming in from another borrowed player from the home Bangkok GAS team, there is no way I was going to let anyone else claim at, as I got the last touch. I also made sure that everyone knew it. After all, a goal from Robbie Fowler is about as rare as a mainland Chinese politician admitting he was wrong.

 

And so to the Bayon Wanderers once more. Didn’t we just play you? Oh yea – that was with the Lions.

 

“Volker – mark that French git” I yelled, in German. All in vain, as the Wanderers scored to make it 1-0.

 

But the biggest surprise (for the Mongrels, and indeed quite possibly anyone who was watching the game, which essentially was no one) was yet to come. With a 4 on 4 situation at the front, somehow the fattest bastard on the pitch managed to lose his marker, and when the cross came in to the far post, he managed to power in a header, the goalkeeper diving in vain as the ball rippled the net. Fowler? Again? No way!

 

A minute later the Mongrels were ahead, with yet another import/borrowed player scoring a nice individual goal. Half time, the Mongrels in a shock 2-1 lead, and looking like a surprise result was on the cards.

 

Bayon scored to make it 2-2 in the second half, which sent the game to penalties, Swifty missing his, as the Wanderers scored all theirs, and so the Mongrels’ competition was now also over. Once again, Fowler’s cameo appearances outfield ensured joint top scorer status for the Mongrels. That’s got to be embarrassing for someone.

 

The winners of the Cup were the Red Lions’ final group opponents – the Shanghai Krauts over Les Gaulois. The Red Lions remaining at Patana School also got involved in a beer fight, drenching others and getting drenched in the excessive litres of that amber nectar as the hot sunshine and cold Warsteiners combined to increase the enjoyment of the weekend.

 

On a personal note, I would like to thank all those who turned up for the Lions to play. Next year instead of entering the main tournament, we will go for the veterans competition, which is 7 a side. Thanks also to Jim Campbell for turning out in the Red shirt of the Lions, and also to Andy Campbell for helping the Lions out, and being by far our best player. Not that there were many to choose from of course!

 

It’s this spirit inside the Lions that makes us the best team in Taiwan to play for. All in all, it was a great weekend, with football, beer and entertainment, sunshine and good banter. Nick’s farewell tournament may not have been the prettiest football you will ever see, but in true Lions fashion, it was a classic.

When I first arrived in the IT industry, over a decade ago, I was in charge of the marketing team, gradually being brought in to sales as well, which gave me a broad overview of how the industry and a slightly less broad view of how Taiwanese companies worked. All in all, that experience is what led me to coming to Taiwan in the first place.

Some people were taken on - not interviewed by me - as marketing assistants, and although on the whole they were ok, there was one who didn't know her arse from her elbow (and she had a damn large arse, I seem to remember) and it got to the point that I just had to let her go. Having never fired anyone before, and only been fired up to that point, all I knew was how NOT to do it. So when it came to letting her go, I was extremely nervous, trying to make the blow a little softer than the harsh realities that would soon bite.

In the end I thought I did a decent job of it, but I think I was shaking more than she was. 2 weeks later came the news that the company was relocating, and that your humble scribe would be the only one from the Berlin office to make the trek darn sarf to Munich. So I had to let others go. This time it was a lot easier, as one of the guys was a friend, so it was easy telling him - we headed out for a beer one evening, and I laid it on him straight. Andreas - being the easy-going guy he is - did not mind, and we both knew it would never affect the friendship. His career past was as topsy turvy as mine, having suffered several periods of being unemployed.

There was also a Bulgarian girl who thought she was Miss World, arrogant as hell (made me look humble and mild-mannered) but effective in her job, and this one was easy. In fact, I got such a rush out of laying her off (LAYING HER OFF!!!! Jesus....) that afterwards I felt exhilarated.

One of my experiences in life is that what goes around does not come around, but in fact goes around once more. History - essentially - repeats itself. And so, less than a week in to the new job, I was given the responsibility of laying off 2 sales personnel in the team. I had hardly spoken a word to them, but had observed them for a few days, not impressed really by what I saw.

So when El Presidente asked me what I thought - and I knew he was not impressed with them - the task in hand was to get all their client info, and then show them to the door. A little nervous at first, I got to the end of the getting their project information, and then it was a natural progression to the next stage.

As I got to this part of the conversation though, the door opened, and one of the female admin colleagues asked the guys what they wanted to order for their dinner (company sponsored meal for those who work past 7:30 - 8:00, which essentially is everyone) so they placed their order, and 3 minutes later they were history.

As I said to everyone - it's not a personal decision. It's business. And whereas emotions should be brought in to business in terms of passion for the job, company, client, relationships etc, at the end of the day these emotions should never cloud your view of what it is all really about - BUSINESS.

New Name...

I'm Donald Trump....

(More tomorrow!)

One Night in Bangkok

(Published in today's Exeter City Match Program, "The Grecian")

Over the Easter weekend, whilst you’re driving along the M4 to Brentford and heading to St James Park for the Wycombe game, spare a thought for your poor humble chronicler. I, too, will be heading south-west, but instead of heading round the M25 and along the M4, I will be flying from Taipei to Bangkok for the annual German All Stars Easter tournament.

Now in to its’ 27^th year, this is a football competition like no other. Around 50 teams from across Asia – from Mainland China to Australia, Japan to India - will descend on the Thai capital of “Entertainment” for a drunken weekend that will actually also include some football. Over 40’s teams will enter the “Veterans” tournament, with the rest competing for the “Open” Cup. This is the big overseas tournament of the year for the Taipei Red Lions, and as newly elected Chairman I have made a few changes to the format of our participation.

 

Usually staying in a dank, seedy hotel on Sukhumvit Soi 15, the Red Lions have this year been booked in to a dank, seedy hotel a lot closer to the heart of the girlie bars, and – so I am told – the ladyboy bars, which is hoped to make the drunken walk back from the bars safer and quicker. I am nothing if not a caring, warm-hearted chairman.

 

Despite the focus of this article so far being on the murkier side of the City of Angels, the real enjoyment of this weekend is without doubt the football. Three of the finest pitches you are ever going to play on are prepared every year for this tournament, and they are not just flat, but also amazing to play on, no matter what the weather. These pitches put the hallowed ground of St James’ Park to shame (and this is no disrespect to the groundsman at the Park!), with a surface so smooth, Sade could have sung a song about it. When the ball bounces, you know it’s not going to bobble (so no excuses for mis-hits – not good for the Lions!) which makes each game fast and exciting, with quality ALWAYS showing in the end.

 

Traditionally rainy season in Thailand, three of the last four years have seen 40 degree sunshine, and not a cloud in the sky. As this weather is not ideal for overweight amateurs to play on for too long, so it is good that each half is just 12 minutes long.

Now the Taipei Red Lions are not the prettiest footballers, either on or off the pitch, but we do have the same sort of fight that the Grecians have when 1-0 down. We don’t give up, and we secure – occasionally – the most unlikely of results. A couple of years ago we were up against the host team of the tournament, the Bangkok German All Stars who were confident of winning with ease.

 

The semi-hungover Red Lion team gave away a penalty in the first 2 minutes, your humble scribe however making the save, and then on a counter-attack, we scored to make it 1-0. And despite being sent off in the last minute of the game (which of course meant I had to get a round in, as did the penalty save!), we still managed to secure the win. In much the same way as Exeter has gained respect in League 2 this season, the Red Lions are now no longer looked at as an easy 3 points. 

 

We made it to the semi-finals that year – a feat that led to more drunken celebrations, similar to those witnessed at Wembley last May. And that – as all Grecians know – was one big party!

Musings

 

So more toads (I have been corrected, as always, by my mother. 40 years old, and still can’t get anything right!) have arrived in the pond downstairs. Alas the security cleaned out the pond, so all the tadpoles from the first batch this spring were killed. And with the cold front coming in, and now getting warmer once more, the toads are back, croaking their way through the evening, night and in to the early morning. Some people may find that interruptive, but not I!

 

After a warm and dry February, March has seen a lot more rain, and colder snaps, which have made it more difficult (i.e. less desirable) to go out on the mountain bike. Of course, I have not completely ignored the machine, and with the Skywave being back in for repairs, I was biking everywhere. But now the blue machine has returned to the roads, and in this weather, it is a lot more convenient to get any and everywhere by Suzuki.

 

Business has been interesting, with lots of projects coming to a head, and some interesting new ones on board, which have been successfully negotiated. Even in troubled economic times it is good to know that there is still some money to be made somewhere. All I see is stock markets being down by 60 to 70%, but as I have already lost a lot of money in stock some years ago during supposedly good times, perhaps it is only true to my form that I am not losing any (because I had no money left to invest!) during tougher times.

 

The Red Lions are at the end of the season and today marks the final game in the league, as well as the end of season party, organized by your humble chronicler. It should be a very good party tonight, as we say farewell to my predecessor as chairman, as well as having an awards ceremony, which has been sadly missing from the team for some time. Player of the year, especially, is extremely tight, with 3 people within 1 vote of each other. I am looking forward to a great evening.

 

Et and I went out this week – looking for a car, for Et’s business. After some searching, and some very rude and unhelpful people, especially at the VW dealership, we headed to the Hooters for some beers and dinner, then to Hell’s Kitchen for more alcohol. I think we got food poisoning from Hooters, as we were both sick the next morning. As I did not have a headache, I can only assume it was not from a hangover. So thankfully still it is only one hangover in my life. And the memory of that lingers on! Certainly for the fat boy, who was on the receiving end of it! Hahaha!

 

Linn and I have been on the rocky road recently. Last weekend she said those 4 words that pretty much mean bad things in any relationship – “we need to talk”. I spoke with her the weekend previously about work, and how I was happy doing my present job, but that seems not to be enough for her. She wants me to make mega bucks, offer stability. We live in a world where the whole economy has crashed, and she expects this? Ok… I can see that. It’s not easy having a relationship with someone from another culture and country, and communication is absolutely paramount to the survival of that relationship, in my humble opinion, but there are obviously so many other factors to take in to consideration. All I know is that I do my best to get out of this financial shite that I find myself in, and still get hassled for it. This is not motivation city. Thankfully, the thought of buying a new Suzuki or Kawasaki is… very shagadelic!

 

I have written a few articles for the Grecian magazine this season, and it is most pleasant to see my work getting published. If only some publisher would take a look at the book I wrote and decide similarly. I have been sending out the occasional mail to publishers and agents, but they are inundated with requests from everywhere, which I can understand, as it seems that everyone has written a book. But the latest article for the Exeter City match day programme will be up on the blog soon!

 

Bangkok coming up in just 10 days time! I am so excited, you would hardly believe it! The annual Easter tournament is coming up fast, and the Red Lions will be there once more. It should be a great tournament. Add to that a friendly game with a Korean team which should be arranged for next weekend, and you have a lot of football to keep me busy. I may well be lazy when it comes to writing new stuff for the blog, but there is plenty of action out there in the field!

Cebu Shitty

We checked out, and jumped in to the sidecar of the motorcycle as the rider put our bags on the roof. After a bumpy 500 metres some girl jumped on behind the rider, and another 250 metres a 2^nd girl squeezed on behind the first. Finally we made it to the bus stop where I handed over a few pesos, and we waited for the Ceres Liner to take us up the coast, across the mountain and back up to the island’s Capital.

 

As usual, another crazy ride, the bus driver obviously caring very little about anyone else on the road. We got to a break spot where we waited maybe 15 minutes – this was obviously the place where bus drivers could stop for a break, but for me, all I cared about was getting somewhere so I could just rest. The headache was coming back with a vengeance, and the bumpy road was helping not one bit.

 

A few hours after leaving we made it to the bus station, jumped in to a taxi that took us to the hotel and finally we were back in the land of the living, back in civilisation, where television was available. And there, at last, I was able to escape the constant whining that had been with us since arriving in Moalboal and we found out no TV was in the room. First thing that happened – she turned on the TV and peace surrounded us.

 

There was a shopping mall opposite the hotel (well, you had to cross 2 crazy roads to get there, but essentially it was opposite) and after I had had a bath, and decided to go to bed to try to sleep off this bastard headache of mine, Linn went out to get something to eat. Whilst she was gone, I went to the bathroom, stuck my fingers down my throat, and vomited, deciding that I was bored with feeling ill. Ok, it may not be the most conventional way of getting rid of a bug, but damn it was effective.

 

An hour or so later Linn came back with pizza for me, my favourite of a cheese with olives, but I was not hungry just yet. I drank lots of water, and slowly started to feel better. I decided on a slice of pizza after all, and it was alright. One slice was enough though, as we watched TV until bedtime. Linn was definitely happy to be able to channel hop once more, after literally days of not being able to watch the idiot box.

 

We had decided to have a look around the mall the following day, so after a nice breakfast we booked the trip to Bohol for the following day then headed out to the mall, for some shopping, eating and relaxing. And money changing.  We had taken a walk around, seeing the various shops, looking at places we wanted to revisit once we had got some cash, and Linn told me there was a supermarket in the mall. I suggested there were 2 supermarkets, but Linn was insistent – there was only one. Sounds like a bet.

 

“Want to put money on it?” I asked.

 

She did. So the wager was on. And so upstairs we went, to the supermarket, picking up dried mango and banana chips, as well as some other things needed. Then down to the bottom level we went, and what do you know? There’s supermarket number 2.

 

“Buy my things in here, and we can call it quits,” I said without too much gloating. At least, on the outside! Inside I was glad that my powers of observation were still obviously very well intact, and looked forward to some free goodies… coffee beans and the like.

 

We had a coffee and cake at one of the many coffee shops this mall had to offer, the coffee way too sweet, as was the young lady who served, had some lunch, headed back to the hotel, where we were told that the trip to Bohol had been cancelled for the following day. Linn turned back on the idiot box, and watched a little, as I wondered what to do.

 

 It was new year’s eve, and so I thought about finally planning something for us. I headed to reception, asked what the likelihood was that something nice would be available, and they said probably no chance in restaurants outside the hotel.

 

“What about here?” I asked.

 

“There’s a buffet – you can ask the Maitre D’” came the reply.

 

Off I headed, and before long it was obvious there was nothing there for vegetarians. So I spoke with the 2 ladies there who said I could order something a la carte. Cool, I said, it’s a done deal, and booked the places. Of course, I should have looked at the menu!

 

Having showered and got ready, we headed back downstairs for our last meal of 2008, and headed in to the restaurant. I was given the menu to look at, but was mega disappointed that there was nothing vegetarian on offer there either. I called over the manager.

 

“Look, I know today is your busiest day, but is there any way you can ask your chefs to cook something for me that is NOT on the menu?”

 

Having found out what I eat, and what I don’t, off he trundled, and came back a few minutes later with suggestions of tofu and veggies to which I agreed. Off went Linn, coming back with about ¾ of a farm and half the ocean on her plate, enjoying her carnivorous buffet.

 

My dinner arrived shortly afterwards, and it was so amazing, I asked for them to give me a second helping, which was just as good as the first. We drank some wine, and feasted from the dessert tray (which was a buffet in itself). I tipped big, and we headed upstairs to the party by the pool, where a half Filipino, half African-American pop singer was laying out some awesome tunes. I ordered 2 mojitos, which took an eternity to arrive. In fact, it was only when I saw the restaurant manager once more – a Hong-Kongese Filipino – that I got the service I demanded – there was no fresh mint available, so I said fine – mix it without the mint.

 

Midnight came, the fireworks were spectacular, the party slowed down and around 1 or 1:30 we headed back to the room for some sleep.

 

The next morning, with the plans for Bohol now out of the window, we decided to head out in a taxi to down town, have a look at the historic city, especially Magellan’s Cross, the Cathedral and the castle. Photos were taken, except of the castle, which was closed for renovation – the renovation being a tunnel that was being built under it by the Japanese.

 

It was a nice warm, sunny day as we looked around, then headed to the main shopping street, which was about as attractive for shoppers as a trash dump site. Let’s make no bones about it – get out of the smart, posh areas of this town (of which there are very few) and you are in to the real basics of life.

 

This was found to be reconfirmed as we headed across to Mactan island over the bridge, to Lapu Lapu city, close to the airport. There were some interesting sites to see – Magellan’s Marker, and the monument or shrine to Lapu Lapu, the man who essentially put the Spanish plans for colonialisation of the Philippines back 40 years. We walked along to the riverbank and on to a small marina, where there were a few kids who spoke to us the few words they have been taught.

 

“Give me money.”

 

Not going to happen mucker.

 

After the half day trip around the interesting sites to be seen, we headed back to the shopping mall, had some very late lunch at Banana Leaf and then walked back to the hotel. As we had an early morning flight the next day, we decided to order pizza for dinner, so I called up a place that could deliver, and they said they could only deliver a big one. No worries – big one it is. How much? No problem…

 

The damn thing was enough to feed Zimbabwe. But seriously tasty, and with an excellent spicy sauce to go with it.

 

The flight home the next morning was boring – we had a coffee and doughnut for breakfast at Cebu airport, and probably the worst ever coffee at Manila as we had a long wait for the transfer. Thankfully I had bought a couple of books in the mall in Cebu City, so I was entertained for a while. Linn read one of the books, but got not very far… reading is not her thing really, especially not in English.

 

And that was it – we arrived back in Taiwan, picked up the motor and zoomed up the coast to a kitty who was very happy to see us (me) back. It’s a wonderful thing to come home to!

Sakura

 

One of the good things about having the home office and very little to do is the fact that I can tonk out on the mountain bike or the Suzuki whenever I like. Which – in good weather – is just about every day. January and February were unusually mild this year, and so on one particularly gorgeous morning, I jumped on the Skywave, camera in tow, and headed up in to the mountains, on the trail of sakura blossom.

 

Taipei blossom season had been touted as starting on 20^th February, so a week beforehand may have been considered a little optimistic, but this is what your humble scribe is known for. Heading in to Tienmu first to sort out a couple of errands, I then headed up the mountain close to where my old mucker Michael used to live, before he traded in the life in the mountains in the posh part of Taipei for the beach life in the posh part of Hawaii.

 

It didn’t take long before the first photo opportunity arose – but it was not blossom that caught my eye! Something moved on the rocks to my right, and my quick eyes focused on a lizard, trying to blend in to the background. I remained as still as I could be whilst bringing my camera in to position, hoping the lizard would be friendly to me, and it was! It did not move, as I zoomed in, pressed the shutter and waited for the taken photo to appear on screen. Nice one. Thanks lizard.

 

Continuing up the mountain there were a few pink blossoms, but nothing really worthy of a photo. The colours of spring were beginning to appear, but it was just early days. Perhaps today would really be a touch too early, I thought to myself. I was resigned for it, but still continued up, hoping that the springtime flowers really would be out in force in this beautiful late winter warmth.

 

I was not to be disappointed – the springtime colours were coming out in force, with the beautiful and lightly fragrant sakura blossom in one secluded spot, close to a shrine I had never seen before. With the cloudless blue sky in the background I was able to take some nice photos. I got to the top of the mountain, and headed to one of my favourite eating places.

Despite being on a diet, I still needed food, and so I stopped at the veggie place where the olds got ill last year. Some rice and veggies were ordered and eaten before heading down the mountain, stopping to get some more photos wherever I saw the opportunity. And there were more opportunities – the afternoon sunshine offering a glorious backdrop to the flowering trees. It was absolutely breathtaking.

 

The warm weather also brought an early return of the frogs to the pond in the courtyard downstairs. I was – as always – so excited to hear them croaking. There were 9 that I counted in the pond, all horny after a winter of hiding in the leaves, trying to stay warm. I got home on one evening and caught a couple of them getting lucky.

 

Whilst riding the mountain bike in and out of football training during the week I took the riverside bike path which Taipei County government has kindly built, through the mangrove swamps of Guandu, and in to Taipei city itself. This is a segment of land that has not been built on yet – and hopefully never will. But who can tell what the future brings? And with our former president in jail now on corruption and embezzlement charges, perhaps the future will bring about an even more corrupt politician. Anyway, past the mangrove there are rice paddies, where egrets look for fish, and frogs sing their hearts away in the warm springtime evenings.

 

With the world’s amphibian population suffering, it is good to know that out here in Taiwan the frogs are doing very well. I just hope it does not bring about a rise in popularity for frogs leg soup! That would be typical of Taiwan…

 

But there are no 2 ways about it – Taiwan in springtime is stunning. Get out of the cities and in to the mountains and forests when the sun is shining, and you will see some of the most spectacular colours and sights that nature can offer.  Some people have asked me why I don’t leave, especially with the economy in tatters, but where would I go? Where could – for me – even come close? Rainy season may well be coming up, but whenever the sun peaks out through the clouds, I’ll be off exploring the beauty that this island has to offer.

Mole Bowl

 

With the disappointment of having to miss out on Et and Brigitte’s wedding still hanging heavily in the heart, Linn decided to take me some place over new year for a small holiday. Her treat. After a little umm-ing and ahh-ing, she chose the date, and I said I would sort out the rest.

 

We ended up choosing to go to Philippines, and Cebu island for some diving. She had never dived before, so I said I would treat her to a discover scuba session as her Christmas present. I would also get in a couple of dives in the diving paradise that is Moalboal.

 

We booked the flights, found a resort that was costing us just a few dollars, and decided to take the bus down from Mactan island to the resort. Until I realised that the flight got us in to Mactan late at night, so instead I arranged for the resort to pick us up.

 

In to Manila for the connecting flight, we got some food (that means Linn got some food) and a coffee. The food was so so (thankfully I had prepared some sandwiches to take, so I ate Linn’s, having finished mine before we left Taipei) and the coffee not that good.

 

Cebu Pacific’s flights were amazingly on time, this new terminal of theirs having increased their efficiency, and we landed in Mactan just before 8. We tried to change Linn’s travelers cheque, but I did not like the rate being offered. Thankfully your humble chronicler had been smart and brought enough USD to cover everything, despite being told I did not need to bring much cash.

 

The drive down took us through Carcar, where we stopped for some mango juice and refreshment, your humble narrator starting to suffer from what was to be a long-winded headache. Back in to the car, and through the mountains, as the car weaved it’s way to the summit and down to the western side of Cebu island.

 

Once on the coast, it was a mere 50 kilometres to Moalboal and the resort, where we checked in.

 

“No TV? It’s going to be so boring!” stated Linn.

 

Given the lack of evening entertainment, we went to bed.

 

The next morning we headed to the resort check in to pay and sort out some dives, getting introduced to the resident German dive master, and the guy who would become my personal dive buddy and team leader, alas his name escapes me. Nice bloke though.

 

I booked 3 dives and Linn got her discover scuba course sorted out. 1 dive was for that arvo and the other 2 for the next day. We went out to get some brekkie, as the power went out for the 3^rd time that morning, and paid for everything – the resort, the ride from the airport and all the dives, changing the rest of the USD in to Pesos.

 

Brekkie consisted of Thai food for me, and Filipino food for Linn, but was not exactly fantastic either way. No matter what Anthony Bourdain says (see http://www.viddler.com/explore/TravelChannel/videos/87/) food in the Philippines is crap. Sorry to any Filipino friends I may have, but unless you eat non-native food, and even that can sometimes be a hit and miss thing, you are not going to be exactly thrilled by the contents of your plate or bowl.

 

My headache was beginning to piss me off, and get stronger, despite drinking lots of water, and as afternoon approached, I was lacking the excitement towards the forthcoming dive. Still, I headed over to the dive shop, Linn deciding to catch up on her beauty sleep, in typical Taiwanese fashion. If ever sleeping was an Olympic sport, the Chinese, Hong-Kongese and Taiwanese would have the podium covered.

 

The dive was good – I had no problems with the equipment this time (see post passim) and despite the bastard pressure in my head from the headache and the additional pressure from being 20 metres below sea level, I really enjoyed it. The visibility was high, and we saw loads of things, including a Lion Fish (finally!) and a Scorpion fish, and apparently sea horses, although I did not see them because I was looking at some barracuda whilst our dive leader was pointing them out.

 

Moalboal is recognized as one of the top diving sites in Philippines, and for good reason. The locals have worked out that tourists = money, fish bring in the tourists, therefore they should not dynamite the coral to get the fish to stick on the grill. Unlike Malapascua, where the island has gone from having 300 inhabitants 10 years ago to around 4500 today, with no fish within 500 metres of the shoreline because they have all been hunted and eaten, Moalboal has retained this balance of nature where the eco system has been maintained, and the local economy is working decently. Sure there are girlie bars, but not as in your face as Makati City in Manila. All in all, the balance is there, and it is a good one, for local standards.

 

Despite not being too hungry we decided to eat at an Italian place, having walked the entire length of the resort’s village, finding very little that appealed. The power had gone off once more and so the restaurant was lit by rows of candles. We sat outside, on the terrace and ordered – the food not bad at all, it has to be said.

 

I had an early start the next morning, with a dive and despite the headache not dissipating in any way whatsoever, I managed to drum up some enthusiasm. And why not? After all, this dive would prove to be one of the most spectacular of the very few dives I have been on in my shirt history as a diver.

 

The dive leader took us to an island where he thought we might find some turtles, and I was a mere 5 metres behind him as he pointed to 2 giant turtles swimming off in the distance to his left. I was not looking at them though, simply because of something our dive leader had failed to notice himself.

 

I pointed to his right, so he looked, and there, not even a metre from where he was, another giant turtle glided gracefully. The dive leader was visibly surprised, and I flashed a smile though my diving apparatus, trying not to laugh. In total we saw 6 turtles, and again some beautiful fish and marine life.

 

Now I am not a man to get excited about corals, but on the final dive of the afternoon I did just that. We had been diving around an island, seen fish but as we approached 5 metre depths, we were witnessing some of the most amazing colours I have ever seen. The sun had made it through the clouds and thereby brought in some of the most vivid colours you could ever see under water. The hundreds of multi-coloured fish in the stunning and elaborate corals were awesome, and despite the strong current in the water, we observed for the last few minutes until the boat arrived to take us back to the resort.

 

As we got back on the boat I asked if it is possible to get seasick from swimming in the water, and one of the fellow guests said she had felt the same way once before. I was really not feeling good as I got back on to the boat, and by the time we made it back to shore I was pale and not looking at all well.

 

The dives were over, and Linn had done her scuba course, apparently having enjoyed it, but pretty non-committal towards finishing the open water diver course. This evening was our last in the resort, as we had decided to stay just for the two full days, and head back to Cebu City for the last couple of days, hoping also to get a trip to Bohol and the Chocolate Hills before we left Phils. We headed to a place for dinner, had a very nice meal, despite the restaurant being completely packed as we arrived. There were no tables or spaces available, but in much the same way as the Filipinos will make an extra lane out of a 2 lane highway, a little shuffling around and what do you know? Suddenly there’s space for an extra table, which was brought expertly up the stairs, and 2 chairs. Nice one.

 

We were also treated to a soap-opera-esque performance from what I assume was a Filipina and her western boyfriend, the boy having been caught cheating by aforementioned Filipina, and not responding much to the threats being made against him. The fact that he was pissed out of his head probably added to his overall confusion. It made for interesting entertainment from our front-row viewpoint though.

 

The food was yummy, the Japanese tourists leaving early, leaving Linn and I aalone to watch the drama developing below. We decided to eat brekkie there the next day, just before we left for Cebu City.

 

Brekkie was also just fine, and we asked what entertainment they were laying on that day (I asked, Linn would never be so rude). None though, but it mattered little as we munched our way through whatever it was we ate. Linn had a fish and rice. I probably had a cheese omelette. Can’t remember too much – I was, alas, still suffering from that bastard headache.

 

To be Continued…

Wedding Smells

 

I was in trouble from the moment Linn opened her mouth.

 

“My brother is having his wedding party on 15^th February.”

 

It’s a Sunday. It’s in football season. Is he completely nuts? Take away the fact that he got married 2 years ago, am I seriously expected to head down to Hsinchu and miss football? Apparently I was. That stinks.

 

I explained that the party should be put back, but the invitations had been sent out, the party organised a long time ago.

 

“Is there any way I can not go?” I asked, desperation setting in. No disrespect meant, but why should I go to someone’s wedding when he does not appreciate my cooking?

 

Some time ago, I cooked African food for Linn and her family, and whereas the father will eat whatever he’s given, and the sister-in-law is most appreciative, the brother himself made no disguise of the fact that he did not trust my food, and instead of eating the mafé he wanted chicken. And so he ate chicken. Thus my decision was made – never to cook for him again. Ungrateful bastard.

 

There were no words uttered from Linn’s mouth, but the look gave me all the answer I needed. I was shackled to it. Bollocks.

 

So I told the Red Lions I was not available, picked up my suit from the dry cleaners (hey, just because I don’t want to go to a wedding doesn’t mean I am not going to look absolutely fantastic!) and rode the Suzuki down to Hsinchu, perfectly on time once more, despite the Skywave breaking down 400 metres from the restaurant.

 

No sign of Linn, but that was normal. She’s always late and never tells me where she is anyway. Finally though she arrived, along with my suit, and I swiftly jumped in to the dunny to change my clothes.

 

City shirt off, Van Heusen shirt on, tie on. Door opens. A clown came out of the crapper, and left very quickly, not even bothering to wash his hands, which was rather strange given the absolutel stench that was emanating from the crapper. It was as if a herd of elephants had died and started rotting in the heat of the African sun. I looked out the window and saw vultures circling. I almost gagged.

 

I finished getting changed, checking myself in the mirror once more, cooing at just how handsome I was, which some of you may find a little conceited, but then you probably have not seen me in a suit recently, and let me tell you, I look good in a Boss suit. One thing was for sure, I was going to be better dressed than the groom.

 

I got out and was seated alone whilst Linn did other things. Finally some other people sat down, introducing themselves as Linn’s cousin and respective boyfriend. Nice to meet you, yada yada yada. Some young girl came in, with fishnet stockings, and what I would call the slutty look. I wanted to make a comment, but held my  tongue, which was fortunate because after she had made her greetings at another table, she came over and sat at mine, being introduced as the cousin’s sister.

 

Slutty girl had the look, but as a mere teenager, not the right way to bring it across.

 

By now I was bored, and the guests had started arriving, opening up the bottle of Johnny Walker black label that was placed on every table. Your humble chronicler was forced in to drinking a small glass of beer with Linn’s uncle, as he came over to greet me. For the first time in my life I made 100 cl of beer last 3 hours.

 

Despite the guests all arriving, the set up of the party was still going on. Terrible organisation in my humble opinion. Then the “entertainment” started – enter stage right the MC, introducing the shitty magician. Ok, his tricks were ok, but performed without passion, as though he was bored. Listen mucker, you’re being paid lots of wonga (comparatively) for doing bugger all. Smile a little – it won’t bloody hurt! I decided not to clap, the stench of that crap still burning a whole through my nostrils. Man, that was nasty.

 

Then some musicians, again lacking passion. What is it about this place?

 

The food came out, the caterers bollocksing up once more the food for your humble scribe. Despite being told I am vegetarian, they thought that because I eat garlic and onion, I also eat seafood. Manuel…let me explain!

 

When they had worked out my veggie option the food was better than the last wedding Linn and I headed to (see posts passim) but it was standard fare. If and when I get married, I will make sure that any vegetarians in the ceremony are well catered for with something special. If all the non-veggies get excellent food then why should those who do not eat meat be served with something that is not up to the same standard? But I digress.

 

Chinese weddings dictate that the bride should have 3 dresses throughout the ceremony, and so off she went at regular intervals to get changed. It must be said, she looked stunning. I would say – in quite an unbiased way – that she was the only one who looked better than your humble narrator. But the dresses…well they were nothing special.

 

So why – I hear you ask – did the marriage and wedding ceremony have a delay of 2 years? Well, a 15 month old niece should explain that to you, especially when you understand that aforementioned child was not exactly planned. Been there. Done that. Missed out on the wedding though, thankfully. Thank the Lord for small mercies.

 

Finally the guests started to leave, taking a photo with the bride and groom before they stumbled down the stairs, the effects of Johnny slowly taking their toll. Lots of people walked out with bags of food, taking the leftovers of the crab, lobster, soup and whatever else they could lay their hands on home. Taiwanese let nothing go to waste.

 

Shortly after this, Linn and I had our photos taken with brother and sister-in-law, and I could smell fresh air and freedom once more. I headed over to the Suzuki, tried to start it, still no luck, and jumped in to a cab to take me to the station.

 

The Red Lions lost 2-1.

 

Stinker.