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The following day, put off by the traffic and familiarity, we elected not to go back to Bangkok but to try a guided excursion - still involving a long bus trip - to the town of Na Mueang, Chachoengsao and enviros.

Na Mueang offers a temple complex on the Bang Pakong river. And a visit and an historic marketplace, complete with an ethnic dance performance. The excursion included lunch at a nearby resort and an extended temple visit where the faithful apply litte squares metallic leaf to dozens of Buddas for good luck. Like Portia's suitor in The Merchant of Venice, I was disappointed to learn that "All that glisters is not gold". 

Gold leaf is not particularly expensive, surely the faithful could afford the real thing?  But I suppose that, after many accretions of real gold, the Buddas would gradually become rather too attractive to thieves. So it's an alloy of bronze. Even then, they are periodically stripped for the metal. Alternatively, or in addition, one can add to one's good luck by contributing a donation to the monks, worthy of a special blessing. I'm often amazed by the implausible ideas whole groups of people believe; and weave their lives around. 

Finally, we were taken to an even older market, on the river, that doubles as the homes of the stall holders.

 

 

 

 

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Travel

Burma (Myanmar)

 

This is a fascinating country in all sorts of ways and seems to be most popular with European and Japanese tourists, some Australians of course, but they are everywhere.

Since childhood Burma has been a romantic and exotic place for me.  It was impossible to grow up in the Australia of the 1950’s and not be familiar with that great Australian bass-baritone Peter Dawson’s rendition of Rudyard Kipling’s 'On the Road to Mandalay' recorded two decades or so earlier:  

Come you back to Mandalay
Where the old flotilla lay
Can't you hear their paddles chunking
From Rangoon to Mandalay

On the road to Mandalay
Where the flying fishes play
And the Dawn comes up like thunder
out of China 'cross the bay

The song went Worldwide in 1958 when Frank Sinatra covered it with a jazz orchestration, and ‘a Burma girl’ got changed to ‘a Burma broad’; ‘a man’ to ‘a cat’; and ‘temple bells’ to ‘crazy bells’.  

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Fiction, Recollections & News

The Soul of the Matter

 

 

 

 

It was hot, dry and dusty when they finally arrived in Jaisalmer.  But then, how often is it not hot and dusty here? 

In the markets a wizened woman, of indeterminate age, is using a straw broom to aggressively sweep the area in front of her shop. The dust will soon be kicked-back by passers-by; or swept back by her neighbours; requiring her to sweep again, and again.  She will do the same again tomorrow; and the day after; and the day after that.

Jennifer's mind is elsewhere. She's has dreamt of visiting exotic India ever since a client at the hairdressers told her, with enthralling details, of her adventures here.

They've arrived in the dusty city late in the afternoon, by road from Jodhpur.  In spite of his preference to visit California or Las Vegas again, she's finally persuaded Bruce that he might like India. He should try something a bit more adventurous for a change.

Below the entrance to the famous Jaisalmer Fort, is a small square that marks the start of the road winding up, then turning at right-angles, through the protective elephant-proof gates.  In this little square, motorised trishaws: Tuk-tuks, jostle restlessly like milling cattle.  They are waiting for tourists, like our travellers, who may hire them tomorrow to see the town or, if they are lazy or tired, just to mount the steep hill up to the Fort. 

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Opinions and Philosophy

Gaia - Climate Speculations

 

 

 

 

Our recent trip to Central Australia involved a long walk around a rock and some even longer contemplative drives.

I found myself wondering if there is more or less 'life' out here than there is in the more obviously verdant countryside to the north south east or west. For example: might microbes be more abundant here?  The flies are certainly doing well. Yet probably not.

This led me to recall James Lovelock's Gaia Hypothesis that gave we readers of New Scientist something to think about back in 1975, long before climate change was a matter of general public concern.

 

Read more: Gaia - Climate Speculations

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