Just back from a six day practical examination out at sea, taking out a 34footer and cruising around a number of Thailand’s outlying islands, including Phi Phi, featured in the popular film “The Beach” starring Leonardo DiCaprio. The weather was fairly benign given this is the monsoon season, with low winds and only a couple of squalls to navigate – winds rising from 11 knots to about 35 with gusts of 45 just offshore from Ko Yai. Otherwise, a succession of navigation exercises and tests – such as finding the safe water mark to the channel at Krabi, without GPS but armed with good old fashioned charts, a compass rose and points, using calculated bearing points and transit lines, is technical, and additionally requires a close watch on transit points, such as islands passing each other at a precise timed rendezvous and so on. However, I was bang on in my calculations and the water mark was (nearly) where it was supposed to be. So I got a bullseye in over 100 sq. miles of Andaman Sea, but the mark was actually half a mile further north than positioned on the charts!  Such is navigation in non-commercial waters.

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Not just the title of an old song by samba crooner Michael Franks, but also a way of life in Thailand, and Phuket especially. Life here really does move at a slower pace, and there is more of an observance of nature, which still rules supreme over man in these parts. The Weather dominates, and from scatter gun showers to fierce sun, to rip tides and fast running beaches, you need to be a little more on alert than in city dwelling. It’s simplicity too – want to eat, just reach out and grab any of a selection of South-East Asia’s amazing fruits – Durian are in season now, Rambutans are plump and fresh, and the Mangosteens sublime. A huge bag of all of them are just USD5, and is breakfast for several days.

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Well, I got lucky the past week, but yesterday the Monsoon, which I wrote about hitting the West Indian coast of Kerala nearly four weeks ago on my 2point6billion business Asia blog, has now reached the West coast of Thailand from the Bay of Bengal, and it’s giving us fairly intensive rain showers for 20-30 minutes every couple of hours. It’ll stay this way now for the next 4-6 weeks, which is why June & July are low season for Thailand’s tourists.

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The first mini-voyage of my advanced ocean skippers course sees me take a 32ft yacht out from Yacht haven, around Ko Yao Yai to the south, anchoring overnight at Ao Muang having first sailed of a southerly, northerly, and north-easterly course around various smaller islands before dropping down in the Ao Muang bay. The weather is good, but not that breezy, I find the wind gets sheltered and diverted from islands en route, and speeds of about 2-3 knots only are common for part of the route. The second day however is more fun, sailing south down Ko Yao Yai, stopping over at an idillyic small island Ko Hong to practice mooring. The waters are crystal clear, and as we secure the mooring, what can only be described as a hermit wanders up the beach opposite to eyeball us, sitting in the shade. Binoculars reveal a makeshift camp under some bushes, before we sail on, rounding Ko Yao Yai at about lunchtime. The wind immediately improves, and is much more fun, the yacht nipping along at @5-6knots as the Westerlies buffet us somewhat about a mile or two off the Western Ko Yao Yai shore. The bow digs in a couple of times, and the yacht is almost permanently at a 40 degree angle as the wind rips into the main sheet. However, it’s also pushing us to land, so progress is slow, although we eventually make anchor on the east coast of Ko Nakha Yai at about 5pm, more of less on time.

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This past week, and for the next two, I have gone to what amounts to a Maritime University – to sit both theory and practical exams for qualifications to Advanced Skipper on Ocean-going yachts. I’m based at Yacht Haven in Phuket, a quiet spot, yet home to a variety of craft – catamarans, cruisers and so on, but most of my time is spent on 32 and 34ft yachts. So far I haven’t managed to sink any of them, and my man-overboard techniques seem to be intact and responsive. Navigation too, and chart plotting remain good – at least in theory, but the drudgery of reefing, and hauling jib and main sheets up and down again not only plays havoc with my complaining muscles, but also my hands, which are blistered, and in one or two places, raw. Gloves are an essential, and no yachtsman ever wins beautiful hands competitions.

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It’s been awhile since I’ve been in Bangkok, and despite the recent political turmoil the city – and country – seem to have a remarkable resilience. Often referred to as the ‘city of smiles’, returning here for the first time in five years does not disappoint. Fortunately my travel agent, the wonderful Rebecca, based in the Asian hub that is Hong Kong (I’ve never met her, but she deals with all my travel arrangements online and via phone wherever I am globally) has booked me into La Bua – the State Tower. The rooms are superb, of course, and Thailand is one of the growing number of Asian countries that really does service (something China especially sadly lacks in their pursuit of dollar at all costs) – I am greeted everywhere by hands held in prayer and the ubiquitous Thai greeting “Sawadee Khap”. Great as La Bua is, the rooms and service are not the main reason to be here. That prize belongs to the Sky Bar – lavished, open air, across the entire 65th floor, it is, I believe, the highest open air bar in the world.

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I’ve been in Kenya, near to Lake Baringo, the past week to participate in the annual Rhino Charge which takes place each year at different locations throuighout the country. Theevent, now in it’s 21st year, is designed to raise money to build a 400km fence in the Aberdare Conservation area – to keep Rhino and other animals in, and poachers and encroaching tribes out. THis years event marked the completion of enough funds to complete the fence. Vehicles – mainly Land Rovers, Land Cruisers and Unimogs, compete over a gruelling course, comprising 13 stations. Each team must visit all stations over a period of eight hours, in the shortest possible distance. Terrain ranges from teetering alongside 400 foot drops, to clambering and winching over huge boulders, to crashing through the bush.

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One of the great things about traveling is to sample the regional cuisine, and then, for a bit of fun, (and a bit of a hit or miss affair) occasionally sample the local take on another cultures food. With that in mind I was taken to one of the best Muslim restaurants in Bombay, the Delhi Durval, just opposite the Leopold’s Café. Apart from having a great menu, its also culturally interesting – entire Muslim families, old men with beards dyed bright orange, and where you get to see how a woman clad from head to toe in hijab, gets to eat. All that aside, the quality of the local menu is superb – plenty of lamb of course, but no pork and no alcohol. Feeling adventurous, we tucked into the sheep brains masala (the brains were creamy and tasted a little like cottage cheese) and the lamb’s trotters. Thinking about the latter, as little trotters were served in a delicious, tangy sauce with tomato and coriander, this must be a dish for the wealthy. Lambs grow up into sheep, and are productive in wool and dairy products, eating them therefore is the height of decadence. There’s not much meat on a lamb’s trotter, mainly a bit of skin and gelatine (which is fine) but the delight is saved for last – the age old ritual of bone marrow sucking. It all felt rather Biblical, and I’m sure tales of marrow munching occur in the Koran as well. Abraham would have recognized the ritual. Then, full of Islamic sheep, I spotted the restaurants alternative menu – and it was Chinese. I took a good look to ascertain the authenticity, and actually, the internationally traveled “vegetable spring rolls” were all present and correct, as were “Sliced Chicken in Schezwan Sauce”, “Chicken Lung Fung Soup” and Vegetable, Mushroom and Bamboo Shoots”. But even these, apparently standard Chinese dishes reveal both the complexity of China, and of China’s perception by the rest of the world, and old habits die hard. Chinese restaurants will note “Sichuan” Sauce, not “Schezwan”, the latter being based on the Wade-Giles system of romanization of Chinese characters invented in 1892, pre-dating the current pinyin system which was actually adopted by the Chinese government in 1952. Overseas Chinese restaurants still often (and charmingly in my view) use the Wade-Giles system, demonstrating that old habits die hard – it is more than 50 years out of date, and demonstrates just how old the Chinese overseas diaspora – most of whom still use Wade-Giles – is. Then, “Lung Fung” is Cantonese, from Hong Kong, basically translating as “Wind of Dragon”. Quite what effect that would have as a soup on ones digestive system I cannot imagine. The menu goes on to specify “Vegetable Hakka Chow Mein” – with the Hakka being a Southern Chinese people, inhabiting the coasts of Fujian and Guangdong, and “Chicken Manchow” – a reference to the Manchu, who were the ruling class in China until 1912. The Chinese menu therefore, has become a sort of time capsule in which both language and food have been handed down as they were from 50 —100 years ago. That’s quite impressive, and makes the menu itself rather enjoyable.

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Today (May 8th) is my birthday, so what better subject to provide to recognize that than a bottle of French wine? No ordinary wine either – I discovered it at the ridiculous price of USD8 in a local store in Beijing, which pleased me no end, and noticed the “Depuis 1531” slogan on it. Since 1531? Wow. Interest piqued and taste buds at the ready, I both opened the bottle – it’s certainly a productive cork that zooms out – and imbibed. Pears, mainly, but creamy and naturally sparkling. Definitely worth eight bucks. It turns out that Bulle de Blanquette has been made in the region of Limoux in Central France since 1531, with the Monks of St. Hilaire being responsible. They invented the process, some 150 years before Champagne was recorded. It’s also interesting to note that Dom Perignon, an esteemed Monk himself, stayed in the region before leaving to travel to Epernay and begin making methode champenoise there. It was the St. Hilaire Monks who first tied corks to the bottles to prevent the bubbles exploding, and they still follow tradition and bottle at the time of the full moon in March ready for the warmer weather to start the secondary fermentation that produces les bulles (the bubbles). All the grapes for Blanquette have to be harvested by hand into small boxes to prevent bruising, and the regulations also limit the yield to ensure a quality product. Growers who can produce and market Blanquette are limited to a set area of 41 villages around the 2000 year old town of Limoux.
Many producers follow an organic code for growing the Blanquette grape which is also known as Mauzac.

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Back to Beijing, and a beautiful Spring. With the Olympics restraints on traffic and pollution still in place, the city now has more blue skies, and can be revealed for what it used to look like many years ago – big skies, especially around Tiananmen Square, which has been spared the onset of High-rise development that has appeared in the East. No building here is more than three stories high, and from Tiananmen Gate, where Mao proclaimed the “standing up” of the Chinese people in 1949, one can see again, large blue vistas which betray the cities Mongolian origins.

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