Nookie is good, but a foot massage is best

I was this close to proposing. Really I was. I didn't care that she was fat and old and her elbow was the size of my head. It's not about what's on the outside after all, because frequently the outside is a disguise, a lie even, no matter how shaggable. That fat old Thai lady knew how to massage a foot like no one's business, and as I chilled out on a comfy chair on that street corner, with a pillow behind my head whilst watching the bustling Sunday street market in Chang Mai, I realised that you shouldn't judge a person on what they look like, nor on if they can speak English, nor on a romantically charged shared history full of turbulence and ups and downs, nor on the size of their elbows, because what truly matters in a person is how well they can massage your feet. This is a lesson we would all do well to remember.

Also it's important to try new things. Like deep fried cockroaches, which don't taste like chicken, but instead taste like the shell of a prawn, or frog and chili stir fry, which does taste like chicken stirfried with chili, except with more bones. I never pictured frogs to have bones, but I suppose if they didn't they'd be worms or possibly snakes or else very unstable life forms that wobble a lot and can't hop.

Although I have a suspicion we're staying in the 'uncool' area of Chang Mai, and not by the river where I suspect the party is. No all we got is terribly old and impressive temples full of giant gold Buddhas who are stern looking and have gone on diet, and don't have fat bellies and certainly aren't laughing, but look a little like a slightly stoned assassin, vaugely out of it, fully confident, and potentially dangerous with a sword.

So far Thailand's alright.