to have to tackle the last part of the tour without a scrap of printed matter to hide behind. I glanced around me, my heartbeat had accelerated, the outside world suddenly seemed a whole lot closer. On the other side of the aisle, Valerie had reclined her seat; she seemed to be daydreaming or sleeping, her face was turned toward the window. I tried to follow her example. Outside the landscape unfolded, made up of diverse vegetation. In desperation, I borrowed Rene's Michelin Guide; I thus learned that rubber plantations and latex played a key role in the economy of the region: Thailand is the third largest rubber producer in the world. That muddle of vegetation, then, served to make condoms and tyres; human ingenuity was truly remarkable. Mankind can be criticised from a variety of standpoints, but that' one thing you can't take away from him: we' unquestionably dealing with an ingenious mammal.
Since the evening at the River Kwai, the seating at table had become definitive. Valerie had joined what she call the 'yob camp'. Josiane had thrown her lot in with the naturopaths, with whom she shared certain values — such as techniques for promoting calm. At breakfast, I was able to observe from a distance a veritable calm competition between Albert and Josiane, under the watchful eyes of the ecologists - who, living in their godforsaken hole in Franche-Comte, obviously had access to fewer techniques. Babette and Lea, though they were from the Ile-de-France, didn't have much to say for themselves other than an occasional: 'That's cool . . .' calm was still a medium-term goal for them. All in all, they had a well balanced table, equipped with a natural leader of each sex, capable of fostering team spirit. On our side, things had a bit more trouble gelling. Josette and Rene regularly provided a commentary on the menu; they had become very familiar with the local food, Josette even intended to take home some recipes. From time to time they carped about the people at the other table, whom they considered to be pretentious, and poseurs; that wasn't going to get us very far, and I was usually impatient for the dessert to arrive.
I gave Rene his Michelin Guide back; Phuket was still a four-hour drive away. At the restaurant bar, I bought a bottle of Mekong. I spent the next four hours fighting back the feeling of shame that was stopping me from taking it out of my bag and quietly getting rat-arsed; shame won out in the end. The entrance to the Beach Resortel was decorated with a banner which read: Welcome to the Firemen of chazay. 'Now that's funny,' said Josette, 'Chazay - that's where your sister lives . . .' Rene couldn't remember. 'It is, it is . . .' she insisted. Before I got my room-key, I just had time to hear her say: 'So, that crossing the isthmus of Kra thing was just a day wasted'; and the worst thing was, she was right. I threw myself on to the king-size bed and took a long swig of alcohol; and then another.
I woke up with an appalling headache and spent quite a while throwing up into the toilet bowl. It was five in the morning: too late for the hostess bars, too early for breakfast. In the drawer of the bedside table there was Bible and a copy of the teachings of the Buddha, both in English. 'Because of their ignorance,' I read, 'people are always thinking wrong thoughts and always losing their viewpoint and, clinging to their egos, they take wrong actions. As a result, they become attached to a delusive existence.' I wasn't really sure that I understood, but the last sentence perfectly described my current state; I was sufficiently relieved that I was able to wait until breakfast time. At the next table there was a group of gigantic black Americans that could easily have been mistaken for a basketball team. Further along there was a table of Hong Kong Chinese - recognisable by their filthy manners, which are difficult for Westerners to stomach, and which threw the Thai waiters into a state of panic, barely eased by the
Since the evening at the River Kwai, the seating at table had become definitive. Valerie had joined what she call the 'yob camp'. Josiane had thrown her lot in with the naturopaths, with whom she shared certain values — such as techniques for promoting calm. At breakfast, I was able to observe from a distance a veritable calm competition between Albert and Josiane, under the watchful eyes of the ecologists - who, living in their godforsaken hole in Franche-Comte, obviously had access to fewer techniques. Babette and Lea, though they were from the Ile-de-France, didn't have much to say for themselves other than an occasional: 'That's cool . . .' calm was still a medium-term goal for them. All in all, they had a well balanced table, equipped with a natural leader of each sex, capable of fostering team spirit. On our side, things had a bit more trouble gelling. Josette and Rene regularly provided a commentary on the menu; they had become very familiar with the local food, Josette even intended to take home some recipes. From time to time they carped about the people at the other table, whom they considered to be pretentious, and poseurs; that wasn't going to get us very far, and I was usually impatient for the dessert to arrive.
I gave Rene his Michelin Guide back; Phuket was still a four-hour drive away. At the restaurant bar, I bought a bottle of Mekong. I spent the next four hours fighting back the feeling of shame that was stopping me from taking it out of my bag and quietly getting rat-arsed; shame won out in the end. The entrance to the Beach Resortel was decorated with a banner which read: Welcome to the Firemen of chazay. 'Now that's funny,' said Josette, 'Chazay - that's where your sister lives . . .' Rene couldn't remember. 'It is, it is . . .' she insisted. Before I got my room-key, I just had time to hear her say: 'So, that crossing the isthmus of Kra thing was just a day wasted'; and the worst thing was, she was right. I threw myself on to the king-size bed and took a long swig of alcohol; and then another.
I woke up with an appalling headache and spent quite a while throwing up into the toilet bowl. It was five in the morning: too late for the hostess bars, too early for breakfast. In the drawer of the bedside table there was Bible and a copy of the teachings of the Buddha, both in English. 'Because of their ignorance,' I read, 'people are always thinking wrong thoughts and always losing their viewpoint and, clinging to their egos, they take wrong actions. As a result, they become attached to a delusive existence.' I wasn't really sure that I understood, but the last sentence perfectly described my current state; I was sufficiently relieved that I was able to wait until breakfast time. At the next table there was a group of gigantic black Americans that could easily have been mistaken for a basketball team. Further along there was a table of Hong Kong Chinese - recognisable by their filthy manners, which are difficult for Westerners to stomach, and which threw the Thai waiters into a state of panic, barely eased by the
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