Funny thing - while promoting my Top Travel Memories Contest, I accidentally discovered that my long lost cousin (and his wife) from San Diego are traveling to Thailand tomorrow for vacation. Harry is his name by the way.

Now if you have been following Calypso Island Chronicles, you may be aware that I will be returning to Thailand one week from now. Now I haven’t seen my cousin Harry in over 30 years. What are the odds that I will bump into him somewhere in Thailand? Kind of remote! I probably wouldn’t recognize him anyhow even if he were standing right in front of me, but wouldn’t it be something if I ran into him and his wife while strolling through the night bazaar in Chiang Mai (tourist hub of Northern Thailand) or while having dinner at the popular Whole Earth Restaurant? Stranger things have happened. LOL! In any case, I’ll have to send good ole Harry an e-mail right about now!

Not too long ago, one of Thailand’s preeminent fortune tellers/psychics predicted that a catastrophic earthquake would devastate Central Thailand sometime in October. If you live in the ‘Land of Smiles’, there are exactly 16 more days left in this month – and to be realistic, the odds of this cataclysmic event happening gets closer to infinity every day. Now I am going to present to you somewhat of a preposterous ‘what if scenario’ – sort of an apocalyptic (end of the world) spin to this.

If you have been following Thai politics, you know that there has been ongoing battle between the ruling PPP party - which many people claim is a proxy government of exiled ruler Thaksin Shinawatra (Mr Toxin for short) - and the PAD, an anti government group comprised primarily of liberal democrats and royalists, whose supporters are primarily Bangkok’s upper middle and upper classes. Now depending on which side of the fence you’re on, the PPP and all the Toxin cronies are the bad guys and the PAD and their followers are the good guys. You’re probably wondering what does this have to do with the earthquake and my apocalyptic spin? Well if the big Quake happens, the ensuing flood caused by the collapse of the Kanchanaburi Dam would sweep all the Bad Guys off to sea, and ‘The Kingdom’ would usher in a new era of enlightened leadership.

HMM, you may think I am out of mind (maybe I am), but what does my little friend, “Batdog” say? See picture, top left. One paw up - that means it ain’t going to happen! Business as usual…

To cover all bases, I will be carrying my snorkeling gear with me on my upcoming trip to Thailand. Stay Tuned….

I happened to come across this hilarious political cartoon the other day - it pokes fun at the GOP team of McCain “the Caveman” and his running mate Palin “the Deer in the Headlights”. Check it out and have a good laugh!

You maybe wondering, what does this cartoon have to do with ecotourism, nature tours and travel to Thailand, Costa Rica, the Caribbean and other tropical locales? Hmm, let me think…it has absolutely nothing to do with TRAVEL!!!!!

A lot of people in Thailand (both rich and poor) believe in the ability of the Fortune teller to predict the future. In fact, I know professional people in Bangkok who pay a small sum of monies for a consultation with their local fortune teller or tarot card reader to give them guidance and direction with their love life and business affairs. Even political leaders have been known to consult with a fortune teller – ex P.M. Thaksin and the coup leaders who deposed his government are two prime examples. Usually, the fortune teller is a very insightful and intuitive person and is able to tell their customer what they want to hear. For some inexpensive entertainment and fun, a couple of years ago I paid 20 baht to have my fortune read by a local tarot card reader on the corner of Sukhumvit and Soi 24 in Bangkok.

Just recently, my friend in Thailand told me about a very dire prediction made by one of the most preeminent fortune tellers/psychics in Bangkok who coincidentally hosts his own TV show. Can you believe that? According to this highly regarded psychic, sometime in October, there will be a devastating earthquake in central Thailand - the earthquake will create a break in the Kanchanaburi Dam located about 90 minutes away from Thailand’s capital city of Bangkok, and the whole area will be flooded. Bangkok will be just one big lake! Furthermore this fortune teller suggests that people should evacuate Bangkok during the month of October and flee to Isaan or Northern Thailand.

His prediction is based on this season’s heavy rainfall which has caused many of the outlying provinces to be flooded. A big earthquake could indeed cause the dam to crack and release a tremendous volume of water flooding the plains of the central region of which Bangkok is the major population center. Even without an earthquake, many people fear the dam will overflow due to the huge volume of water that it is holding in.

Upon hearing this story, I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. I told her that I too believed a catastrophic earthquake would take place. But unlike the renowned fortune teller, I believe this event will take place sometime in the next 2000 years and that no one could predict the exact time. Furthermore, most likely both of us would be long dead and into our 37th reincarnation on our way to nirvana when the big flood happens.

On my upcoming trip to Thailand in November, I better bring my snorkeling gear.

******

The following story is based on events which happened in Negril, Jamaica in summer 1982. The names of people involved have not been changed protect the innocent or naïve. Although this happened over 26 years ago, I remember it as if it was yesterday. Depending on your sensibilities, you may alternately cry, laugh or be shocked by what I have to tell you.

It was a bright Sunday in Montego Bay - Reggae Sunsplash, Jamaica’s international music festival, had just concluded. Most of my tour group were flying home on this day, however about 30 clients would accompany me by bus to Negril, some 50 miles to the west, to recuperate and chill out after the festival. I stayed at Lamar’s, a humble motel on Negril’s West End. I befriended two of clients, Dr. D and his girlfriend, Carol, who were also staying at Lamar’s. Dr. D was an affable chap in his early 30’s, a Grateful Dead aficionado and we hit it off pretty well.

About the 2nd or 3rd day in Negril, Dr. D, Carol and yours truly were enjoying a cold Guinness in Lamar’s outdoor bar—café, when somebody offered us some freshly baked chocolate ganja cake. Now, I usually don’t partake in marijuana, but throwing caution to the wind, I decided to have to eat a large slice of this fragrant smelling cake. Dr. D and Carol followed suit. About 40 minutes later, it was getting dark and the three of us decided to venture out for dinner to nearby Pewee’s, a nice outdoor restaurant on the cliffs. So far, nobody was feeling any effect from the ganja. Dr. D and his ladyfriend ordered a grilled lobster plate and I ordered a vegetarian dish along with some cold Guinness. After awhile dinner was finally served. It seems that the three of us were getting quite giddy - must have been the marijuana kicking in. Dr. D was about to take a bite out of his lobster, when he announced, “Look, the Lobster is crawling on my plate”. Both Carol and I laughed, and I remarked it must be the effect of the ganja cake we ate earlier in the evening. Come to think of it, I distinctively remember it getting hotter and I felt a sensation of smoke in the air. We finished our dinner without further incident, laughing and joking the whole time.

After dinner, we walked up the street to Kaisers, where they were having a live Reggae Show. A group of young Jamaican men congregated at the entrance. We were about to enter the club and pay the cover charge, when Dr. D totally freaked out. He turned around to us and with a very frightened look on his face, he announced that he was afraid someone at the entrance was going to stab him with a knife. Looking at Carol, I told her that the ganja had caused Dr. D to become totally paranoid. Carol understood there was no real danger, only in Dr. D’s mind, but it was decided in the best interests of Dr. D, that she would return with him to Lamar’s and forego the live show.

Bidding Dr. D and Carol adieu, I paid the cover charge and entered the club. After having a rum punch, I surveyed the scene and noticed quite a few very attractive working gals around the club, looking very sexy with their micro miniskirts clinging tightly to their thighs. I was becoming very hot now and I started feeling “the body heat” from the Jamaican ladies. My heart was racing and it was becoming difficult for me to move - it felt like I was paralyzed. Feeling frightened and very vulnerable, it took quite an effort for me to leave Kaiser’s. Once I was out onto the street, I walked safely back to Lamar’s in the darkness of the night.

Morale of the story - Marijuana affects people in different ways. For some people, the herb will bring a sense of euphoria and peacefulness; for other people, it makes them get very giddy. On the other extreme, some people grow very paranoid - their feelings and sensations become overamplified. Be careful when indulging in this potent herb!!!

For a little diversion, you might want to check out Traveler IQ challenge, a very fun and quirky game on Trip Advisor’s website that tests your knowledge of world geography. Presented with a small world map, the game requires you to click with your computer mouse on the location of famous world cities and capitals. Having to navigate through twelve levels of difficulty from easy to very difficult, your cumulative score is based on both accuracy and speed of identification. I have played this game a number of times, and “the Great Ling Yai” got as far as Level 11 before he crapped out.

Playing this game on a laptop computer can be very frustrating, because the scroll mouse often has a mind of its own. While trying to click on the location of San Francisco, my mouse inadvertently clicks on somewhere out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Damn mouse! This is a great game to play when you’re flying on a plane somewhere overseas. Before I play again, I think I’m going to study an World Atlas so I can improve my geography knowledge. Hey….Where is exact location of Bishek, Kyrgyzstan anyhow? Must be somewhere near Pakistan, Afghanistan or one of those – xxxxxx stan countries, right? How about Alice Springs, Australia, anybody know?

I am guessing that many of you are familiar with the song “Horse without a name” as popularized by the rock group, America, in the early 1970s. Well, today I was taking a day excursion from the small Mexican Beach town of La Manzanilla to Tenacatita Beach, about 30 Kilometers to the north. When approaching a small roadside bridge, I saw a sign along the highway “El Puente sin Nombre” - in English that translates to Bridge without a name. In Mexico, all bridges along the highway have names but this one was nameless like the horse in the famous song. I made a remark in Spanish to the Taxi driver about this Bridge (and horse) without names and we shared a good laugh.

Dec. 23, 1995 Kumasi, Ghana A ladyfriend from Accra accompanied me to Kumasi, Ghana’s 2nd largest city of and spiritual home of the ancient Ashanti empire. Located in the hilly central region about 3 1/2 hours by car from the capital of Accra, Kumasi is now a thriving tourist mecca with a variety of attractions and places of historical interest. Note: The Ashanti King and his royal court still reside here. About a half hour drive from this royal city is Lake Bosumtwi, Ghana’s only natural lake. Surrounded by verdant green hills, this lake is home to several small fishing villages and is considered sacred by the Ashanti people. The lake is very important to the well being of these communities as it provides them with an abundance of fish. Understandably, fish is the staple of people’s diet and fishing is the primary source of income. Christianity and Western culture hasn’t had a tremendous impact here as the people maintain the ways of their Ashanti ancestors and they still pay homage to their African Gods.

Curious about the folklore and mythology of these fishing villages, my friend and I took a taxi to Bosumtwi where we hired a boat for a scenic tour of the lake. The Boat Captain, who was an Ashanti and lived in one of the lakeside villages, recited a very interesting story which was an integral part of Ashanti folklore.

At 16-year intervals, in order to ensure that the lake continues to be abundant with fish, it is customary that the Ashanti people of Bosumtwi district make a sacrificial offering of a human being to the God who resides in the lake. Traditionally, the local people would capture an outsider for this very important ritual as the Gods were most pleased if the sacrificial victim was of European ancestry, and would reward the small fishing villages as such with a superabundance of protein rich fish for the next 16 years.

I asked the boat captain nervously, exactly when does this sacrifice take place? Looking at me with cold steely black eyes, he said that the sacrifice must take place sometime before Christ’s birthday, in other words before Christmas. Hmm, upon hearing this, I gulped, lost all my color and turned a ghostly white. Today was Dec. 22, 1995 - nothing like being in the wrong place at the right time! I could see where this was going. Before I could blink an eye, the captain and my turncoat friend shoved me overboard into the lake. Although I am good swimmer, for some reason the water lacked any buoyancy as I felt myself being dragged below the surface by forces unseen. The rest is history – the local communities were blessed with another 16 years of tremendous fishing!

January 1996 Abidjan, Ivory Coast Dining at a restaurant in the Marcory district of Abidjan, I struck up a conversation with the young waitress who happened to speak passable English. I told the waitress whose name was Ann of my plans to go to the crafts market the following morning to buy some fabric and some indigenous crafts. As I was looking for somebody to help me with the shopping and act as a translator, I asked Ann if I could hire her to accompany me. She agreed to take the assignment.

The next morning, I hired a taxi and we went to the crafts market. After finishing my shopping, I wanted to cash some traveler’s checks so I asked Ann if she could take me to a place where I could get a good exchange rate. Nodding her head, Ann said no problem. So we hopped into a taxi, a short while later we arrived at our destination. Pulling up in front on a nondescript office, the taxi was instantly surrounded by at least 30 very animated young men who were jostling for position and chattering in languages that I didn’t understand. Some of them held wads of the local currency in their fists. I guess this was the black market welcoming committee.

To say the least, I was very alarmed and feared for my safety. Casting a nervous glance at Ann, I summoned up all the courage I had and opened the car door, got out and made a beeline for the door to the money exchange office, all the while pretending to ignore the bedlam surrounding me. Once inside the office, I breathed a deep sigh of relief and I proceeded to exchange my traveler’s checks. Funny thing - after leaving the office, the welcoming committee had disappeared. Maybe they found new fish to fry. I hopped into the waiting taxi and returned to my hotel safe and sound. What an adventure!

January 1996 Abidjan, Ivory Coast While having breakfast in the hotel’s dining room, I met this interesting English gentleman named Fred in his mid 50’s. After chatting with this bloke for a while, I find out he’s working in Africa as a civil servant for the British government. Stationed in the Ivory Coast for the last year, Fred had some very colorful stories to tell about his tours of duty all over Africa. Men being men, the conversation eventually drifted to ladies and where to find them. Living in Abidjan for awhile now, Fred seemed to be quite familiar with the turf and asked me if I wanted to accompany him for a night on the town. As I was game for some carousing, I tell Fred I’m good to go. So we make arrangements to go out later that evening

Stepping into a taxi, we headed towards Treichville, a popular tourist district. Shortly into the journey, we unexpectedly hear sirens. Looking into the rear view mirror, I see it’s the local Abidjan police. The taxi pulls over by the curb as the police get out their car and approach the taxi. Fred, sitting in the front seat, rolls down his window and asks the young police officer nonchalantly, what‘s up? For the next 15 minutes or so, Fred and the young cop are engaged in a heated conversation. I hear some mention of passport and papers, but I really don’t understand French. At some point, the cop motions to me sitting in the back seat and Fred says to him in clipped French, my friend is American.

After what seemed like an eternity, the police finally let us go along our merry way. Fred explained to me that the local police wanted to collect some money from him because he didn’t have his passport on his person. Just a couple of cops trying to pick up some spare change. Luckily he was able to bullshit his way out of the jam by telling them about his important assignment in Abidjan. The cops never talked directly with me – while I wasn’t carrying my passport with me, I did have a Xerox copy on my person. Fred and I laughed and continued to one of his favorite watering holes in Treichville. The rest of the night was without incident – downing a couple of Guinness, Fred and I chatted up some Nigerian tarts before returning to our hotel empty-handed.

Factoid: When you’re traveling to a foreign country, I recommend that you make a copy of your passport and carry it with you at all times. Store your passport in the hotel’s safe deposit box.