In my spanking new outfit and nothing short of awe struck, I took a taxi to a recommended (decent and fairly priced) hotel on Suriwongse Rd. in beautiful downtown Bangkok.
My arrival day-no, make that time-marked the end of my fear of flying. That phobia was immediately replaced by my fear of driving. I mean 1987 in a Thai taxi, jeez. It was sort of mobile, I mean we proceeded with bad brakes, bald tires and goodness knows what other ailments, at a speed that could only be described as death defying. Believe me, I was grateful for the frequent traffic jams.
Ah the good ole days of the fear of flying.
Anyway upon arrival at my hotel (yes I forget the name) in Bangkok I wandered down by the riverside. Foreigners were relatively rare back then. Thais used to and still do refer to us as “farangs”. I can still see kids in TUK TUKS making round signs with their fingers. Referring to, I assume, good ole “round eyes”.  TUK TUKS by the way are three wheeled, highly dangerous, motorized go-carts. Then they were used primarily as transportation. Nowadays they are used primarily to fleece farangs.

Anyway, back to the riverside; the side of Bangkok’s Chao Phayra River, or, in English, the “River of Kings”
It was there I had my first-but not my last-glimpse of Thailand’s truly and still ubiquitous, poor. Sheet; and I thought I had it rough with my Cape Breton upbringing. Anyway there was this girl whose job, dare I say calling, was-washing brin bags. Only trouble was, this young lady would wash and fold the bags in the river whilst she was standing waist deep in it. Even then, back in 87’ I guessed it was highly polluted. How many Stang (Thai pennies) did she earn for each clean bag? What was the going rate?
Today the banks of the Chao Phayra are dotted with world-class hotels. I mean who amongst you has not heard of the Oriental? Also one can see the Shangri-La. the Marriott, the Peninsula and many more truly recognizable hotel names. In fact first class hotels seem to open annually and up-market apartments mostly separate these. Both, of course, are reserved for and targeted towards farangs and the Thai rich and famous. Ah, how the mighty have risen.
There is at least one major shopping center on the riverbank and of course there are plenty of restaurants. These take the form of hotel restaurants, riverside restaurants both cheap and expensive and restaurant boats that ply their trade up and down the river.
Anyway I saw a lot of Bangkok in those first days. I made lasting friends and got drunk in Pat Pong, (another story), and even rode in the dreaded TUK TUK. I got around; came, saw and continued to get drunk. Lemme outa here! This could be habit forming. Wait a minnit; I’m still here in 2009. Hell this is habit forming.
Anyhoo back to the original point to this story; that as I recall was my arrival in Bangkok, Thailand.
The whole idea as I remembered was white-capped beaches, great restaurants, and great beauty of all sorts. Phuket beckoned.
Aha, but before that I had to conquer my fear of another taxi ride to Don Maung airport. Jeez I was terrified. Anyway, as you see I am still alive and well twenty-two years later, you can deduce that I made it. Once again I chose Thai Airways; at this point the only game in town when choosing to fly from Bangkok to Phuket, Thailand’s stunning and world famous Island.
It took only fifty-five minutes flying time to reach Phuket so I settled down to a quick and pleasant non-fear flight. To pass the time and to learn more about by soon to be adopted homeland, (I swear I didn’t know it then) I picked up the in-flight magazine. That simple act turned out to be an event that changed my life. I, like so may others before me, was soon to discover how cheap and how easy it was to produce and then later print in Thailand.
The magazine photos were a revelation. Those in the Thai Airways journal were nothing short of dazzling. Clear and sharp, they showed off the beauty of the Thai countryside. The photos were splendidly reproduced and those portrayed in the magazine pages clearly enticed the reader.

As publisher of Euro Ski Magazine, I was hooked.
Now comes the rest of the story.
The plane duly landed in Phuket and I got off and went…straight to the pay telephone. There were none or very few mobiles in those days dude.
I called 71 Film, the makers of the beautiful color photos and, with some difficulty made an appointment for the following day. Yes Virginia, I did say the following day.
I booked a ticket and got right back on the same Thai Airways flight for the trip back to Bangkok. As luck would have it, 71 Film and the boss, Khun (Mr) Preeda, were located within walking distance from the hotel I stayed at just that morning. Hah! The folks at the hotel were delighted to see me again. Or not.
Anyway, bright and early the next day, and still in my all-white garb of shorts, sneakers and you know the rest, I proceeded to walk to 71 Film. Khun Preeda is still counted amongst my friends, even though we have switched to Internet now and no longer use their services.
So, I stroll into the offices of 71 Film at the due time and present myself to the receptionist who looks me up and down. Obviously I must be delivering Ice Cream or something.
”Yes” she inquires.
”I have an appointment with Mister Preeda” came my reply.
Little did I know that at that time mobile telephones were not the only scarce means of communication. English was not used widely and most of this exchange was carried out in Thai. I, at that time possessed no Thai language skills, but picked some little bit up over the years.
”Khun Preeda there’s somebody here to see you,” she shouted to an office somewhere deep in the building’s bowels.
”Who is it” came the bellowed reply.
Once again the young lady looked me up and down. Her answer said it all regarding my business getup.
”I think it’s the John McEnroe” she yelled in perfect English.