We have finally been safely restored to the sanity, luxury and wifi wonderfulness of Bangkok.  Phew.  Being in Burma and trying to get online was like ye olden days of Amstrad computers and dial up modems, plus a lot of sites were just plain blocked.  Weirdly I could occasionally log on to Facebook, but no such luck buying capitalist propaganda on amazon, or kitschy tat on eBay.  Both sites were consistently blocked.

The last few days in Burma we spent on a beach resort, which we probably didn't appreciate as much as we could have due to Brian's illnesses resulting in him spluttering, sneezing, shivering and hobbling his way from bed to beach and back again, mostly with a very woeful expression on his pallid little face.  My sympathies have been stretched to such a limit that if they were an elastic band I'm not sure they would ever have quite the same bounce and pinginess ever again.  I need a holiday.

Some good news though, the Splinter appears to have gone on its merry way.  Let's hope its not travelling around his body, a thorn of mass destruction intent on further damage.  Err, perhaps best not to mention this scenario to him though, should you bump into him in the next few days.  And please, no mention of lockjaw, BeriBeri or dengue fever.

His absence has allowed me a few days of unfettered sunbathing, cocktail drinking and shopping though so, you know, silver lining etc.

The beach at Ngwe Saung is fabulous,  a long stretch of pristine golden sand, clear blue sea and hardly a soul about; apart from the occasional woman under a parasol selling coconuts we had the beach to ourselves.  Oh yes and the teenage boys who would come down at sunset to ride their motorbikes along the tideline, overtaking the odd buffalo driven cart that was also using the beach super-highway for purposes we never fathomed.  Like the rest of Burma though they're just getting ready for the vast hordes of tourists who are soon going to be flooding into the country as the sanctions are lifted.  

The tiny village is just a handful of restaurants and shops mostly selling a million and one things you never thought you'd need, cunningly crafted out of hundreds of strung together shells.  The road is unpaved and dusty and there is no electricity apart from for four hours a day when the generator is turned on.   Families sit at the edge of the road eating, chatting and watching their children roll in the dust or chase a friendly dog.   Most of the locals throughout Burma wear daubs of magnolia coloured paste on their faces called Thanakha, to protect them from sunburn.  Sometimes they just swirl it on randomly, sometimes they make it into the shape of leaves or flowers.  It looked weird at first, but we are sort of used to it now.  Not that we are buying any for use during the long hot days of a Brighton summer.  We'd just look like soap dodgers.

There have been definite signs of the relaxation of the military crackdown on supporters of Aung San Suu Kyi and her party, the National League for Democracy.  It is no longer illegal to display photos of her (and whilst they do not proliferate we have seen posters and a couple of t-shirts bearing her image).  On the whole there is an air of cautious optimism.  Three or four times during our visit we saw trucks laden with joyous, whooping NLD members waving yellow sashes and driving up and down the street tooting their horns and blaring out (I guess) messages of party solidarity.  It's a great sign and an uplifting ray of hope for this beautiful but beleaguered country.  Long may it continue.

Meanwhile, back in Bangkok we leave today for our final journey home to the cold windswept shores of England.  On the day we got here from Burma the Iranian bombers, who had been lurking in the suburbs of Bangkok, finally struck, blowing the legs off one of them as the others unsuccessfully attempted their getaway in a taxi.  It would be funny if it wasn't so tragic.  The fears that had formed the headlines we had successfully suppressed from Brian's mother during her stay have finally been realised.  Apparently the country is still on high alert and the airports are the suspected next target, ooeer.  Time to leave.  

But wait, via the airport?  Must we?

England.  Are you ready for us?