… Or maybe not? Maybe I had planned it all along.

Either way, after a brilliantly shocking (and shockingly brilliant) decision made on Sunday I have resigned and look forward to long, blissful months of unemployment and adventure on Asia's highways and byways. Now the haze has cleared the day looks sunny, and in retrospect it was the obvious decision.

As the decision is clear, the plans are beautifully vague. I have a bit of money, a motorbike, a flight booked to Nepal in September, some mates coming out in October and five month's worth of blanks to be filled in. I want to get involved with Myanmar (Burma), Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos- the random countries off the beaten track. After a year of living in the region, mainstream Asia, nightlife and even beautiful beaches don't appeal so much. I also want to write something about the whole affair, so let me know if you have any suggestions. Should I try a series of articles about whatever I come across, or shoot for the big'un- a whole book?

In other news I have just had a successful audition to play the extra's part of a jockey on a cheesy Singaporean TV programme. Feel free to take the piss!

Summary:

..[if !supportLists]-->·        ..[endif]-->I've resigned.

Just a quickie with the UK, a wedding, Glastonbury, Sweden and general updates to cover? Well, I'll try…

Arriving back to a grimy Heathrow in a damp, chilly summer's dawn what stood out in my mind was the way that the crippled UK still felt like home. For all its apparent dreariness to Singapore's flash I still love the old place, and I was straight into the thick of UK life with a wedding to attend 10 hours after touchdown. Karate Chris (my housemate at uni) tied the knot up in Oxford with his lovely (but understandably nervous looking!) fiancé that afternoon. I was expecting to be more freaked out by the occasion of my first mate getting married than I was- in the event it was a sweet, low-key affair, thoroughly enjoyed by everyone, and just another nutty twist in Chris' ever lengthening list. Congratulations guys!

After practising jetlag-induced 'Practical Narcolepsy 101', and checking out my parents' awesome new pad overlooking the sea (and a soon to be constructed surf-boosting reef) in Bournemouth it was time to switch scenes again- for Sweden.

'Now, why might Mark be going to Sweden?' you may be wondering, if you've been ignoring me for the past 6 years. Otherwise you'll know exactly why. It was brilliant to see the girl again; she's more gorgeous than ever, with Egyptian-sun bleached eyes and hair set against a sister's tan, and she's still sparky, cool, ballsy, caring and fun. The only weird part was the lack of weirdness. Within five minutes it was as if the whole of the last two and a half years had been pulled together, folded up and stitched away. Sure, we've both grown up a lot and are more comfortable with ourselves and each other, but basically we're still the same and I still think she's fantastic. Ahhh… When I'm reading my telegram from King William many years hence I'm going to look back with rose tinted glasses on my 'youth' and think of those days- strolling by beautiful lakes in endless Scandinavian-summer sunsets, hand in hand with Annika, without much of a care about anything.

So, with my Swedish trip a resounding success I moved on to 2007's Glastonbury Festival. The highlight was definitely spending good time with good people; it was magic to meet up with so many I had last seen 725 days before on exactly the same patch of the world. Once again the two years only seemed to count as fodder for stories; all our individual activities seemed surreal in that historical setting- trippy, but no surprise by now as it keeps on happening this way. Lowlights were the mud, rain, mud, feeble 'amplification' (I felt like asking those around me to be quiet so I could hear the band), mud, and, in retrospect, not drinking. It seems there's a time and a place for everything; and a festival is both for getting hammered.

A few fleeting days later I was back in Singapore settling back into my quiet country routine of exercise, meditation, socialising and occasional work. Motivation for work is rock bottom. In theory I still love the job- helping interesting people sort out their finances- but the reality of everything taking forever to come to fruition, or just rotting on the vine, means that nothing work related excites me any more. Even if I meet a great prospect, he likes what he sees, he wants to do some business and he actually does the business it still sometimes doesn't go through for various reasons and I get squat. In some ways it's harder now than at the beginning since I feel I'm actually quite good but still things aren't working out. I just don't think I've got the enthusiasm to counteract so many setbacks when there are so many other things I could be trying.

The meditation/non-drinking/no meat/exercise combo is still continuing and I'm still feeling good for it. I rarely get the chance to do two full hours in a day but I have noticed a definite correlation between how much meditation I get done and how well my day goes. Somehow it can turn an ordinary day into a blinder- strange stuff. I've also found that if I go a few days without doing any I start slipping back into old ways, which is comforting since it makes me feel I'm in control of any altered attitude and could pack it in and go back to 'normal' if I chose to. But an acceptance of change, craving and aversion is excellent to stay practised at- plenty of the stuff always seems to rear up!

Summary:

• Chris got married
• Great trip to see Annika in Sweden
• A wet Glastonbury

…gonna eat me alotta peaches, as The Presidents of the USA would say. A lot has 'changed' since the course, true to form, but the biggest has been this move. Everything seems to be coming up roses though so I'm perfectly happy to roll with it...:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

While I was in Bali I got a text from my landlord notifying me that I had 25 days to pack my stuff and get out since my condo had been sold. This was a right bugger; particularly in light of the fact I was going to spend the next 14 days out of the loop. Those who have visited will know that while the condo itself was nothing to write home about (especially since it's become crammed with hookers and lady boys) the location and pool were great and I had got my enormous 18^th floor room overlooking the city just the way I wanted it during the 18 months I had been there. That combined with rents nearly doubling here since then and the need to sort out and shift my accumulated 'stuff' meant I was not a happy bunny when I was evicted. After the course, in the spirit of equanimity and understanding that it was just another inevitable change, I felt much happier about it- no big deal. And it just so happened that as I was mentioning my predicament to a good friend that he exclaimed that a good friend of his, who I vaguely knew already, was looking for someone to rent a room in her house. First points right here- no need to search, no need to mess around with agents and pay them and crucially the word 'house'. Houses don't happen much in Singapore- people either live in condos if they're rich (apartments with hotel-like facilities) or glorified council flats if they're not. Houses are posh. The one downside is it's in the countryside (again, rare in Singapore) but it's still only about 20 mins ride from the centre and so with my bike it's not such a big problem and the location means the rent is as cheap as chips.

And when I say countryside I mean I'm looking out of the window behind my laptop now and can see tropical rainforest type trees in the nature reserve 20m away. 'Nature' is everywhere- from the 10 cats in the house to the dozens of monkeys that visit daily (Al- you'd wet yourself) to enormous snakes that thankfully only visit occasionally. The reserve behind the house is home to Singapore's tallest 'peak' (ha- it's tiny but good for running up and down) and a brilliant purpose made mountain bike trail (that I spent three hours on this morning- I'm knackered!) It's so peaceful I really don't feel I'm in Singapore at all and can already feel my mindset shifting and slowing down. The house is enormous (5 bedrooms on 3 stories), is beautifully furnished by a shopoholic, has the coveted LCD TV and surround sound, covered parking for my bike and only the two of us and the maid live here.

Oh yes- the maid! I thought having a full-time maid would be a bit strange and take a lot of getting used to but sadly I'm used to it already and am now spoilt beyond redemption.  As I moved in I was offered a glass of iced water and a freshly baked cookie and that's pretty much set the scene. Before I knew it my grotty mountain bike had been washed and put in the storeroom and a week's worth of washing had turned up folded in draws or hung in the wardrobe! Unbelievable.

The room's still big and I've got it just how I want it again. It's got an ensuite bathroom with a bath that is sheer luxury. I've taken a leaf out of Gilb's book and have one of my big stereo speakers that I point through the door for the ultimate chillout session. I also have a small private patio linked to my room- ideal for exercise and meditation.

Yes- the meditation is still rolling, although I must confess it's rare when I get time to do two full hours a day, but I do always put in at least a ¼ hr token effort, even if I get in very late at night. I find it satisfying sometimes, but tedious at others, especially if it doesn't go well and I've got other things I could be doing. I would say my days go much smoother for it though, even if it doesn't seem it was a good session, so I'm keeping it up. The non-drinking is a piece of cake. I love not spending a fortune on nights out, having decent sober conversations with people, being able to take the bike and so hang out with different groups of people in different places on the same night and of course being able to get up fresh every morning. If I'm not careful I'm going to start ranting about how alcohol is a conspiracy to keep people stupid, poor and miserable! Don't get me wrong, I do miss a fresh cold beer, a tasty G&T and a nice glass of wine and the loosened up feeling after a couple is all good but there are plenty of nice drinks about and I reckon being 'pissed' these days is rubbish, only useful to anaesthetise yourself against a dodgy evening and that's plain lazy. It doesn't help me dance, doesn't make me funny and doesn't help me make friends with strangers- it's all a placebo at best or myth at worst. It's struck me like a bolt between the eyes how ropey certain aspects of nightlife can be. First off, in general pissed people are boring. I swear I heard exactly the same story in 7 different variations from a pissed girl the other night. It was a good story, but still- 7 times, she just wouldn't shut up about it! And previously 'cool' places now seem to be smaller and more dingy with rubbish music, outrageously priced drinks and filled with armies of 'lads' in shirts staring silently at a few cute girls on the dance floor before having a load more drinks and turning their attention to the hookers. It sounds like I may have lost my taste for nightlife but far from it; I now just pay attention to my taste rather than drinking through it. I've been enjoying some really interesting chats with great people, loving good music good ambience and good food but now if something bores me then I'll do something about it, other than going to the bar again. Sorry for the rant guys- feel free to give me a slating when you see me and to remind me of all this if/when I start again!

The veggie bit is proving to be tougher. Although I'm not fussed about meat I do love food and it is an essential ingredient to a lot of good food (steak, for instance!) It's also a hassle, especially if other people are preparing food. I've broken the veggie bit twice so far, once with a meal prepared by the maid, which was fine since I didn't want to be fussy, but the other time my resolve went down in a blazing inferno at the sight of a famous Singapore 'brunch' last Sunday. Brunch is amazing- a buffet stuffed with the finest breakfasts, sushi, salads, meats, seafood and deserts you can imagine. Most of my 20 mates were doing the champagne version, which I managed to resist (see above) whereby you get all you can drink champers for 3 hrs- awesome decadence. I gorged on everything and managed to tuck away 10 small deserts over the course of the last hour and a half. Yep- brunch makes Christmas dinner look like a starter but I have never seen a restaurant bill like that before either- over S$3,000! (£1,000) I paid for my indulgence by shouting Ralf that night- I'm half proud and half disturbed that my digestive system ain't into meat any more. Jesus, can you believe it? Me, a proper meat-rejecting veggie? God, next I'll be cuddling trees...

Summary:

• Moved into a county house.
• Still meditating and seem to have developed into an opinionated ranter!

 ..:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

Well, I'm back! No orange robes, still got hair, still got a job and all my assets and I'm not guzzling down a one-way ticket to ride on Hailey's comet any time soon- success. I am feeling a lot happier and do have a few more funny ideas, but that was the whole point.

So, what was it like? What's it all about? Well, I don't know if good old Rudyard Kipling ever came across Vipassana during his time in India but 'If' crossed my mind towards the end of the course and struck a chord, especially the part about meeting with both Triumph and Disaster and treating the two impostors just the same. Coming back and reading it every line rings true. It's a tall order and nothing is said of how to achieve it- Vipassana is a way to learn, and it's hard!

(Film and music references kept popping into my empty mind; they'll be in brackets.)

It all starts on a non-too-spiritual Scout camp in a tucked away corner of Singapore on the early evening of 'Day 0'. I made up my bed in the dorm with the other recruits (Fight Club, Project Mayhem) and went out to listen to the intro. So far everyone had seemed pretty normal- almost all Chinese of different ages, about 20 girls and 20 guys. All the helpers seemed nice and weren't wearing stupefied grins or dodgy clothes and there was an authentic gong, a good start. That evening we were called together for the introduction and sat in a hall to listen to a recorded address. My first thought as the slightly hypnotic voice urged us to either submit fully to the course for 10 days or leave now was- 'Oh shit. I'm in a cult.' To be fair my next one was, 'Hey, cool. I'm in a cult'! It turned out neither was true, but my guard was well and truly up (news reports of mass-suicides in the mid-West).

Here started the 'Noble Silence' that was to remain for the duration. No eye contact, no gesturing and certainly no talking. I realised that I was good at this having practised for years with cute girls in clubs. Also there was to be no reading or writing, no music, no drinking, no meat, no religious practise (big deal for some I'm sure) and no vigorous exercise. So what the hell did we do for 10 days? In short we ate, slept, dozed, dazed, learnt and meditated.

4am GONG- Doze. 4.30am- GONG Meditate in hall. 6.30am GONG- Breakfast and dozing. 8am GONG- Meditate. 11am GONG- Lunch and daze. 1pm GONG- Meditate. 5pm GONG- Dinner (fruit). 6pm GONG- Meditate. 7pm GONG- DVD of teaching (with a pleasingly Yoda-like teacher. Unfortunately (for him) his wife also looked like Yoda! Damn- that's some bad karma right there) 8pm GONG- Meditate. 9pm GONG- Daze and sleep. Rinse and repeat.

4am GONG- Doze. 4.30am- GONG Meditate in hall. 6.30am GONG- Breakfast and dozing. 8am GONG- Meditate. 11am GONG- Lunch and daze. 1pm GONG- Meditate. 5pm GONG- Dinner (fruit). 6pm GONG- Meditate. 7pm GONG- DVD of teaching. 8pm GONG- Meditate. 9pm GONG- Daze and sleep. Rinse and repeat.

4am GONG- Doze. 4.30am- GONG Meditate in hall. 6.30am GONG- Breakfast and dozing. 8am GONG- Meditate. 11am GONG- Lunch and daze. 1pm GONG- Meditate. 5pm GONG- Dinner (fruit). 6pm GONG- Meditate. 7pm GONG- DVD of teaching. 8pm GONG- Meditate. 9pm GONG- Daze and sleep. Rinse and repeat.

4am GONG- Doze. 4.30am- GONG Meditate in hall. 6.30am GONG- Breakfast and dozing. 8am GONG- Meditate. 11am GONG- Lunch and daze. 1pm GONG- Meditate. 5pm GONG- Dinner (fruit). 6pm GONG- Meditate. 7pm GONG- DVD of teaching. 8pm GONG- Meditate. 9pm GONG- Daze and sleep. Rinse and repeat.

4am GONG- Doze. 4.30am- GONG Meditate in hall. 6.30am GONG- Breakfast and dozing. 8am GONG- Meditate. 11am GONG- Lunch and daze. 1pm GONG- Meditate. 5pm GONG- Dinner (fruit). 6pm GONG- Meditate. 7pm GONG- DVD of teaching. 8pm GONG- Meditate. 9pm GONG- Daze and sleep. Rinse and repeat.

4am GONG- Doze. 4.30am- GONG Meditate in hall. 6.30am GONG- Breakfast and dozing. 8am GONG- Meditate. 11am GONG- Lunch and daze. 1pm GONG- Meditate. 5pm GONG- Dinner (fruit). 6pm GONG- Meditate. 7pm GONG- DVD of teaching. 8pm GONG- Meditate. 9pm GONG- Daze and sleep. Rinse and repeat.

4am GONG- Doze. 4.30am- GONG Meditate in hall. 6.30am GONG- Breakfast and dozing. 8am GONG- Meditate. 11am GONG- Lunch and daze. 1pm GONG- Meditate. 5pm GONG- Dinner (fruit). 6pm GONG- Meditate. 7pm GONG- DVD of teaching. 8pm GONG- Meditate. 9pm GONG- Daze and sleep. Rinse and repeat.

4am GONG- Doze. 4.30am- GONG Meditate in hall. 6.30am GONG- Breakfast and dozing. 8am GONG- Meditate. 11am GONG- Lunch and daze. 1pm GONG- Meditate. 5pm GONG- Dinner (fruit). 6pm GONG- Meditate. 7pm GONG- DVD of teaching. 8pm GONG- Meditate. 9pm GONG- Daze and sleep. Rinse and repeat.

4am GONG- Doze. 4.30am- GONG Meditate in hall. 6.30am GONG- Breakfast and dozing. 8am GONG- Meditate. 11am GONG- Lunch and daze. 1pm GONG- Meditate. 5pm GONG- Dinner (fruit). 6pm GONG- Meditate. 7pm GONG- DVD of teaching. 8pm GONG- Meditate. 9pm GONG- Daze and sleep. Rinse and repeat.

4am GONG- Doze. 4.30am- GONG Meditate in hall. 6.30am GONG- Breakfast and dozing. 8am GONG- Meditate. 11am GONG- Lunch and daze. 1pm GONG- Meditate. 5pm GONG- Dinner (fruit). 6pm GONG- Meditate. 7pm GONG- DVD of teaching. 8pm GONG- Meditate. 9pm GONG- Daze and sleep. Rinse and repeat.

<SPAN style="FONT-FAMILY: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 8.0pt">I don't want to say too much about the process since the only way to learn is to do it, and I agree that the only way to get results is a 10 day intensive course with all the silence and the rest, otherwise you would never get it. They've been running the same course for 2500 years, so it's safe to say it's tried and tested! You don't just sit there day-dreaming, it's a real skill like learning to juggle or drive. You've got to concentrate and practise and let it come naturally so you don't try too hard. And then? And well then you get the Earth and everything that's in it- or more precisely you get a good mood that if you're good enough at it nothing should shake. 

The idea is that misery and suffering are bought about by craving, aversion and attachment. This is a fairly standard idea but Vipassana's answer is that while you can't free your self entirely from natural craving and aversion you can train yourself not to respond to them, just to let them be. This is called being 'equanimous'. A deep realisation that everything changes helps with this- it's much harder to get excited about things once you realise that whether they're painful or pleasurable they ain't going to last anyway- so why crave or fear them? And it's daft trying to hold attachments since change is inevitable.

The real beauty (or pain) is that while it may only take 10 minutes to 'learn' this it takes10 days just to start really 'learning' this at a deep level. The idea is that there are three different levels of knowledge. You can be told something and accept it (like a friend telling you that peanut butter and jam sandwiches are nice), or you can reason something out and know it intellectually (that soft bread, sweet jam and salty peanut butter is a winning combo) but you don't really 'know' jack until you bite into it and experience it for yourself. Yes, I ate a lot of peanut butter and jam sarnies there and had a lot of time to think! Having studied philosophy this made sense to me. So much is argued about and 'known' at an intellectual level, and it's perfectly natural for students to 'know' directly conflicting things, but precious little is known at an the 'real' experiential level because this is much, much harder.

So how the hell do you experience the nature of change and the virtue of equanimity by sitting on your arse in a Scout hall for 10 hours a day? This is the neat bit. You train your brain to become incredibly sensitive to physical sensations all over the body and find that it's only with a perfectly level mind that you can feel sensations everywhere- if you get excited about it you lose it. Through this you can also see that change occurs even when you think it can't by 'watching' sensations or lack of them on your skin come and go and change (Changes- Bowie). And when you become sensitive and balanced enough you can feel your whole body subtly at the same time and it felt to me like I just totally disappeared. The first time this happened it totally blew me away (Train Spotting. 'Higher than the Sun'- Primal Scream). And you find that you don't have to react to things like discomfort and boredom and pain. By the end of the course you don't have to fidget, change posture or respond to the aches in your back and legs but learning this took strength I didn't know I had ('Hurt' Johnny Cash, Fight Club again- the acid bit and the car-crash bit- 'Just. Let. Go.') Significantly various memories involved with craving and aversion get thrown up from your past and if you just observe them without reacting they get dismissed and so you 'purify' your mind- very therapeutic. As well as this I've learnt a lot about time! Contrary to popular belief it doesn't just fly by because you're meditating. It takes forever for an hour or two to pass until it has passed and then it's as if it were a click of the fingers. Much like the whole of life, thinking about it. (Time- Pink Floyd. It's about Time- The Lemonheads)

My state of mind? With all the isolation and lack of diversions I would have thought I'd get bored but rarely was I. Ok, I did resort to playing with ants and trying to outstare lizards but it was fun in a primitive, mental-hospital kind of way. In terms of sharpness I progressed from a vodka-hangover like daze on the first day to a rarely enjoyed crystal clarity by the last. I'll never forget (whoops! Everything changes, right?) sitting for hours watching a silent electrical storm over the sea amongst feral dogs, frogs and inquisitive mice on the last night with the mind of a cool mountain pool- pure magic. Some other striking memories of the trip will be of the dreams- I've never experienced anything like some of them. Normally the doze after breakfast for an hour, loaded down with bread after about 20hrs of near-fasting and days of non-stimulation, was tripping time and threw up the most vivid, striking dreams of my life including a couple where I 'woke up' into them. Incredible- more real than life.

Overall it wasn't easy. In fact I'd say it's about the hardest thing I've ever done- physically, psychologically and emotionally. Sorry Tom (the guy who put me on to this) but I cursed you every day, normally just before the 4 hour afternoon session! I'll buy you a lemonade for every time I did, though where I'm going to get £1,000 for this from I'm not so sure. Despite all this I'd say it's also one of the best things I've ever done. Believe it or not I think it will have as much impact on my life as the discovery of all the good things- sex, drugs, rock 'n' roll, cars, travel, the lot. The real test for me is whether I would have rather spent the extra 10 days in Bali, where I spent a great long weekend partying and surfing just before, or on the retreat and I can honestly say the retreat.

To do this properly though requires a real commitment, not just 10 days of trying. No intoxicants- there goes the beer but honestly, I don't mind. While drinking has been a riot at times I think it's run its course and now costs more than it's worth in terms of money, time, health and pleasure. No killing- not a problem except if this means being veggie. I'm not sure but I suspect it does and if I'm honest with myself I think it should do. I haven't eaten meat since the start and wouldn't mind continuing. Perhaps the biggest one is the two hours a day of continued meditation, one hour morning, one hour evening. Speaking to people after the course who already do this (yes, people do come back!) they say it's ok. You come to relish the 'time off', you can knock an hour off your sleep in the morning and you're that much more productive in the day that you can afford another hour somewhere else- we'll see.

If you fancy giving all this a go, and if it strikes a chord with you or raises your curiosity at all I urge you to take your courage in your hands and take the plunge, then there's a permanent centre near Wales. The course is totally free and is solely supported by ex-students through donations, this way you truly get to live like a monk- on the charity of others. It is hard and you will want to leave (although knowing you lot you'll stick it, not to be beaten if nothing else), but you will have one hell of an experience at the least and a much happier life at the most. Go for it!

In other news I'm back in the UK in June and am free on Sat 9^th, fly to Sweden for 6 days to visit Annika and her family on Sunday, have the 18^th/19^th free, then go to Glastonbury until the 25^th then come back here on the 29^th. Phew! If I get a chance to see you then that'll be great- I'm missing UK people and feel well and truly out of a good loop (if there's still one there at all these days?)

Right- tell me if I sound like a nut otherwise big hippie Peace and Love to all (I mean it),

Mark

Summary:

• Survived and even enjoyed a 10 day meditation retreat
• Coming home for most of June but have a manic schedule of fun which I'm trying hard not to crave!

Every now and then something, or more often someone, comes along and gives me a jolt, reshapes my thinking about what's possible, what I'm doing and what I could do. This time it's come in the shape of Luca (answer phone message, 'Hey Mark, is Luca! You remember? The crazy Italian guy.')

Luca arrived on my doorstep a couple of months ago with Tom off an overnight bus from Malaysia and grabbed a shower and a bit of sleep at my place. He said something about picking up a yacht from Malaysia and sailing from Thailand down to Singapore in a few months time, and that he'd give me a call then. Sure enough, last weekend I got that answer phone message. The yacht was moored in Malaysia but he was in Singapore for a couple of days shopping for equipment, so of course I offered for him and his friends to stay. Over dinner on Monday night I got the full story.

Lucio, Luca's friend and now the captain, had been crewing on a yacht for five years after studying engineering at a Ferrari school no less. Between them they had always held the dream of buying a boat and sailing the world together and last December it started becoming a reality. Lucio left his home of five years and camped with Luca while they finally made their decision on the boat- a 33', steel-hulled yacht that hadn't been sailed for 6 years and looked like a wreck. They paid about €10k for it, sailed it to Phuket, Thailand, and put it in dry-dock for a few months while they totally restored the hull and began work on the inside. The trip from Thailand to Singapore was the first leg of a journey that's going to take them to Alaska, via Hong Kong and Japan, and then onto…

This is cool. This is really cool. I stayed on board last night and fell in love. She's called 'Snake' ('On the Road' reference) and looks solid and ready for anything. They have on board enough toys to stay entertained for years- dvds, books, fishing equipment, laptop, stereo, kite surfing stuff and even a paraglider. And the best thing is that on board you are almost totally self-sufficient, with solar panels for electricity, awnings to collect rainwater and sails to take you wherever you could wish to go. A bit of diesel for the engine, rice to go with your fish and charcoal for the barbeque and you're good to go. You can stay offshore, out of marinas, for months at a time- total freedom. There's something so peaceful and safe about being on the water with everything you could need with you- I'm enchanted.

We were invited to another Italian couple's boat for dinner (red wine and spaghetti of course). This guy had been living on boats for 21 years and had had his own one for 12, just cruising the world- unbelievable. Every tale was another fascinating book, every character larger than life.

So it's left me wondering what I'm doing not living on a boat and sailing around the world. I'm sure it's not easy but it just seems to be me. Would I really be missed, or miss, five years of 'normal life'? Or at least one? Maybe I'm too young to be doing all this serious work I feel I should be right now anyway?

Ok, this is a dream. I can't really sail, don't have a boat or means to buy one, don't have a clue how to navigate or a million-and-one other things (which I probably know so little about I don't even know that I don't know them yet) and I have a job to do. But it has been a good jolt, and if you never have a dream you can never have a dream come true, right? So, who's in?

Other weirdness going on is that I'm starting to tire of this Singapore life. I feel I need a change of scene and I can't wait for next Friday when I fly off to Bali for a long weekend surfing. As soon as I'm back though I'm into real strangeness- I've signed up for a 10-day meditation course/retreat here in Singapore. I'm feeling apprehensive and excited about it just writing this. It's going to be perhaps the most hardcore thing I've ever done, but maybe I'm just building 10 days of sitting on my backside up a bit much? I feel about it the same as you would before travelling somewhere new and undiscovered. You're pretty sure it's going to be good but at the same time you're quite happy where you are thank-you-very-much and so why take a chance? Why explore change? My answer is that I'm a curious bugger and like experiences and a challenge- and this will be both. I'll surrender my mobile on the door, promise not to communicate for the duration (talking, writing, gesturing), get up at 4am each morning and meditate for up to two hours at a time between staying in a tent. Ooo eck- I must be nuts. Luckily I've heard all good things about the experience but I'm as concerned as you probably are that I'll come back as a raving hippy New Age freak. Sorry in advance if I do ;-)

But I am curious to see if there is something beyond sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll. I won't be disappointed if there's not- they've always served me well. Having said that they are starting to wear a bit thin these days.

I'll let you know, maybe telepathically? Who knows?

Ps- The Malaysia pics are actually up now!

Summary:

• May become a sailor
• Or a hippy

A quick update on my new mode of living for you:

I'm feeling good, sharp and cheerful and everything is coming up roses. Why? Well Tom, my newly Buddhafied friend, would say it was the meditation and Dharma. Arnaud, my gym buddy, would say it was all the exercise. My vitamin dealer at GNC, the nutrition shop, would say it was my diet. My adrenaline dealer would say it was the bike he sold me. Marta, my hypnotherapist friend, would say it was the hypnosis. My eye surgeon would say it was my new eyes and I reckon it's got a lot to do with not drinking for a month. For whatever reason, I feel like I'm cooking on gas.

Clearly they're all overlapping and this is my new mode of existence: I roll out of bed at about half seven and just sit and clear my head for half an hour (which is actually a brilliant way of getting up). Then I either grab a snack and go for a run (last week I ran about 12k before breakfast, this morning 5) or get a breakfast of Muslix and yoghurt (delicious and nutritious) and do a bit of work before hitting Arnaud's decent and empty condo gym for an hour or hour and a half with him. With breakfast I knock back a couple of Omega pills (good for the brain) and a couple of chunky multi-vitamins/minerals/anti-oxidents (good for what ails you). After my workout or run or whatever I down a tasty protein shake mixed with banana milk, do a bit more work then go for lunch. The rest of the day is pretty normal apart from the evenings when I take my bike and stick to soft drinks rather than beers (riding home from wherever in the middle of the night/early morning is a blast anyway) and sit quietly for half an hour again before going to sleep.

It may seem like all this takes a lot of time but I find I can scratch most of it off my sleep. I need to sleep much less and can get up easily in the morning, partly because it's only to sit quietly and partly because I'm looking forward to the day so much. That, and meditation is some kind of sleep substitute and the vitamins and exercise are really good for energy. And when I do sleep I sleep like the dead.

I don't know how long all this is going to last, I'm not even doing it consciously, but it's fun right now, and as I'm enjoying myself life seems to take care of itself.

What do you reckon? Surprised? Have I cracked? Or has everyone been doing this kind of stuff for ages and just not been telling me?

In other news I've just had a blast of an Easter weekend on my bike in Malaysia- 1,200 high-speed kilometres in four days taking in Tioman (a tropical island), Kuala Lumpur and the Malaysian Formula One. See Myspace pics for highlights. I feel like I've well and truly lost my biking virginity now after being in the saddle for hours through scorching sun and torrential rain, racing Ferraris through motorway traffic Gumball style and coasting silently down cool mountain passes in the damp misty moonlight. My poor 150cc 'beast' did take a battering though, having been redlined at 10,000rpm for four days straight, and dragged home sounding off-tune with dysfunctional electrics, a bald rear tyre and only one wing mirror. Having had some professional TLC and $160 lavished on it yesterday it's back on top form. For all that I love it I'm already looking forward to a bike that will take a passenger with ease, will do more than 100km without needing a fill-up and will do more than 150kmph without a tailwind!

Summary:

• Healthy living
• Weekend blast through Malaysia

I've been waiting for something unusual to happen before penning another blog, and for me this is massive. I woke up this morning, checked the time, looked around the room, opened the curtains and took in the day. Nothing unusual for most of you but for me this is the first time I've done that in over 10 years without first rubbing crust from my eyes or balancing lenses in front of them. Just pure, clear, focussed vision- a miracle. I feel like a new man...:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

It's been a struggle coming to this point though. First of all I went for an assessment in December. At this the bastards dripped three dilating drops in my eyes that stung and ached and left me dizzy, afraid of light and unable to focus within a metre of me for over a day. Then on the day of the surgery I had a huge drama with payment since the credit card I intended to use was out of date and although I had a new one it couldn't be activated until 3pm my time and the surgery was set for 11am. With some help from my parents this looked to have been overcome and I was within half an hour of going under laser when a grim faced doctor took me aside and explained that the Singapore National Eye Centre would be postponing all surgery until further notice due to a much higher than usual number of infections being detected. In retrospect the delay was fortunate since I either may have been infected or at the least I would have spent a long time with only one eye sorted (since at that centre they do one eye each day).

A week later I saw in the papers it would be at least a month before I could be done. Bugger that. Searching the net I found a centre in Malaysia that was only 45mins away, pretty cheap and could do me next week. So what if they use rusty scalpels and iodine? Rusty scalpels and iodine have been around for centuries- they're proven technology. And to think that I almost put my faith in new fangled 'lasers'! Only kidding- they seemed just as well kitted out as in Singapore and boutiqueier by comparison to the production-line Eye Centre.

So yesterday I was in top spirits as I crossed the border and walked to the clinic. I know a couple of people who have done it and come through fine, no sweat, nothing to worry about but perfect vision to look forward too. Er, yeah.

The surgery was harrowing. I shed my glasses for the last time, changed into surgical clothes and had my eyes washed before being led into the operating theatre, cheerful and expectant. I can now empathise with lambs going for a gleeful day-trip to the abattoir and realising that the day might not go quite as they hoped once they arrive. I lay back with my head in a carved out block looking at an array of expensive looking machinery and the upside down face of a surgeon dressed exactly as they do in 'Casualty'- hmm, all looks quite serious.

First came the big sticky patch with a cut out for my eye, once that was on bye-bye blinking. Then came drops descending from somewhere to my side, sweet anaesthetic- shouldn't feel a thing after that right? But what's he doing now? What's that he's got? Too close to see but, ow! I can feel it. Shit, does he have to poke around my eye like that? 'Relax Mark. You've got to relax. It's hard to work when you're tense.'

'I'll relax when I'm in bed with some soothing music and a massage, not when I'm on an operating table with a knife in my eye you bastard.' Of course I couldn't say this, only 'Ok, I'm trying', as I winced harder.

Next came a black ring that pushed my eye even further open and then something else I'll never know. A call of 'Suction on!' and my eye gets tugged in its socket and everything fades to black- aarghh. I've seen 'Total Recall', I know how this ends! But then, 'Suction off', and it's over- I can see again. But wish I couldn't as my eye's being prodded again and I sense more than see that the flap of eyeball skin is being folded back. Now I can't see anything, but just experience light, still tensing everything like Arnie in a vacuum. Now there're jets of liquid in my eye- ow!- you bastards. Finally the call, 'Laser coming', and sure enough as I 'look' at some diffused red light I hear a dozen cracks and smell my eye searing.

Phew, all over. All that has to be done it flap the skin back- piece of cake- and do some kind of brushing over the ball and I can finally close it again. Mercy.

Repeat for the left eye and cut to me staggering out of the theatre, muttering a few half felt thank yous and squinting through my burnt, violated peepers as I get changed and led to a mercifully comfortable reclining chair and told that I could just rest there for half an hour. Fortunately I'm not well acquainted with discomfort and pain so this was unusual. The only time I've felt anything like it is seven years ago at Gaz's farmhouse in France, when climbing a concrete pylon (don't ask) I brushed grit and dust straight into my contact lensed eyes and initiated an hour of agony before I could hold my eyes open enough to get the lenses out. This was the same. I tried to tentatively open my eyes a couple of times, hoping to cheer myself up with miraculous vision, but I only ever got as far as letting in some painful white light and letting out a few more tears before thoughts of my flaps coming away and going back under the knife encouraged me to do exactly what I was told.

Gritty eyes

                Gritty eyes

                               Gritty eyes

                                              Painful eyes

                                                            Gritty eyes

                                                                          Tear running down face

                                                                                               Gritty eyes

Eventually I'm shaken gently and told to go to the waiting room. I'm led by the arm and sat outside the 'clean area' to put my shoes on and this is my first real chance to test out the new sight. Through streaming tears I can see my shoes in good focus, but just like pure white snow on a cloudless mountaintop they are impossible to look at for more than a couple of seconds, even through squinted eyes. Of course, my sunglasses! No coke-wired Sloaney has ever been more grateful to slip on a pair of over-sized shades. Now if I squinted I could see ok, but life was still much better with my eyes closed.

The doctor examined them quickly, said he was pleased, didn't mention the wincing (which was good of him) and turned me loose. The mission was on- crossing boarders with minimal sight. Luckily I had done the exact journey a few days before so I auto piloted it to the taxi stand, opening my eyes occasionally to save bumping into anything or getting run over and then sat in the shared taxi to Singapore with my eyes tight closed and tears still running, fumbling blindly in my bag for my passport at checkpoints.

By the time I got home and closed the curtains I could open my eyes quite happily and found I could see ok, despite the discomfort. A couple of hours of lying quietly later and it was night and time to go around to a fellow 'post-op' friend's place for some care and attention (/DVD and pizza). Now I was chuffed again, I could see! The lights of the city, the road signs, the film- everything.

This morning was the real start though, waking up and realising that it's done and sorted and I can throw away my lenses and solutions and pack away my glasses as a memory only. Amazing.

I could quite comfortably ride my bike back to the clinic first thing to hear that my progress was fine and despite my sight not being perfect and still being in some discomfort this was perfectly normal. If my sight stayed like this it would be worthwhile but it's set to keep improving for a month. Incredible.

I got carried away with the gory detail but I don't mean this to put anybody off. Ok, it's very unpleasant for 20 mins and uncomfortable for a few hours but the results are miraculous- do it.

Other news? Well the job's going really well, except I'm not making any damn money! People are finally listening to me and referring me to their friends but they're still hard to pin down for long enough to get anything completed, and it's not until then that I get paid. That and a few very unlucky breaks have meant that for the minute I'm totally skint- not good at all this far in.

Perhaps partly because of this I haven't been going out too much (save a few top-notch nights like a Pete Tong pool-party at Café Del Mar a few weeks back) and have been exploring meditation having had Climbing Tom pass through for a weekend on his way from 3 months in India and a 10 day meditation course to life back in the UK. He reckons it's revolutionised his life, and he certainly seemed even more cheerful, friendly and sorted than he is usually. So before you start shouting 'Effing hippy' bear in mind that I like pleasure and being open-minded, and that one usually leads to the other and this is a natural extension of that. And that I'm normally right ;-) Give it a go; it's working for me- life's just better if you spend an hour a day concentrating on nothing…

Summary:

I'll dispense with the usual apologies, there's no time. I'll add a new one though- it's a Saturday afternoon and I've just got up with a monster hangover lurking just below the surface so if the text and plot seem shaky and slurred to you don't worry- it's just written like that...:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

I guess I better start with a word about the biggest party in Singapore, although it was a hell of a long time ago now. It was Zoukout, the best beach party/dance festival in Singapore, if not Asia, and it slotted in nicely after an amazing day spent ragging the hell out of my poor little bike in Malaysia. Getting a bike for me had always been about getting off this tiny, stale island and having some fun while seeing some sights around Asia. The speed limit in Singapore is 55mph, in Malaysia it's… Well, nobody cares because you can bribe the police. So the day was a winner, cruising empty roads fringed by palm trees listening to some RHCP in the sunshine and getting cranked-up on adrenalin whenever I dropped three gears and pushed past a line of cars, before the evening even set in. And when the evening set in- phew! Great DJs, sand between the toes, tons of friends everywhere, beautiful girls in bikinis a stunning, fresh, clear sunrise and then back to a 5 star hotel pool for a dip and a wind-down before bed- that's a good night.

And then the rain set it. It was heavy, grey, monotonous and perpetual- the whole island was locked inside. The Christmas trees smelt like home, friends started to travel and as I thought of everyone 'back home' I felt how long it had been since my last Christmas. The final straw was hearing of a trip to Holland for New Years Eve- how could I miss that?? Just to get the idea out of my mind I fired up the laptop and checked that flights home would be outrageously expensive- but what's this? A flight in two days for £550? And a virgin 'emergency' credit card in my travel wallet? What's that? I should book the flight and go home? Ah- the good old voices, they'll always do me right! So that was it- after hours of researching the delicate logistics and checking that a trip from Den Haag in Holland to Railey Beach in Thailand was technically possible, given the tight time and money constraints, I did it- I bought the ticket and took the trip.

Thanks to a kind and incredibly gratefully received lift from Dan in the freezing fog I was able to make the journey all the way home without telling my parents. The first they knew of my return was seeing me stood on the doorstep, bag on shoulder and jetlag and a smile in my eyes. As Mastercard says- priceless.

Being home was fantastic- comfortable, relaxed, interesting. So much time was spent in bed and the Exchange that I barely got to do anything else, including visit Southampton/my house or call anyone who wasn't around Winchester- sorry guys, I did want to but I was indulging my laziness. I really never thought I'd see so many old friends in the same room ever again as were in the Exchange pretty much night after night- classic. Christmas day itself was a bit slow, the mean age at the pub dinner table I worked out to be somewhere in the mid-60s. My real Christmas day was Boxing day when Keith had returned from Egypt, been suitably surprised, and he, me and my parents retreated to a beautiful country house for a super lunch before dropping me at the Exchange where I sat for 10 straight hours as old friends came and went- magic.

The trip to Holland was a whirlwind affair. We packed Ed's mum's asthmatic baby-blue Rover 75 with essentials for 3 days away, my big travel bag, chocolate and random supplies for the Freeman's flat in Den Haag which just would not fit! Oh, and me, Ed, Gilb, Al Williams and Nick of course. By the time we had met Laura and Nadj out there we had a regular crew on our hands. The first night was spent in Dutch comfort, just warming up for the assault on Amsterdam the next day. We were booked into a classy joint some 30 mins outside the city and I'm happy to say that we significantly lowered the tone by packing six of us into a room for three. Amsterdam itself was fun; no more shall be said here on that subject, and for that matter it would be impossible for me to recall, much less recount, what really happened there that strange day. But it was Fun, in a wide sense of the word; I remember that much, and that's Important.

Right, coming hot on the heels of such a day New Years Eve itself was always going to be a tough gig. We pulled ourselves together and regrouped back at Nadja's flat in Den Haag, prepared a hearty meal and sat down to drink through it. With the help of some good old-fashioned drinking games we were all somewhat back on form by the time we braved the North Sea wind and rain to see a house-sized bonfire on the beach lit at midnight and burn like a furnace in the gale. The drink and danger and the sharp contrast between the hellish fire and the freezing, driving wind created a furious high to see 2007 in with.

This was instantly shattered and reversed though as it slowly dawned on each of us what was going on. A low-key scuffle in the thin crowd on the beach was starting to look more and more serious before it broke up and died down. Just when it looked like it was all over it took a turn for the worse when someone got hold of a 6ft piece of firewood and beat another guy with it and someone else, according to Ed, picked a fallen knife off the beach and threw it into the crowd. I still don't know what happened, or why, but I do know that by the time it was all over there was a man with severe stab wounds, perhaps to the neck, shaking in someone's arms on the sand- and that's a terrible shock to an innocent guy like me. I seriously don't know if I'll ever be the same- the injustice of it awoke a murderous anger in me. If I had got hold of the guy who had done that I would have beaten him to a bloody pulp, and so it was a sad realisation that I'm the same as everyone else in the world slowly and painfully destroying each other in tit-for-tat squabbles.

It was time to go. There was nothing to be done but hope desperately that an ambulance would be there in time to stop the worst and try to get on with our night.

We spent most of the night in a club in town but the combination of the shock, the exploits of the day before and the dodgy music meant that everyone was a bit off form. I pushed though it with the help of a drink syringe filled with Absinthe but I had to try hard to enjoy myself- which isn't the way it should really be.

The next day was the start of a new year and the start of my journey to meet my parents, who by this time were all the way over in Thailand. Car and ferry to Dover, train to London, crashed at Nick's, tube and shitty delayed BR train to Heathrow, flight to Kuala Lumpur, flight to Singapore, four hours of repacking and napping, flight to Thailand, taxi to beach, longtail boat to Railey beach and finally a walk to meet my parents- phew!

I'll skip through most of Thailand- you know how it goes. Idyllic weather (most of the time), beautiful scenery, cool people, fun 'stuff' to do like climbing or biking, parties, becoming more relaxed than you'd warrant possible. It was a pleasure to see Thailand working its charms on my parents as well as each day they chilled out and smiled more and more. It was a good job we left when we did, I reckon they were two days off selling up in the UK and spending their life savings on a beach shack, tie-die t-shirts and 20 years supply of weed, Chang and pad-thai.

Warning- a bit of a ramble below, no news at all in next paragraph.

One interesting thing of note was an attempt to give up drinking, as an experiment of sorts. After chatting to a Mormon who had never had so much as a coffee in her life but seemed totally sound, sociable and up for a good party more than most, and my gruelling drinking schedule of the previous weeks, it tempted my curiosity. The reasoning is that looking at it objectively, drinking does little for me. Ok, you have a good night out but maybe once you got used to not drinking you'd have just as good a night anyway? I'm terrible for forgetting things when I've been drinking- and surely at least part of the point of having a good time is being able to remember it? When I think of all that wasted, hung-over time, not to mention the obvious money and health issues, the idea that with a bit of effort to break the habit I could have more fun without a drink than with one appeals. Maybe it's like smoking, after a bit it does nothing positive for you but having a cigarette just eases the negatives? So I tried it. And man, it's hard! I missed that sunset beer, the glass of white wine with a fish-dish, the oh-so-cheap Big Chang at the bar. To be fair, it's about the most stupid place to attempt to give up drinking. Drinks are cheap, it's all there is to do in the evening and once my parents went to bed I had to make friends, which involves 'breaking the ice' which I never find easy but without a couple of beers I found literally impossible. I would be relaxing in a bar by myself, listening to the music and taking in what was going on, as usual, but instead of just 'getting chatting' to someone or going for a dance and meeting people that way I was just thinking- 'How the hell am I going to go about this? Who am I going to talk to? What about? Why? I can't just go and dance by myself- I'll look weird?' Of course all these are relevant questions even after a few beers, but somehow the volume gets turned down on them and it doesn't matter. I thought, and still do, that if you can just get used to this everything would be fine, but after three days I got thoroughly bored of it, allowed myself a few beers and had a really good time! I met a girl at a beach bar/party ordering orange juice going through a similar thing. I asked her how it was going and she looked at me, looked around us at the party going crazy and said, 'I'm fucking bored.' I suppose that sums it up nicely. I'm still curious though, and the logic still holds, so I may take another run at it sometime- I'll let you know how it goes.

Ramble over.

Would you believe that after all this excitement I was still excited to get back to Singapore? Well I was. The place is feeling like home now and I've finally got more people to spend time with than I've got time to spend- just the way I like it. I'm settled in to my second year of the venture, and this has always proved to be the best year of anything I've done so I'm thoroughly looking forward to it. I'm comfortable with the job and as busy as hell, so although I'm still technically broke I'm confident that the outlook on the money front is promising. Nightlife in Singapore continues to improve with racks of new clubs, rafts of djs passing through and good people hanging out. Café Del Mar has even opened up complete with beach, pools, club and Jacuzzis and it runs 24hrs a day on the weekend. I've just seen that Singapore has been polled as having the second best nightlife of any country in the world and while this is probably an overstatement it's not as crazy as it sounds. Come visit!

Other news? There's been drama at Affinity with Evie having difficulties getting a visa (the immigration problem from the other side of the fence!) and another colleague being hunted by her parents for wanting to get married to a guy they don't like. My life is relatively stable and peaceful!

Ah, and to think I almost forgot! That modelling agency finally came through with some work- so take that all you non-believers! Ok, so it was more a film extras thing but it was really interesting spending a day on the set of a high-budget production, fun getting pampered slightly and I made back half my costs so far- sweet! It did involve selling my dignity by dressing up as a Buckingham Palace guard and posing in public but I found the whole thing hilarious. Tune in to Korean TV at some point in the next year and you may just spot me on an advert.

That's all folks, for now…

Summary

• Brilliant beach party
• Last minute trip back to the UK
• New Years in Holland
• Trip to Thailand with my parents
• Got some 'modelling' work

Ps- I'm curious, who reads this? The blog tracker on Myspace reckons over a hundred people check my blog a week. I reckon 50 of these is my mum, but who're the rest. Leave a comment and satisfy my curiosity- cheers!

She's exciting and beautiful, is supposed to be reliable and low maintenance and was fairly cheap. That's right- with my test passed I've fallen for my cheeky silver Kawasaki KRR 150 (for a picture of her without her covers on see my pics section of myspace).

The test itself was fairly harrowing, not least because it meant being up at 5.45am! The whole day consisted of waiting around punctuated by times of high tension. Being Singapore the bike test was a production line process with 70 students riding exactly the same circuit route to assess bike control and exactly the same four-block road route to test road competence. This, much like the whole learning process, meant huge amounts of time wasted just hanging around or queuing- I was desperate for it to be the last time and to be able to kiss goodbye to the driving centre.

I felt fairly relaxed for the test itself. I've practised the route dozens of times and would never have failed on those and so short of doing something stupid and getting an immediate failure I was pretty confident. The fact that you can just practise this four-block route to perfection and then be deemed competent to ride anywhere in Singapore is, to my mind, a joke. You're allowed 20 'minor' points, which is quite a lot, and so the name of the game is riding ok but avoiding major, instant failure mistakes. I was afraid that I had stuffed up severely at the U turn section when the lights changed red and I had to stop having already crossed the stop line. I spent the 4 minute light cycle trying to look inconspicuous in front of the assessor on the street corner as I sat way over the line trying to work out how bad a mistake that was.

I wasn't to find out for another two hours when all the students were assembled in one room to await their fate. The method of giving results was torturous. Each of the 9 assessors gave the instructor their results at different times over a 20 minute period (as they finished marking I guess) and then the instructor read out a list of the student numbers in that batch who had failed. These people had to then take the long walk of shame to the door at the front of the room and leave- nasty. No one ever really explained the system and so, being number 4, when number 1 and number 7 were read out and 4 wasn't I started celebrating my pass with number 3. However doubt mounted when a load of other numbers were read out non-sequentially and we didn't really breath a sigh of relief until 15 minutes later the instructor announced that everyone left in the room had passed!

There was then an hour long wait to get the test paper back and another one to finally get the temporary license. As soon as I had heard about my pass I was straight on my mobile to the bike shop to ask them if I could pick it up that afternoon instead of the next day- I could! So with my new license clutched in my hot, sticky hand I jumped in a taxi straight over to the bike shop, signed a few pieces of paper, handed over a few grand (S$!) and took possession of the sweet thing- mission accomplished.

Or was it? I had a bike but I had never ridden it before and it was now on the pavement outside a bike shop situated on a five-lane main road leading to god-knows-where- I don't have a clue how to navigate around Singapore by road and had never ridden anywhere but that four block test route. Hmmm.

Nothing for it- I couldn't just sit there all day. I eased it off the pavement in front of a handily placed parked car, waited for a gap in the traffic and splashed into the deep end.

My first impression was a touch of disappointment. While it looks sporty, is nice to sit on and is supposed to be quick for such a small bike it didn't seem to be any more powerful than the very sensible 125cc test bikes. As I settled into it after a minute or so I realised that the throttle could twist back much more than other bikes I've ridden and the game changed. Suddenly the bike felt pretty lithe, especially when I didn't change up gears so quickly- nice. And it feels wonderful too, really responsive and easy to 'tune into'. I spent some time getting used to riding it while navigating my way home and starting to learn to dodge the Singaporean traffic. The more comfortable I got the more I started to really enjoy it, although it's still hard to relax with all the city traffic.

Once I was home I could get hold of the gear I had bought- a full-face helmet, gloves and padded riding jacket. With this on I felt much more comfortable and took it out for a proper spin. After a while I was feeling pretty happy on the road, had tested the brakes hard and the handling as much as I could and thought it was time to see what the engine could do. So far I hadn't taken it above 6,000 revs but when I found a straight, empty patch of road I slowed right down so I could use second gear (of six), opened the throttle and watched the revs and speed rise as the scenery accelerated past. 3,000 revs- a 2-stroke engine buzzing loudly but not doing much. 5,000 revs- a chain-saw hum and the engine feels responsive and is pulling well. 7,000 revs- CHRIST! The engine screams, I get pulled backwards and everything is disappearing behind me at warp speed until I hit the 10,000 rev red-line. Wow! I'm hooked.

Since then I've been messing around on it as much as possible, really trying to get to grips with the bike and riding in Singapore- far from feeling like having passed my test I can ride I feel like I'm just starting to learn. Already I'm feeling frustrated by Singapore's roads and traffic and looking forward to breaking off the island to some open roads- hopefully next weekend.

Summary:

• Passed my bike test
• Picked up my bike

Loads has happened and so straight to it.

The biggest events have been a long anticipated visit from Ed, Issy and her friend Justin and our trip to Thailand. It was sheer class to have visitors around again and a great spur to get some living done and give them a taste for Singapore life. No one ever really got over their jet lag so the visit consisted of afternoons and nights. The first full afternoon was spent on a speedboat cruising a perfectly calm estuary in the north and finding out that Issy's a natural wake boarder and that anybody can learn if they just keep picking themselves up and trying again (Justin!)

Nights were spent remembering what it's like to go out with some old English mates with a bottle of vodka or two in tow. The Saturday night was the funniest- a tour of 7-11s followed by tearing it up in a couple of clubs in town before an early morning roti prata and a dip in the pool just before dawn. Issy in particular was necking the scratchy with a carefree abandon for which she, and poor Justin, would surely pay the price the next morning when they tried to catch their train at 8.30. Sure enough, come time to get up and pack an hour after her collapse, Issy could barely be raised and when she was it was unclear whether she had sustained brain damage as she wandered around the room organising her possessions at glacial speed. Needless to say they missed their train, the fact that it was by just 4 minutes was miraculous enough. Luckily they managed to get on a bus and catch up with the train by the time it left Kuala Lumpur that evening.

Ed and I caught up with them on a beach in Thailand a couple of days later after an eventful KM8 session on Sunday night. While narrowly losing a downing competition to a heavily tattooed, 6'2'' Icelandic nutter Ed noticed one of the bar staff picking his phone off the floor and disappearing. It turned out that rather than keeping it safe behind the bar he denied all knowledge= Ed not a happy bunny. Despite this the music and girls just about made up for it! The final twist in the tale came when the above-mentioned nutter picked up a 'friend' of his and threw him in the pool. This wasn't a good plan since, naturally, the guy dragged the Icelander in with him. The problem with this was that the walking tattoo canvas hadn't thought to take his phone from his pocket and leave it somewhere safe before playing with the water. He didn't quite see it this way and immediately convicted his 'friend' of ruining his phone and repeatedly sentanced him to death if a phone wasn't restored to his possession within 24 hrs- twat.

But anyway- Thailand. Tonsai beach, southwest Thailand. Perfect turquoise waters, dramatic limestone cliffs, no cars, access only by boat, delicious food, islands to explore by kayak, sheer cliffs rising from the sea to climb and jump off, Climbing Tom about to show us around- lovely but over all too quickly after but 3 nights.

Ed and I left Issy and Justin to return to Singapore as they moved on through the rest of Thailand. There was time for one more big night out in Singapore with Ed before his return to Blighty, but this didn't exactly go according to plan. We were going out late anyway, having just got back from Thailand and both of us feeling pretty tired and Ed feeling a touch under the weather, and 10 minutes into our first bar and Ed was already trying to find Ralf in the toilet (shouting Ralf? Being sick?) and things went from bad to worse. Ed suffered a tragic night in (and out of) bed, sick as an Englishman in New Delhi. By the next afternoon it was clear that Ed was going to miss that evening's flight but needed certification from a doctor that he was unfit to fly. With clearance from Ed's travel insurer I got on the phone ordering the finest medical attention Singapore has to offer and within an hour a doctor was at his bedside, shaking his head at the 39.5C reading on his thermometer and recommending Ed get in the ambulance downstairs and go straight to hospital! After a couple of nights of care and attention and litres of saline and drugs dripped into him Ed was pretty much as right as rain. The funny thing about the whole affair is that Ed was clearly in a much worse state in Indonesia where the doctor didn't even take his temperature and left him to 'sweat' it out from Bali to Flores.

The real blow came when 4 hrs before his £1,200 re-arranged flight Ed got a call from the insurer to say that they had misinformed him and that he was only covered for European travel after all, but it was ok because he could still take the flight. And they would bill him for it later. And the medical expenses. Ed not happy. At all. Despite using all the know-how gleaned from one of his all time favourite reads- 'How to Complain Effectively'- the bastards wouldn't budge. Ed's response was to get the same flight for £450 himself and write a 'very strongly worded' letter straight to the CEO and I'm pleased to say that it worked and he got his money back- all's well that ends well.

In the meanwhile Climbing Tom had turned up in Singapore 4 hours after his flight to India had left! While waiting for his rearranged flight a couple of days later there was a great chance to catch up with him on all his travelling tales and what everyone's up to back home before waving off my last visitor for a while.

Since then I've finally been paid a decent chunk and have had the opportunity to pay down a few debts, or to buy a motorbike and gear. If I pass my test tomorrow I pick up my beautiful Kawasaki KRR on Friday! Mmmmm…

Other than that I've just returned from a long weekend in Kuta, Lombok (the island next to Bali). The place is heaven- beautiful weather, friendly people, cheap as chips, chilled to the max and best of all- incredible surf. I took a board that I bought over here six months back and have yet to use and was intensely looking forward to seeing if I could handle it- I'm pleased to say I can. It was definitely the best surfing I've done- pristine 5/6ft waves and the ability to catch them despite almost a year off. I was also searching for some land to buy which involved some epic motorbike rides around the island (Ed, Gaz, Nick- you know what I mean) but didn't find any that did it for me. I'll be back for another look somewhere else since I've now got this dream in my head of a big patch of land miles from anywhere with a cheap local villa on it where I can go with my friends to play at surfing, sailing, riding and partying- live the dream.

Standby for news of biking success- no news means failure and no bike until late January I expect- boo!

Summary:

• Visits from Ed, Issy, Justin and Tom
• Trips to Thailand and Indonesia
• Been paid
• Bought a bike, but yet to pass my test