Our first target this morning was to Kaosan Rd’s travel agents. As with HK, our first priority was getting out. And once again, to our delight, there were seats on the next available flight, Biman’s Monday evening flight. At one time, flying Biman would have been something we would have gone to some pain + expense to avoid, but having heard rather better reports of it recently, we had no objection. Indeed, since it meant we could fly to Dacca, + was, incidentally, the cheapest airline into + out of Burma, there was a positive preference. Compared prices in a couple of places, eventually getting the best deal in our old friend’s, Ronny’s: $132 each, for Bangkok, Rangoon, Dacca, Calcutta. The problem was we were very pushed for time in getting our Burmese visa (well, what do you know?) today being Friday. So it was a quick gallop to the bank to obtain enough money to pay for the ticket + visa, + onto the bus to go all the way to the other side of town to the Burmese embassy.
Finding the place was not too difficult, + to our surprise, they were polite + helpful. Visa application accepted OK, passports ready on Monday – once again, we would have the somewhat nerve-wracking experience of having to collect our vital documents of travel just before flying out.
Our next stop was at the American Express office once more, in search of some mail – fortunately we arrived 5 mins before they shut for lunch. We gave our names + they dutifully searched thro’ the respective piles for us, only to inform us we had nothing. I was almost sure I had spotted Val’s name on a letter as the pile had flicked thro’ her fingers, so asked if it could be checked again. She handed the pile over, + I found I had been right. The confusion came about because they stapled together all letters to one person, so ours were together, with the post-card I had written to the manager, asking for our mail to be held, on top, hiding the rest. Again, it was a pleasing little pile, about 6 letters, plus a larger package from Pete. The only disappointment was that they had lost a parcel to me, probably one containing more mail from Mum. They had a note in the pile of mail saying they should have it, but even after a lengthy search, no parcel appeared, so we had to be satisfied with what we had. There were one each from our Mums, one from Marion, one from Bruce, + one from Mike Moore, as well as Pete’s package, containing an enormously long letter, begun almost a year ago, as well as a cassette tape.
We went across the road to the British Council to sit in comfort to read them. A pleasing collection – no startling news, + what there was was out of date, but good anyway. Pete’s letter was not one of his best – a bit too rambling + disjointed, but he still does well even when not on top form. And then, back in our room, we were able to hear the rest of it with the tape (to our delight, our Chinese mains adaptor for the tape-player worked, even tho’ it had to be taped in.) The tape was rather more disappointing, however – of poor quality, in terms of recording, + stilted + halting. We were introduced to Sheina, Pete’s girlfriend, or, as she referred to herself, his “newly-acquired sex-life.” I don’t think she could really be blamed for the quality of the tape tho’ – I reckon that really they just weren’t in the mood. It was also a C90, a lot to fill in on one day. But inspired sufficiently to reply, we went out to buy a blank tape to record a reply. (While out, we indulged in purchasing a new tape too, a “Who” compilation.) And, come evening, we got to work ourselves. Alright too, I think.
Once again, a hymn to the vital attractiveness of receiving mail, and connecting once again with the outside world, still remarkably going about its business even while we wrestle with a whole other reality.
