Sitting down to write after Christmas I reflected on the festivities, but was disturbed by the rain drizzling down outside in what is actually the dry season, so it seemed more apt to reflect on – well the rain.

 

Monsoon season is one of my daughter’s favourite times of the year in Bangkok. I clearly remember the first downpour as she stripped off and ran through the puddles with glorious gay mad abandon and it is almost the same every time.

 

 

She never tires of it: whether it’s frolicking at school with her bestie, jumping up and down in muddy puddles the look of pure glee on their faces or stripping down to her knickers and literally rolling around in the mud with our neighbour, she loves it. And I absolutely love her fabulous spirit and lust for life, even in the rain.

Even if it is not raining we have fountains, which come on for an hour every Saturday & Sunday evening, which she will happily substitute with unadulterated joy all over her face.

Our first year in Bangkok, the rainy season was, well, not so wet. One of the driest on record it was a disappointment for the muddy puddle monster. This year was a whole different kettle of fish, quite literally. It kicked off with torrential rains all night and we awoke to floods in the moobaan. Our lovely driver arrived with his trousers rolled up, shoes in hand.

We were, however, lucky the floods were only inches high and no one was injured and nothing ruined. As the skies cleared I walked to my meditation class as if I was heading to Glasto, shorts and wellies on. But the flood waters took all day even in the burning sunshine to abate.

The storms were quite something else. All thunder bolt and lightening, very very frightening, Galileo, Galileo, Galileo Figaro magnifico-o-o-o. It was an glorious opportunity for me to break into song on a regular basis – the dramatic effect of course being lost on the kids, unaccustomed as they are the to the intricacies of Queen lyrics.

However they still managed to milk the dramatic effects and use it as a perfect opportunity to join mummy in bed, with the dog and all their teddies. To be fair some nights the storm raged overhead with such fire and brimstone I was glad of their company.

 

 

And then there was the incident when it rained fish. See? I told you it was quite a different kettle of fish. One morning after another deluge and deep puddles all around I discovered a fish swimming in one of the puddles. ‘My god it’s raining fish!’ I thought. ‘The end of the world is nigh!’ and all that. (I am quite the one for catastrophizing when I want be.)

I called our housekeeper to see this biblical event and before I knew it we had launched a rescue attempt as it clearly wasn’t going to fit back through the grates into the drains from whence it came.

Sable was amazing and did not give up as she tried to grab hold of it and throw it in a bucket, whilst her ‘madam’ stood on the sides shrieking like the useless farang I am. Finally we (in the broadest sense of the word, I may have held the bucket) got it into the bucket and I went off for a run.

Only to discover another fish on the other side of the moobaan. ‘Hell’s teeth,’ I thought, ‘How many more?’ This one was flailing in the sunshine, its puddle had evaporated. I sprinted home and grabbed Sabel and another bucket. Cue more girly screams and utter ineptness from me whilst she grabbed the reluctant slippery wriggly beast and put it in another bucket.

When the kids arrived home from school we showed them our catch and I declared we were going to walk to the klong and set them free. It all felt very Deadly 60. As we set off, one of the fish leapt out of the bucket kamikaze style and the wrestle to get it back into the bucket began again, much to the delight of the kids.

We abandoned the walk, drove to the moobaan entrance and walked to the kong with another bucket on top of the first to prevent escapees. The dog must have felt a little short changed on her walk that day. When it actually came to setting them free, I swear the fish faltered in their bucket before launching themselves back into the festering waters. As well they might.

Of course, the rains are not always a cause for light relief. At the beginning of December, which usually marks the beginning of the dry season here in Thailand, heavy rains in the southern provinces caused major flooding affecting over 90,000 people and leading to at least 14 deaths. It was a disaster and not just because it ruined a few holidays. A real disaster and floods around the world continue as global weather systems shift and sadly it is usually the most poor and most disadvantaged that suffer, whilst the privileged few splash around in muddy puddles.