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A tribute to Colin Moore  Colin on the Jurassic Coast Path One of the most rewarding experiences that life has in store for us is when we meet someone with whom we feel an instant connection, then get to know each other better and develop a relationship that enriches our time on this planet. The flipside occurs when that person is gone, leaving a big hole in your life. So it was for me with Colin Moore. I met Colin in Caracas, Venezuela, in 1978 when I arrived to work as an English teacher at the British Institute. Colin worked there in an administrative position, and I was instantly impressed by this affable Scotsman who spoke fluent Spanish (or should I say Venezuelan, which is a bit different) without a trace of a Scottish accent.  A classic Colin Moore creation I soon found out that he was also a very accomplished guitarist, innovative artist and gifted photographer. I still remember a set of black-and-white portraits he took (and developed himself) of the weather-beaten faces of people in an Andean village where he went to live for a while. Colin was one of those rare people – a polymath. Venezuela was a very different place in those days compared to the sorry state it is in today, and although life in Caracas was speedy and sometimes stressful, the city had an ace up its sleeve in its proximity to some fabulous Caribbean beaches. Colin and I and other friends would spend each week deciding which beach to go to at the weekend, then as early as possible on Friday afternoon we would pack our cars (or jeep in Colin’s case) with ice boxes, tents, hammocks, beach games and samples of substances from neighbouring Colombia, then head out for destinations like Choroni, Morrocoy, or La Sabana for a weekend of pure fun, finally heading back to the city on Sunday evening, pouting all the way, usually in a traffic jam.  Colin's studio in Highgate Eventually we both moved on but met up again in London in the mid-1980s when I lived in Kentish Town and Colin bought an artist’s studio in nearby Highgate. He was earning pots of money as a “rebrander” with a top design company, flitting off to God-knows-where to convince the locals that his sketch for their new logo was the way to go. I taught English in a school near Piccadilly Circus, but as with many English teachers, the travel bug was too strong for me to resist so I got a teaching job in Thailand, where I’ve been ever since. Colin came to visit once when his company was vying for a design contract for the new Skytrain in Bangkok, and I crashed out on his sofabed in Highgate several times while teaching summer school at University College London.  Besides being an all-round great guy, Colin produced a memorable book, Propaganda Prints – the History of Art in the Service of Social and Political Change. He also provided mural artwork for Guys Hospital in London and for the Hilton Hotel in Bournemouth, as well as paintings and prints for cabins and public spaces on the SAGA cruise ship Spirit of Adventure. His website, colinmoore.uk.com, stands as testimony to his prodigious talent.  Col's colours The last few times I saw Col was at his cosy hideaway in Chaldon Herring, a picture-postcard village in Dorset just a stone’s throw from the Jurassic Coast Path, a World Heritage Site. We would go for bracing walks along the windy clifftops, then return to his snug abode for scrumptious meals and scintillating conversation. I will go there once more next week, along with a small army of others who came under Colin’s spell, to pay my respects and give thanks to whoever runs this show for allowing our paths to cross.  Jurassic Coast abstract
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...(yes, you know the rest)...but it pours. After months of few publications, suddenly it's all happening, so I'm catching up by posting PDFs of three recently published stories on my publications page. They are: – Delve into Thai rice culture – Teak of the town – Thailand's 'Lost Kingdom' (of Wiang Kum Kam) Enjoy! The Covid pandemic from 2020 to 2022 not only wiped out millions of lives but it also brought an abrupt halt to the livelihoods of many people, myself included. Suddenly, during global lockdown, there was no demand for a travel writer, quite simply because nobody was travelling.
Now, over a year after the worst of the pandemic has passed, I’m finally beginning to pick up the pieces and get my stories published again. There are still lots of holes in my client list that used to be occupied by guidebook publishers, inflight magazines and the like, but a few have survived and I’m going to post some recently published stories on my ‘peridoicals’ page. These are: Teak Trails (Fah Thai magazine, September 2023). An overview of the teak boom that took place around Chiang Mai in the late 19th century and buildings that date back to that era. A Mindfulness Journey (South China Morning Post, October 2023). A tour of four temples in Chiang Mai that offer meditation courses ranging from one to 26 days. Conquering Doi Luang Chiang Dao (Fah Thai magazine, November 2023). An account of a trek to the summit of Doi Luang Chiang Dao, arguably the most enjoyable hike in Thailand. Now that my novel Teak Lord is flying off the shelves of bookshops and zipping sightlessly into Kindles and other e-readers, I feel it's time to offer a bit of insight to the background of the book. For that reason, I'll be posting a few short articles that go behind the scenes of the novel, beginning with Tracking the Teak Lord – Part one: the tree, the history and the characters.
Venerating Mae Phosop It was one of those magical evenings that happen once in a while – a balmy evening at the height of the rainy season (but no rain!), in an idyllic location, with a heartfelt performance from a group of talented actors and dancers. As I had recently written a story for the South China Morning Post about rice farming in Thailand and the importance of Mae Phosop, the Rice Goddess, I was curious to see how she was portrayed. She appeared as a longhaired, attractive woman dressed in a gold, satin dress, clutching a sheaf of rice stalks and attended by a group of long-eared nymphs. The dance was a wonderful example of how performance art keeps Thai traditions alive. Fortunately, the Goddess has been kind to us this year, and whatever catastrophes may occur in the coming months, at least we will not go hungry. Will weed be fully legalized? Thailand has attracted global attention through its recent delisting of cannabis as a narcotic, which came into effect on 9 June 2022. The country has also been buzzing, and I wrote about how cannabis is being used in cafes, restaurants, spas and clinics in my hometown of Chiang Mai for the South China Morning Post, which you can read here. From the use of terms like ‘delisted’, ‘decriminalized’ and ‘legalized’, many people understand that cannabis can now be used freely. However, the government has stated that the only legitimate use is medicinal, and that levels of THC in the plant must be less than 0.2%, which won’t get anyone high. In the couple of weeks since the delisting announcement, this story has changed day by day, and no doubt there will be further surprising announcements. On the road from Mandalay Win Win “It’s a win-win situation;” joked motorbike rider Win Win as we shook hands on our deal, “you take picture of beautiful Burma and I buy medicine to make my mother well”.
And that’s pretty much how it turned out, apart from losing Win Win at critical moments of the trip. He had a maddening habit of forgetting when he was supposed to pick me up, leaving me fuming at times when I thought he had abandoned me altogether. We were standing on the steps of the 79 Living Hotel in Mandalay, and after some friendly haggling, we agreed that I would give Win Win eighty US dollars and he would take me everywhere I wanted to go on his motorbike for the next three days. My hitlist included the ancient cities around Mandalay, the hill station of Pyin Oo Lwin to the east and the cave temples at Po Win Taung, way out west, and Win Win knew them all, so off we went. A review of the novel Bangkok Wakes to Rain  Everybody knows that Bangkok will drown one day. It sits a precarious 1.5 metres above sea level, which continues to rise steadily due to climate change, while the city is sinking under the weight of its concrete jungle by a few centimetres each year. Some give it ten years, others fifteen. For the city’s 10 million or so inhabitants, this is a cause for concern, and the government’s efforts to stave off the inevitable with multi-million dollar flood barriers have all the pathos of a madman trying to hold back the tide.
The scenario is ripe for a dystopian novel, which Pitchaya Sudbanthad has provided in the form of Bangkok Wakes to Rain. This wildly ambitious debut novel jumps back and forth through the city’s history from the mid-19th to the mid-21st century, and by the end all that remains of the former capital are the tops of the tallest skyscrapers, with floodwaters splashing at their windows.  One of the many reasons that I love living in Chiang Mai is the nearby presence of Doi Suthep, the city’s ‘guardian mountain’, which rises about 1600 metres above sea level. The most popular place on the mountain is the temple called Wat Phra That Doi Suthep, which sits at an elevation of around 1300 metres and on a clear day offers sweeping views of the city and valley below.  While this temple is one of the must-see sights of Chiang Mai for visitors, there’s a place I much prefer to go to enjoy the mountain’s tranquil, natural surroundings. It’s a trail that leads up the mountain about 300 metres, taking about an hour, and ends at a dramatic waterfall that runs all year. I never fail to finish that walk in a better mood than I started.
I recently went on a trip to the Myeik (aka Mergui) Archipelago, in the Andaman Sea off the south coast of Myanmar (Burma). It's a place I had long wanted to visit, ever since reading Siamese White by Maurice Collis (check it out—a great read!). I spent five days in the company of a group of adventurous travellers, cruising around the archipelago, which consists of over 800 islands, mostly uninhabited. It wasn't a perfect voyage, due largely to stormy weather, as it was the beginning of the monsoon season, but it was a wonderful break from work and my growing dependence on electronic gadgets—phone, laptop etc. I had a great time photographing deserted beaches, villages of Moken people (sea nomads) and, of course, stormy weather. A story of mine about the archipelago will appear in the July/August issue of Fah Thai, Bangkok Airways inflight magazine, so if you happen to be on one of their flights in that time, look out for it. In the meantime, here's a small selection of images from my trip to give you a taste of this magical place.  Just one of the many beautiful islands in the Myeik Archipelago  Colourful rocks and clear waters  Oriental small-clawed otters playing on the beach  Kayaking round a deserted island  Travel companions on the Sea Gipsy  Moken children  Moken man thatching a hut in the pouring rain  Moken woman repairing a dugout canoe  Flaring sunset in the archipelago |
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Ron Emmonsis a British writer and photographer based in Chiang Mai, Thailand. Categories
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