Our last night in Bangkok; and our last night in Thailand. We had been packing for most of the day and were too tired to face the multitudes and fight our way through the streets to a restaurant.
"Why don't we just get room service" said Lidy. "I know," said Russell, "Let's have dinner downstairs at the little cafe near reception?" "That sounds nice." said Lidy.
We left room number 365 and pressed the button to summon the lift. Alighting on the lobby level, we entered the little cafe. Looking around, we noticed we were the only guests.
The two women in the cafe conducted us to a table and left us to consider the menu.
Why is it that whenever one does not have a camera to hand, the most extraordinary things occur?
We ordered our food and settled down with our drinks. You should be able to fill in the blanks by now, Russell had a M _ _ - T _ _ and Lidy had a P _ _ _ C _ _ _ _ _ .
Soon, our entrees arrived. We were only just starting to eat when a crooner, with his guitar slung over his shoulder entered the cafe. We were still the only guests in the cafe, so he came over to our table and started up a conversation. His name was Bill and he asked us where we were from and the usual about where we had been and how we had enjoyed our holiday; and then, he picked up his guitar and said: "I'd like to sing you a song." With that, he launched into one ballad after another, with Lidy and Russell joining in to sing many old favourites. He played our requests and sang a love song duet with Russell to Lidy.
This night was turning out to be very special indeed. But, after about half an hour, our crooner announced he had to leave. He had to go home to his wife and children. He was an immigrant, originally from the Philippines, who had married a Thai girl and settled in Bangkok.
As Bill was leaving, he introduced a young lady to us who had under her arm a violin case. She was formally dressed in a long gown. She couldn't speak much English, but she was an excellent musician. She stood by our table for another half hour while we completed our dinner and brought tears to our eyes with her wonderful violin solo's.
We were touched and pleasantly surprised. What had been intended as a quick meal and early night had become a party with a life of its own and we will have many pleasant memories of this night for years to come.
All good things must come to an end, and so it was this night. We finished dinner, had a couple of Napoleons, coffee; said goodnight to our violin player and our waitresses and headed for the lift, back to the 36th floor and reality.
We leave this magical Thailand tomorrow morning. Now, we DO KNOW how a condemned man feels the night before his execution.
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