Flying Sporran’s Mid-week Diary-

Been off for a few days with a team from the Crime & Investigation Network.  I cannot talk about the programme. But I can say I rose to the call of duty.

Yes you have guessed it I was in Pattaya where a film crew at a beer bar is as welcome as skunk at a lawn party, or, er, dog in a game of skittles etc.

But not this time. It seems down in Pattaya some people seemed to be queuing up to shake my hand.
One lovely chap who was profusely thanking me for something or other seemed like a good candidate for a short interview.  He was in the real estate business. “Totally straight. Good products” and he knew something about the character(s) I and C & I were interested in.

He sort of agreed. Then he had that ‘Swimming to Cambodia’ moment and the deal was off. It was not because he had been court martialled in the services for ‘robbery’ – more to do with the fact that a big contract was in the offing. So it was off to find someone without a record.

They were even quite charming down at the Pattaya Provincial Court.

The closest I got to agony was having to drive at a very slow pace with my windows open down Soi Yodsak – or Beach Road, Soi 6,  Pattaya’s daytime street of shame. The first time was fine. The retakes were agony.

(Beauty is in the eye of the beholder – TP films)

By the second time a girl was enticing me: “Peter – Come inside please” or something like that. Peter?  I kept my eyes rigidly ahead. Do I have a clone with that name?  Third time, more humiliatingly, the girls we’re calling me Pappa.  I hoped sound was not picking this up.

What the incoming crew was unaware of was that to do the circuit one has to go up a narrow parallel road and this is the haunt of some pretty fearsome lady boys. Soon one was ‘shrieking’ as I passed and lifting up her micro skirt. And I was only driving the Honda – not the now legendary Porsche.

Approaching the producer who was situated some 30 yards before the camera I pleaded ‘Last time?’
Round the corner in the back alley I am sure, as a Pattaya Brit would put it: “One meat and two veg” were waiting.


I’m not sure how all that is going to look. But with the windows open I must have been sweating heavily. Oh dear. On to the Buffalo Bar!

Finally got back yesterday to find that my daughter Annie was waiting, not so much for her Dad, but her Dad’s IPhone. I meanwhile was reeking. I had not been able to change my shirt – for reasons of continuity.

It walked off to the laundry basket by itself.

About the Author

Andrew Drummond

Andrew Drummond is a British independent journalist and occasional television documentary maker. He is a former Fleet Street, London, journalist having worked at the Evening Standard, Daily Mail, Mail on Sunday, News of the World, Observer and The Times.

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