danploy.com - Biography

On this page you can read about Ploy and myself, our lives before and after we met, how we met, our travels together, the countries we have lived in, our families, our cars, our houses and the things we like and dislike.

Who am I?

I was born in Portsmouth on the south coast of England at lunchtime on 7th November, 1957, the same day as the Museum of Modern Art was opened in New York in 1929. As my father was in the REME, (Royal

Electrical and Mechanical Engineers), division of the British Army he was away a lot when I was young and we moved house a few times as we stayed in tied housing. Most of my early years were spent in a small town in England called Liphook and in my later to teen years we moved back to Portsmouth to live with my mother's parents. All of my interest at school was in science, but I left school at 16, excited by the prospect of doing real work and earning money, (I had been made aware of the advantages of having a salary through a Saturday morning job in a bakery cleaning the huge mixing machines and stamping on cockroaches). I left school with 7 'O' levels, all science except for one English Language and a Grade 4 'CSE' in Spanish, (I got my astronomy 'O' level through my own study a year early), and started work as an apprentice electronic engineer working on merchant marine radar; electronics is the field I have now worked in all my life. Dreams of becoming an astronomer, my childhood passion, were effectively dashed by this move as I was never to go back and do a degree until my recent Open University studies in Art History. I have been married twice, my first wife was from the UK whilst my second wife is from Thailand and we have now been blissfully married for over 8 years. I initially worked for various electronics companies, large and small, and also spent 11 years running my own company, successfully at first, although latterly it was to end in failure. I then returned to employment, met my second wife, we emigrated to Singapore where we lived for nearly three years before emigrating to Canada where we lived for a further three years. We have now live in Saraburi, Thailand where we run our own electronics company.

My Mum and Dad

I never felt particularly close to my Mum and Dad, there was not a lot of hugging or use of the word 'love' except in birthday cards, but they were always there when I needed them and I never found it difficult to talk to them about anything.

I miss them a lot now, especially as my life has changed so much. They both died before I divorced and they probably already sensed that all was not right between me and my first wife and knew there was something unfulfilled that I had to do. They would be so happy to see how Ploy has changed me, mellowed me, stood up for me and how she made me do things I thought were impossible before and they would be ecstatic over my achievement of the art history degree. I particularly miss my Mum because of our shared love of opera. How my Dad tolerated my Mum and I listening to a newly purchased scratchy recording of some long dead tenor that we were playing somewhat loudly for hour upon hour I will never know.

I realised writing this that I actually knew very little about my parents. Luckily my mother had kept a few old photographs and from the few snippets of information I remembered I was able to piece together some sort of story.

Both my Mum and Dad were born in the same year, 1930. I have no photographs of my Dad when he was a baby, but I do have one of my Mum when she was 6 weeks old: amazing to think this photograph is over 80 years old. The other photograph on the left I also assume, because of the clothes, to be her and her Mum.

My Dad's family were Scottish and I have a record of my Dad being confirmed at Holy Trinity church in Edinburgh when he was fifteen years old. I have some faint recollection that this would become an issue when they married as they married in a registry office, (my mother was not christened I seem to remember), and later when I arrived they did not have me christened either. My mother never attended church other than for sight seeing. My father used to sing in the church choir and would often mention this when my Mum and me were playing our opera.

They married on 18th April 1955 in Portsmouth Register Office. My fathers job was Progress Chaser at an Aircraft Factory and my mothers was a Factory Hand in a rubber factory, a job I know she hated.

They were both living in Portsmouth then, my Dad in Wallington Rd, Copnor and my Mum in Gruneisen Rd, Stamshaw. Both my Mum and Dad's fathers were in the Navy, my mother's Dad listed as a pensioned Able Seaman and my Dad's father as a skilled labourer. The small photograph of my father on the right is said to have been at Hayling Island (a resort island next to Portsmouth) in June 1954, presumably taken by my Mum whilst they were courting.

Maybe because my father was away a lot when I was young we were never what you would call close. Yet as an engineer, initially in the army and then after his commission ended, with the School of Electrical and Mechanical Engineers (SEME) as a civilian instructor, you would think there was some common ground. While I was still living at home, we certainly spent a lot of time on maintaining our cars, (many a cold winter Sunday morning changing a wheel bearing or brake shoe), but once I moved away from home I never had the common ground I did with my mother, namely opera. My Dad joined the British Army on 8th September 1948 when he was just under 18 years of age and he was discharged on 30th April 1970, after a commission of 21 years, 235 days. Despite the lack of closeness I was proud of my Dad. He had a quiet intelligence and I wish he had done more with his life. I get the feeling that his reluctance to put himself forward meant that he was overlooked for promotions that instead went to less accomplished colleagues.

His commission included detachments in Borneo, Malaysia, Germany and Aden. The photograph on the right is annotated on the back with the names of all the soldiers in the

photograph (and their nicknames). It was taken in Ellesmere, Shropshire but unfortunately is not dated. The names are: Back Row left to right; Gardener (Digger), Walulate (Bill), Robb (Jock), Halls (Sgt. Shoder), Perring (GooGoo), Buffy (Anything), My Dad, HurrWood (Nasher): Front Row left to right; Stagg (Eric), Souher (George), Kimby (Doug), Steadman (Larry), Edwards (Anything), the latter two also known as Taffi.

I am sure my father enjoyed the army and at his funeral many ex-colleagues, many of which my Mum only knew by name, turned up. If it wasn't for the time he spent away, which I know he hated, he might have extended his commission. I would have been thirteen years old when he left the army, and I don't remember it being a great event: but then my parents often kept things from me, they only told me of my Dad's cancer more than one year after he was diagnosed.

One of the best things I ever did for my Mum was to buy her tickets to see Turandot in London with Gwynth Jones and Franco Bonisolli. It took a lot to get my Mum to go, (she felt out of sorts being with the 'hob knobs' as she put it), but once there she was genuinely very excited. We went back a couple of times more, (I remember Otello with Vladimir Atlantov and I think an Il Travatore where we had the second stand in tenor as the first two were both ill - not what you want to hear at those prices in that opera), but nothing matched that first visit.

Our first real family holiday together was to Malta, I think the first time either I or my Mum had been abroad. We went at Christmas which was unusual because Christmas was quite an event for us, I never really knew what prompted my Mum to give in and travel. Also my Mum looked after her Mum and Dad, (we effectively were staying in their house although they largely confined themselves to the front room), which restricted the opportunities to travel. I do remember going camping with my Dad at Seaview on the Isle of Wight for a week. I had a fantastic time, (and I think he did too). After that trip to Malta I think my Mum got the travel bug and until he was too ill to travel they visited Germany, (with me and my first wife), Verona in Italy (where my Dad had to endure yet more opera), and Cornwall, but never anywhere further afield although I know they planned to.

I always felt there was a certain loneliness about my Dad, I think he would have liked more children, (my mother was told she should not have any children because of her congenital heart problem but they still had me against doctor's orders), and although happy amongst family and people, and a great traveller, I think it is from him I get my comfort in being alone. I remember after he retired he drove up to Scotland by himself to visit old friends and family, planning the trip like a military exercise. He came back rejuvenated and full of stories.

The photograph of my Mum in the garden was taken in our house in Talbot Rd. Southsea in August 1978. This was after I left school and at a guess I think I was now living away from home in Essex. My Mum loved her garden although she had the grass concreted over and restricted herself to two flower beds. Her garden was a real splash of colour in the summer. Late in life my Mum and Dad moved out of Talbot Rd. and into a small apartment in Cosham, Portsmouth. The 3 bedroom house was proving difficult to maintain for them, (they annually painted the entire exterior of the house by themselves whether it needed doing or not, with my Mum doing the high bits because my Dad was afraid of heights). I think my Mum hated the apartment, (she always protected her privacy), and her garden was just a small patch outside. Both my mother and father died in that apartment.

My Early Life

I remember only a little about my early life. I was told we moved quite a lot, Portsmouth, Scotland, Leigh Park, (near Portsmouth). The first house I have firm memories of was in Liphook, then a sleepy village, and my first school was Bramshott school, a small country primary school. The photograph on the left is my

class, when I was 6 year's old: I am third in from the left in the middle row. I have very fond memories of Liphook, the bluebell wood where I would go walking with my Dad, running down to the local newsagent to get the latest issues of the Beano and Dandy comic, the school Christmas dinner where I cried all the time, (I have no idea why, even the jelly and icecream did not console me); the time I was so late from school, (because I was helping a friend find his lost school handout in the woods), my Mum was crying when I got in and the police had been called, (it didn't seem that late to me); the bee's nest at the bottom of the garden, the trip to Portsmouth to see my grandparents in our Ford Prefect car and so many other things.

I have vague recollections of Leigh Park. I do not remember the house, except it was a fairly drab council house situated on a U-shaped road (I remember I rode my bike, complete with stabilisers, out onto the main road once and nearly got killed riding out in front of a car. Everyone came out their houses to look such was the screech of the tyres). My Dad had built a sandpit in the large garden and there was also a swing where I would sit for hours singing something or other.

One reason for those trips to Portsmouth was to see my grandparents. We went to see my father's parents every Sunday as far as I can remember, at least while my grandfather was alive. Later the visits for my Mum became rarer, eventually just being for Christmas. I do still remember their dog, a poodle called Pixie, the piano where I learned the opening bars of 'Danny Boy' (inevitably), and my grandfather playing on the lawn with me, (they had lawn, we had grass). The photograph of me with my Grandad and my beloved Lego was taken in the summer of 1963 when I was five years old.

I don't know why I became fascinated by astronomy but I do remember my parents buying me a small refracting telescope for my fourth or fifth birthday, and by my early teens I was even considering doing the O-level in it, (I did end up doing it a year early). My parent spoke with my then form teacher to ask if I could take the 'O' level then when I would have been twelve and I think the youngest person in the UK to pass (assuming I did). However the teacher put a condition on me being able to take it - I had to come in the first three or five (I forget) of the class which, to date, I always did. That year I dropped to twenty something and he didn't let me take it. I don't remember consciously flunking the exams and maybe the pressure got to me, (although I never really suffered from exam nerves), but maybe it was an early sign of the rebelliousness that would later emerge in my working life.

I met Patrick Moore and appeared in a television program with him.

But leaving school at sixteen finished the dream, and perhaps it wasn't meant to be. I did apply for a job as a technician in the Australian Observatory which may have put me back on track, but they didn't even reply, and occasionally my company came across applications that roused my interest again, (like a photon counting camera). But I did go to Cornwall to see the total eclipse, I saw Bennett's comet and Halley's comet, and spent many a freezing night on my back in a field observing meteors and I don't think research was really for me.

I only ever represented my school at one event, swimming. I was never an exceptional swimmer, but I was competent

and we won a cup. I was always a bit of a loner and was very reluctant to be pulled into 'team' events, but I still I do still look back with some pride at this high point in my sporting career. We had a small swimming pool at the school and one year, for some reason I think in the winter, the school conscripted us into doing some swim for charity. I think I got two names on my sponsor form, my Mum and Dad, which was a shame as I swam 200 lengths without stopping and could easily have swam all day but everyone wanted to leave; I don;t my Mum and Dad could had afforded more. At assembly the next day although most got mentions for their efforts I didn't get one word. I caught that disease from my Dad, although in my case it was my stroppiness that prevent getting any recognition in life. I had deemed this charity event worthless and got the minimum sponsors to avoid detention but then swam twice as far as the rest combined just to show them. Although, show them what exactly I am unsure of today and probably was then too.

It was possible that I could have done something in sport, but that 'school representation' thing stopped me from putting myself forward for anything. I played football until it was too dark to see the ball and swam in the sea from dawn to dusk from April to October. I was passable at all sports and quite good at others although I hated hockey. I was an instinctive goalkeeper with lightning reactions but only ever got to play reserve to the school second team one very wet and miserable day. Now I occasionally swim and get tired after a few strokes. This after a doctor once measured my chest expansion in a medical and said it was the same as a professional athlete. Ah! What might have been. I left school at 16, the school was changing to comprehensive for the A-level stream and a number of teachers, including all my favourite ones, were leaving. I remember two teachers in particular at my school,

Mr Owen the Chemistry teacher who ran a chemistry club after school where I would spend hours making chromatograms and Eglob, or Mr Bolge, the Maths teacher. Eglob was a real eccentric, I remember he didn't talk to me for about a week because we had played football on his beloved hockey field, but he was a great maths teacher. He was unfortunate enough to take the first stream of the 'new mathematics', which despite his best efforts I am sure held me back from being really good at maths: at college I had to re-learn maths and this always put me on the back foot. What moron introduced this mathematics I wonder. I have never had any use for sets and Venn diagrams but I use calculus regularly.

After leaving school I got a job at the Admiralty Surface Weapons Establishment at Eastney in Portsmouth, effectively an apprenticeship. One of the tasks in my first job was to measure the performance of merchant marine radar and one part of this involved a trip to the sandbanks near the entrance of Langstone harbour in Portsmouth. When the tide was out and the banks were exposed two people would go out there armed with radar reflectors and a walky-talky and under instruction from the radar operator at base wander around whilst the radar performance was measured. During the summer this was an enjoyable experience but it was less so during the winter. On one particular day in February our boat engine failed, but intrepid as always, I said, lets row, it's not far. However the banks were not exposed for long and rowing took us longer of course, so by the time we got there the tide had already turned. As the tide started covering the bank the measurements continued until eventually, unnoticed, our boat floated away. I swam to retrieve it, (at this time of the year 20 minutes in the water should be enough to see you off). When it floated away for the second time I nearly didn't get it back and fell exhausted into the boat. Base kept giving us instructions, but all of this escapade was curtailed when we were visited by a coastguard helicoptor who kindly gave us a lift back to shore. All very exciting. I actually had the afternoon off work to go to a concert, (Robin Trower I think), in London and I remember telling my Mum as I quickly changed clothes at home, "I might be on the news tonight, I got rescued by helicoptor today". You can imagine her reaction.

There was only one person I have had a real crush on in my youth and that is the actress Felicity Kendal: certainly she is the only one that I ever wrote to, a long personal letter telling of how I watched her on TV and had just been to see her in a play in London, (which to be frank was a little boring). I suppose she must have been in a committed relationship at the time and later had lost my address. Why else could she have refused a real ale drinking, astronomy loving, cricket infatuated, spotty youth of seventeen? I did get a signed photo though. My Mum told me 'that woman would eat you alive', something I think I was willing to endure without fully knowing what she meant.

I never had a girlfriend until I was sixteen, Sally from Leicester that I met when she was on holiday in Portsmouth. That never really went anywhere and neither did Kim Parrott from college: I never even dated her, and before I had a chance to do anything, (assuming I would have), she went and married her university tutor who was obscenely older than her, (by about seven years). found talking to girls difficult but I really had a crush on her although I need meet her once again a couple of years later and she had gone downhill appreciably in just that short time - undoubtably due to that bastard she married.

Marriage for the second time

I think I fell in love with Ploy at first sight, (she did not with me she tells me!). We have been together over eight years now and this relatively short time has been a microcosm of a whole life together, so much time apart, we bought two houses, we renovated two houses, we sold two houses, she came to the UK for two years with all the visa traumas that go with that move for a Thai person, (and her prospective husband), and then our emigration to Singapore, to Canada, and eventually Thailand. We have grown so close to each other now we know exactly what the other is going to do without asking: we have laughed (a lot) and cried (a little). When I met Ploy in

Singapore in February 2001, I had just broken up from my first (English) wife and was renting a single room in a house owned by a couple young enough to be my children, a situation brought about more by laziness than financial considerations. I immediately went to Thailand so see her again, a date that also coincided with her birthday.

She moved to a better apartment and we bought some new furniture for it. I moved out of my room and rented a nice 2 bedroom apartment and bought new furniture for it too. I started washing again and she bought new clothes for me. I started losing weight, (through choice, I was never fat, but I was carrying excess baggage), and I joined a health club, although after fifteen minutes on the bicycle I then sat in the sauna for an hour. After three more visits during that year on the fourth, (which also coincided with my birthday), we decided to apply for a visitor visa for her to see the UK and I duly arrived in Thailand with a suitcase full of evidence. We got the visitor visa, (after one of the most stressful mornings of my life during the interview, followed by one of the most exhilarating afternoons once we were told we had got it), and she came to stay for three weeks over Christmas 2001. After that we decided that we wanted to stay together and we applied again for another visitor visa, this time its issue a formality. Whilst here on the visitor visa we decided to get married and we married at Southampton registry office on 20th April 2002 in front of a few friends. Ploy quickly got bored staying at home, (well she never really stayed at home as such, but she wanted to do something with more purpose), and she started English and Computing lessons and took a part time job at a sweet factory and then a cosmetic factory. She then found out about a a full time job in Alton, about 50km from where we lived and travelled back and forward from there every day. If I hadn't already realised her strength and independance I realised it then. We queued at Croydon Immigration Centre to get her FLR and ILR visas. We moved from the apartment and bought a run down house, (we had saved her wages from her job and that became the deposit on our house), and then spent enormous energy redecorating it, before a chance came to move to Singapore which we did on February 24th 2004. Ploy spent a lot of this time in Thailand where she bought some land, a house, a car and started two businesses. Getting increasingly frustrated with my job and encouraged by Ploy we emigrated to Canada on the back of a lucrative new job offer and soon bought yet another run down house which we spent a lot of money and effort renovating only to put it up for sale the day we finished the renovations. And that was so we could move to Thailand where we had already got a house and that is where we are now.

I read the advertisement, Extras wanted for a movie to be made in Ealing Studios, London, must speak Thai'. I asked Ploy, "Do you want to be a movie star?" and I got the oft said reply, "Why not?". So I sent away a brief c.v. and a photo. I had forgotten all about it but I got a phone call late one Friday afternoon; could Ploy come up to Ealing on Monday for one week. She said yes straight away. We had to be at the studio by 6.00a.m., so we left at 4.00a.m. for the drive to London. Ealing studios looked a rather faded lot, but the history is of course famous, Alex Guiness, Alistair Sim, Peter Sellars, etc. etc. etc. I dropped her off at the studio, and spoke to one of the people there. "Don't worry, she'll be fine, we'll take care of her. Come and pick her up at about 6.00p.m." Then it dawned on me, did I have to drive everyday up to London and back, a good 90

minute drive each way? The following week I was going to Taiwan on business and I had to get a visa organized. I also wanted Ploy to come with me so I had to get a visa for her too. Anyway, as it turned out, I spent a lot of time travelling between Southampton and London, I stayed with Ploy in some 'cheap' run down London hotels as she had to start work so early every day, I did get the visas and we left for Taiwan the following week, and my wife is now a movie star. The movie was, 'Bridget Jones, Edge of Reason', and if you look carefully you can see her in the Thai jail scene, behind the bars on the left. The unknown in the photo is Renee Zellwegger who I never got to meet personally.

Of course we have been many times together to Thailand, but one visit I remember particularly fondly. It was for three weeks and I stayed in Ploy's apartment in Bangkok. Towards the end of my visit it was my birthday. Thai's don't worry much about birthdays, there was no heap of presents waiting at the bottom of the bed for me, just a kiss and a whispered 'Suk san wan gert' (Happy birthday). However at night I was determined we should go out, dancing maybe at Spassos'? But Ploy had other ideas. Near her apartment was a favourite restaurant and bakery that we often frequented. Ploy spent the day going to a beauty salon, and night time she took me to this restaurant. She had ordered everything that I like, especially the 'Poo Pad Pong galee', (Crab in a curry sauce), and the evening finished off with a birthday cake she had ordered, with the the only other table in the restaurant joining in the staff in singing a fractured 'Happy Birthday'. It was that night that cemented in my mind that Ploy was to be my future, and that Christmas she was visiting the U.K. In April we were married.

We went out for a BBQ meal in Thailand, not my favourite but Ploy likes it and at 49 baht/person how can you complain. Ploy spoke to our very cute waitress who was studying computing at Saraburi technical college. Her father had died when she was young and her mother and sister fight to make ends meet. She studies during the daytime and works at the BBQ restaurant at night until 11p.m.: today was her first day. Ploy then gives her 200 baht and her business card. 200 baht is a lot of money in Saraburi, a tip would have been 20 baht. Ploy wanted her to buy new shoes as the flip-flops she was wearing would soon give her a problem walking for so long: and the business card, well that was for her to call if she has

a problem as Ploy may have some work for her in her business. Ploy always admires people that do not take the 'easy option', for this girl probably marrying or working in a bar. For my part I said I would be quite willing to adopt her but apparently the 200 baht will suffice. Oh well!

While driving in the car together Ploy mentioned for my next birthday she would like us to take out, (and pay for!), some disadvantaged children who could otherwise not afford to do so. She said our life is good now and we should do this and the act of doing so, ('tamboon' in Thai, or merit making), will help to ensure we are still happily married to each other when we are re-born.

On our last day Ploy took me to a fortune teller. I had to choose a single leaf from the plants in the garden and from this he proceeded to tell all. Comfortingly I will live to be at least 83, still time to finish that book then. He said I would be very rich by the time I am 52 which would be nice to believe as that is this year, (no sign yet), but he did tell some things like when Ploy and me first met that I fell for her straight away but it took her some time to fall in love with me, which is true, and also the fact I like the sea and boats, (and I wasn't dressed like a pirate at the time), and about the relationship between my mother and me which was true. Anyway he was a very nice man and it always pleasing to have nice things said about you; he said I was very 'jai dee' or 'good hearted'.

My Family

Although I was an only child, that was not through choice: my mother had a 'hole in the heart' which meant that she should not have had children. However my mother and father did risk me, and I suppose having achieved perfection didn't risk anymore. However both my Mum and Dad had more extensive families, My mother had four brothers and three sisters, whilst my father had one sister and two brothers. I saw little of any of my aunts and uncles: my Mum's mother and father lived with us until they died, but I still had little contact with them, we did not eat together and the only vivid memory I still have is kissing them 'goodbye' after they had died, something my mother insisted on me doing. We used to visit my Dad's family every Sunday, something I hated doing only because I had to get dressed up. My Mum later didn't come and it was just me and my Dad that visited every Sunday morning, (the reason my Mum didn't come was never clear to me). The photograph on the left is my two grandmothers together on my Mum and Dad's wedding day, and on the right my Dad and his two brothers.

My two grandfathers were both in the Navy and coincidentally both worked on submarines. My Dad's father won several medals, and my Dad spent quite some time later in his life putting together a sort of memorial collection of them: I am slightly ashamed so say I have no idea what the medals are or even what rank either achieved in the navy.

I only ever saw one of my Mum's brothers once, (Vic I think his name was), and it caused quite a stir. He just knocked at our door one night, having apparently been away for some 20 odd years. He was looking for his mother, who had already died the year before. He was working as a chef on the Isle of Wight. He disappeared again a couple of days later never to be seen again. I never saw anything of the other brothers that I can

remember. The sisters, however, were closer, although they had their ups and downs. Brenda and Babs always seemed close and I think my Mum was closest to Sylvie. Sylvie was the first sister to die: she was always fighting a battle with her weight, and eventually it was her downfall. She did live life to the full though and had four children; all boys.

One of my Dad's brothers (Duncan) and his sister (Joy), lived with their mother until she died when they both went their own way, both in their sixties by then. Duncan was rarely at home on our visits, his work taking him around the world, but his sister, Joy, was often there, as she had been forced to retire as nurse because of a back injury sustained whilst lifting a patient. I almost never saw the the other brother, Alec, or any of his family. Neither Duncan or Joy ever married, so I was seen as the heir in my Grandmother's eyes, so she was always disappointed I never had children.

Once I moved to Singapore the little contact I had with my aunts and uncles previously became even less. We did go to see Duncan on one visit to the UK, but contact is now largely limited to a card or a telephone call at Christmas at most.

My First Marriage

This is the hardest part to write about: my first wife's death in late 2004 still haunts me. Is it guilt? She died of cancer: her brother also died of cancer at 40, so clearly there is a faulty hereditary gene floating around in the family, and if I had still been married to her the outcome would have been the same.

When we separated it came a shock to lot of people, and even most of my own family sided with Hilary. From the outside it would seem that I had left Hilary to go to Ploy but these people did not know we had already been going to marraige counselling and had been sleeping apart for two years. Meeting Ploy was the motivation to do something about the situation instead of letting it drift. I think it was convenient for Hilary to let everyone believe this: she received a massive sympathy vote and I was cast in the role of the unfaithful dirty old man, (I mean a Thai girl, I ask you!).

My marriage was bracketed by relationships with Thai girls: maybe I married too soon on the rebound from Jumpa? But the marriage was happy until the last three or so years. The big mistake was starting the business: Hilary could never come to terms with that and when things went from bad to worse at the end, she didn't cope well and went into a depression. I am not the sort of person who copes well with that ("pull yourself together"), and so that was the beginning of a distancing between us.

I always told her she should have married a bank manager with a steady wage and a nine-to-five job and all of her family agreed with that. But I think, although her life ended too soon, we did have a good life together. That first big cheque from our business, buying a new car, our first house (although we sold that soon after marriage to put the money into the business and for most of our life lived in rented accommodation), our holidays in Cornwall and in New York, the music and the concerts, our eccentric friends in the New Forest, the huge all-night parties we held and she taught me how to cook. I miss her as a friend. What a waste.

My Favourites

Non-favourites

Anything Missing?

Ploy and I have no children of our own. I have spent my life avoiding children despite the fact that my parents always said I was 'good' with them.

But life with Ploy is different, and Asian children are different to the English ones, cuter, better behaved, and with more responsibilities to the parents. We need someone to keep us in our old age! I guess that as we both met quite late (I am 51 and Ploy is 48) that there is not so much chance of it happening now but if it does, well as Ploy says, "everything is 100% now, a baby would make it 120%".

I am a dog person and always have been (except for those rats that pass as dogs that are only fit for the BBQ). I have never owned a dog, my Mum would never let me have one (although I did have a budgie called Sausage that was too lazy to fly and walked everywhere). I was really pleased to find that Ploy also loved dogs. yet we don't have one. Ploy did have a dog for a while in Thailand to keep her company, but she found she was leaving it alone all day whilst she went to work so she gave it to a friend. Without doubt, in the future we will own a dog. The baby and the dog were borrowed from a friend for the purposes of the photographs.

Travels together

When Ploy first came to the U.K. it was for three weeks over Christmas and I wanted to show her as many of my favourite places as I could. We went, of course, to London, and I also booked a trip for us to go to Paris for a couple of days. While in London we happened upon a small fair in Leicester square where Ploy won an enormous Rupert bear which I had to carry around London, including on the underground train and also on the train back to Southampton. I certainly got some strange looks. When we left Singapore we gave Rupert to the baby next door who had already adopted it.

Whilst in London we mostly wandered around the shops, but we did take some time out to go round the London Eye which was very impressive, even to a cynic like me. We were also 'lucky enough to see some snow which is quite rare for the south of England. We visited a friend in Winchester whose children had spent the day making a snowman. However

for Ploy that was enough, sort of 'been there, done that'. She had never shown any inclination to visit a truly snowy country but strangely we now live in Canada so Ploy has now had more then her fill of the white stuff.

The main memory of the trip to Paris was the cold. Although the temperature was hovering around zero there was a biting wind and drizzle which made walking around quite an unpleasant experience, which was a shame. Ploy did indulge herself with lamb though, in the restaurant on the left, she had two main courses and I had one (well part of one), all lamb cooked in different ways. I have never seen lamb in Thailand although I am told it does exist, but it is very expensive so Thais don't eat it.

Ploy and I also did a bit of a road trip around California on the back of business trip I had to make to Las Vegas. We flew from Singapore to Los Angeles, from there drove to Las Vegas, and after my conference we drove back to Los Angeles for a couple of days and then took the Pacific coast Highway 1 up to Monterey and San Francisco. You can read more about that trip here.

As well as extensively travelling throughout Thailand and Singapore (if travel in Singapore can be called extensive), we have also now travelled to a few places within Ontario, Penang and Taiwan. I keep meaning to take her to Japan as I am sure she would love it but the chance has yet to come.

Houses

I have lived in many houses but only three or four have special memories for me. The first was a tied cottage we stayed in in Liphook in Hampshire, U.K., I would have been about 5 or 6 years old at the timeThis wonderful old country house had a cellar and a bee hive in the garden. I loved Liphook then, a sleepy village with a bluebell wood; now it is a suburb of London and has lost all of its character. I used to love the drive down to see my Mum's Mum and Dad in Portsmouth. My Dad owned a rare two-tone blue Ford Prefect which struggled manfully over Portsdown hill: if it was raining the vacuum windscreen wipers slowed to almost stop making us almost blind.

The second house I have fond memories of was a splendidly isolated rented cottage in the New Forest, in a place called East End. I lived there with my first wife for six years: the memories are as much the characters we got to know in the area as the house. The local pub with its all night sessions, the crazy drunken antics of men who should know better (the impromptu naked swimming in the local leisure club swimming pool for example: the manager offered us free drinks and towels if we would retire to bar as we were frightening the children), the all night parties, the free rabbits that greeted you as you came home from work, courtesy of the gamekeeper, the squirrel pie that the pub dreamed up on the menu (and popular it was too amongst the grockles).

The next house was not so much a house as a room, rented from a young couple in Southampton. It was where I moved out to when my first wife and me finally split up. I only lived there for six months: Ploy was coming over to the U.K. so I rented a two bedroom apartment for us before she came. This was the second time that I had lived in a rented room and in some ways, although I hated the more restrictive environment I did like the freedom it gives you. That said the memories of this 'house' are fond because it was a momentous time in my life, a new beginning as they say.

The last house was our last house in the U.K. Ploy and me were married and she wanted us to buy somewhere and not rent (waste of money she kept saying). I was nervous, I hadn't owned a house (or more accurately owned a mortgage), for some 16 years. My company's failure had left me with a bad credit history. Why did I worry, Ploy was here, everything is possible. Of course it all worked out and we soon became proud owners of a very neglected 3 bedroom town house in Southampton. Just over one year later and we were selling it to move to Singapore, but how we worked on that house. "You are an engineer, why pay for someone to do this work?", she gently argued. "Well, I explained, I have not embraced success in such DIY matters in the past". That was an understatement. But try we did and we mastered plastering and re-wiring and laying floors and digging gardens, not without some success. We transformed the house I think we can say, and we were very proud of our work: B&Q were our closest friends. Moving to Singapore should have been such a tear, but with Ploy's encouragement it was just a new adventure, and as our friends drove us to the airport for last time, we left with barely a backward glance.

Transport

I have only ever owned three cars; I feel great loyalty to the car I purchase and hang on to it as long as possible. My first car was a Hillman Minx which I purchased from my aunt, Joy. Throughout its lifetime the car was resprayed, had new engines and gearboxes, and many a frosty day was spent causing considerable damage to my hands replacing various parts on it. By the time I parted

with it, I think it had done at least 150,000 miles. My second car was a complete change, an Opel Manta, so sporty compared with the Hillman and with a vinyl roof and sunroof and its bright bronze colour I thought it really looked the part. This was Opel's answer to the Ford Capri, but I thought much less a boy racers car and much classier. Vauxhall later produced the Mantas and showed what could be done with totally unimaginative styling. For me this was the only Manta worth the name. I used the Manta to travel all over the country when I started my business, but eventually I decided the time had come to give the company a new image and I bought my only new car, a Honda Prelude.

I remember when I test drove

it, when I came back from the run it took two days to wipe the smile from my face. I bought the car in 1989 and it was only when I came here to Singapore that I had to let it go: I sold it for just 80 pounds: by then it had over 300,000 miles on the clock and it still had the all original engine and gearbox. I remember watching them come and collect the car while we were packing everything into boxes: it was strange feeling. I have never been passionate about cars, and there isn't a car that I have really hankered after. When I had the Minx I guess a Rover 3500 would have been nice; when I had the Manta an Opel Monza would have satisfied; and when I had the Prelude, I do remember glimpsing a Honda NSX with some envy. For now I have no car, the public transport in Singapore is so good anyway and cars are very expensive here. Ploy had a Nissan Frontier for our use in Thailand although she has recently given that to her workers and bought a new bright blue Mazda for our own use. And maybe one day we will buy that Jaguar we hired when we returned to the UK for a week?

My first trip to Thailand

My first trip to Thailand was a long time ago. During my first job I started day release classes to study physics and engineering. During lunch I used to buy something to eat and sit in my car listening to the radio. I am unsure now what prompted me but I decided that I had never been on a 'proper' holiday and I had some money in the bank so I should go somewhere. I got hold of some Kuoni travel magazines and over the next few weeks narrowed it down to three possible locations; the Seychelles, the Maldives and Thailand. But Thailand won out, the photo of those two bikini clad Asian girls beckoned to me and I booked my ticket. I was to spend one week in Bangkok and one

week in Pattaya. To date my furthest foray out into the world had been Christmas in Malta with my parents. The week in Bangkok was relatively uneventful (for Thailand). I was staying at the Ambassador hotel in Bangkok: I got very sunburnt sitting by its pool, so badly I had to spend the next day inside the hotel. I found I loved the food; the country fascinated me. I saw the temples and had a body massage. I did like this country! The second week in Pattaya was more of the same, good food, swimming, and I discovered the bars. How enticing they were. Naively I thought the girls that spoke to you were just being friendly. I was to find out how friendly, and two (or maybe three, I forget now) return trips were made to see one girl in particular. Her name was Jumpa and she came from Kong Khen in the north East of Thailand, and on one trip she took me home to meet her parents. That was an experience, they lived in a wooden hut on stilts with no running water, no-one spoke any English, and I was greeted (in a friendly way) with the same fascination as Spock reserves for reptilian aliens. The relationship slowly petered out, this was about 1982 I think, and communication was through letters, not mobile phones.

Regrets

I rather like the apparent Thai attitude of moving on, you can't change what is past: regret is a wasted emotion. Learn by it by all means but then it is time to move on. Despite this ideal two things do nag at the back of my mind:-

My first wife died last year of cancer aged 43. I should have gone back to see her before she died (although there were very complicated reasons why I did not which I may write about one day). But I think I should have just gone.

When my father died my mother told me she had no reason to live anymore. She had a heart disease and needed an operation and she told the doctors she wouldn't have it. She died as a result a year after my father. After she had died, I separated from my first wife, and later met Ploy and moved to Singapore. I so want her to have met Ploy. I should have tried harder to give her a reason to live. I still have a poignant reminder of my mother's expectant death. She always said when she died to look for a box in her apartment: in there were detailed lists of what to do in the event of her death. I still have them.

Becoming a Step-Dad

Tang Mo (Ploy's daughter) has now been going to school in Singapore for over 2 months. With Ploy being in Thailand most of this time it has just been the two of us. The reason for her coming here is clear: Thai schools do not offer the best education whereas schools in Singapore are amongst the best. Ploy has not been close to her daughter, when her first husband re-married she was prohibited access for a number of years and it is only recently, just after I met her that she was allowed access again. However she wants her to have the opportunity to go to university and to see other countries, and her father agreed, so we found an intensive course in Singapore which is designed to 'bridge the gap' between Thai and Singapore schools. The course principally concentrates on English with a little bit of maths and science: in November she will sit an exam which is the entrance exam for Singapore government schools, and from then she will attend a regular school, although some private tuition may still be necessary to bring her up in other fields, such as history and also fill in some remaining gaps on her English.

In the two months she has been here she has been transformed: she is more confident in herself, her English is astonishing, we are able to talk at length on various subjects, yesterday it was poetry, when I also learnt something about Thai poetry (Roi Glawng). And she helps me with my Thai for which she needs the patience of a saint. When she stayed with her father they had a maid, so she did not have to do anything around the house, but she is learning to clean, to iron (I hate ironing so I am pleased to have assistance in that area), to cook, and to eat because she is trying new foods all the time (mostly western). She gets herself up to go to school (I leave earlier for work) and she also gets home before me: by the time I get home she has usually done her homework, and we cook and eat something together, or go out and eat, and maybe watch a movie or she will go and read in her room or e-mail her friends in Thailand. She has not made any real friends here yet, at weekends she stays with me, we shop for food or go swimming, but she seems happy although I worry about it a little. It seems she was the same in Thailand, and actually as an only child, I was much the same. I think when she goes to the government school that will change. The biggest change is in me, perhaps the responsibility is good for me. I can't just do what I want when I want it, a luxury I have had for some time now. Although Mo is very independent, she does seem to enjoy my company, especially as she becomes confident in me, and I feel a sort of pleasurable duty to have to come home promptly and spend time with her.

Mind you I don't think the school is so fond of me: I was talking with Mo's teacher about the government exam and if we might need any supplementary lessons. Of course I know Singapore has embraced the Asian culture of parents expectations of their children where 99.9% is a failure. The teacher did suggest more lessons and mentioned a Chinese student that after being at school between 9 and 4, went home, showered and ate, and then had another 3 hour lesson with another teacher, after which he did his homework (usually at least 2 hours). The weekend were supplemented similarly. "He got over 80% in the exam" she beamed. "Why", I said, the pass mark is 40%. That extra 40% could have been spent, swimming, visiting art galleries, going to concerts and movies, getting a life, thinking". I was lucky I wasn't thrown out of Singapore in hindsight.

My Own Business

I started my own company in 1984. It had become clear to me there was an opportunity to sell products that processed video images in real-time, and my previous companies had decided not to explore that market when I suggested it to them. I don't know why, but looking

back, such a big decision did not seem so big at the time. I had recently bought a house, but the mortgage was not too large and I owned my car: my first wife was working, it was not a large salary, but it would pay for the food and the bills. I

asked the building society if I could withhold paying the mortgage for six months whilst I got the company going and they agreed. I told my bank and they were supportive (I will try not to start a rant about how banks changed in the Thatcher era, from places that nutured, advised and encouraged start-up businesses, to places that avoided 'risk' by refusing unsecured loans to individuals yet were happy to give millions to corrupt governments who allowed their people to starve). I already had some designs, and I started to send out some press releases and build prototypes of my ideas. I wrote for magazines; it gave

some income and was also very good publicity. And soon the telephone started ringing. Then came the first order, from Nuclear Electric, to adapt one of my prototypes for their own use, 130 pounds (Ching!). It soon became my first real order for a product, I was on my way. My wife soon joined the business, I taught her to assemble the products and she became the best electronics technician I ever knew, although she never believed it. Between the two of us we could have conquered the world. The orders kept coming, the articles kept appearing. We seemed to have hit a rich seam. we had ideas. Always ideas. We were going to do a digital effects processor for home video cameras to sell to high street shops. We built a protoype but it never got any further. We started recruiting, we moved to real premises, but then it started to go wrong. The fault was with me. My talent was design, and I also seemed to be able to talk to customers well and, I think, was liked. Most of our customers were engineers, and talking to someone who understood what they wanted was refreshing. But I couldn't keep accepting orders, driving all over the country, from Scotland to Wales, and also designing, without turning down orders; and that I didn't want to do. But it is what I should have done. I liked doing that job, the company was successful, we turned over 300,000 pounds within 2.5 years. But I wanted to be an ICI or IBM. So I recruited, some fairly average engineers, who couldn't do the design I did. So I ended up taking care of them: I became a manager, and then we decided to employ a salesman so I could stay and take care of them. Why couldn't I see it then? But we never pulled ourselves around until right at the end, when we let everyone go, went back to a one man show and tried to start again. But we never recovered, and I went back into employment. I have never enjoyed a job as much as when I was designing and prototyping until midnight or beyond, or driving to Newcastle and back in one day to see a customer, a 2000km round trip, who by the end of the demonstration had brought in the entire development laboratory, such was the novelty of the equipment. The sense of achievement of seeing your products in hospitals, in prestigious companies, on the front of magazines. One day, some eight years after we had started the company, I had a phone call from a ex-customer. They wanted to buy another framestore. The same as the one they already had which they had used, 24 hours a day, for 8 years without ever having a problem with it. Within that company we were famous and I sure the man was slightly in awe of us. Little did he know that the bailiffs were but a few miles away. Ploy thinks I should start again but I have never had the nerve, and anyway that particular opportunity seems to have gone. But there are still the ideas. Maybe, just maybe?