Four things that should never be close together at the same time: she who must be obeyed, her birthday, a handbag shop, and my credit card. It’s a perfect storm for financial ruin and one I have been able to avoid thus far.

But we were in Siam Paragon this week and I had forgotten all about the imminent event that is her birthday (although I do have a reminder on my phone for the actual day, so I can remember to wish her a happy birthday without being prompted).

Being British, I have an inherited PhD in cynicism, a firm belief in the ability of my country to cock things up, a studied absence of patriotism, and I utter a small prayer of gratitude every morning that I no longer have to live in the country of my birth.

I can still remember the queasy feeling in my stomach when Britain won the right to host the next Olympics. The news was marked by Boris in a bus in Beijing, and it was more than a little crap, especially after the carefully crafted mega-show that only a country like China, with an unlimited budget and unlimited people, could manage. This was going to be a disaster.

Both of my regular readers will know that I like my coffee. No surprise (to me) that the first ever post on this blog was in praise of my coffee machine, and both the machine and my love for coffee have made regular appearances over the years.

I enjoy most coffee. My coffee, coffee shop coffee, Thai ancient coffee, Vietnamese coffee, coffee from almost anywhere, apart from that warmed up black gruel that sits festering in hotel breakfast areas and is tipped out of glass pots by disinterested waitresses. But I draw the line at instant coffee. I can’t make a mental connection between my perfectly roasted beans and the pile of dirty gravel that is Nescafe Gold Blend. It’s impossible to comprehend that they come from similar sources and serve the same basic purpose. I’d rather drink badger’s urine than assault my taste buds with the vile crap that is instant coffee. My default response when offered a sachet of this muck is to throw it in the nearest wastebasket (or sell it to a passing beggar); but no longer. I have found a use for instant coffee which does not involve having to drink it. I shall develop films with it.

The normal approach to film development is to use the chemicals supplied by the likes of Ilford and Kodak, and that is what I have done so far, with mixed results. But during my trawl through the wide wide world of web seeking information on this arcane process, I stumbled upon a group of people who have abandoned the easy route and opted for an intriguing mixture of instant coffee, Vitamin C and washing soda. For reasons I will never understand, a combination of these substances mixed with some water and thrown in a developing tank with a film for long enough will produce developed negatives. For reasons I will never understand, I have to try it.

And so, the great coffee project. The current film in my camera is being used to take photos of assorted coffee shops, machines, drinks, bags of beans and anything else coffee related that I can point my lens at. Once the film is finished, I will throw it into the strange mixture and see what happens. Hopefully I will end up with some photos of coffee, developed in coffee; and if that isn’t a pointless objective to strive for, I don’t know what is.

Traffic flow in Pattaya continues to degrade. The worst is at weekends, when mass muppets from Bangkok descend upon our city and clog up everything; but even during the week it is becoming more common to be stuck in a jam.

Key to the degradation has been the installation of more and more sets of traffic lights at junctions where everyone had been quite happy muddling along by using the usual technique of driving through at high speed and hoping everyone else gets out of the way. Sure there were a few major accidents and it takes a while for the blood to wash away, but not enough carnage to warrant bringing everything to a controlled stop by the use of lights.

Still, there was a small compensation for those wishing to turn left at the lights; you could do so provided the traffic was clear, even if the lights were on red. Very useful, and although some junctions prohibited the practice because you were likely to pull out into an eight-wheeled truck doing 140kph, you could happily turn left almost everywhere.

Not any more. Most junctions now have a sign prohibiting a left turn:

Not always.

Ignoring Leica, who have been operating in their own little expensive world since forever; and Epson with their low volume RD-1, it was Panasonic and Olympus who launched the concept of a compact system camera in 2008 with the micro four thirds (MFT) format. Sensors big enough to provide a quality image, small enough to enable lenses that matched body size and provided a small shooting solution. What could go wrong?

Same lady, same day, captured on film:

I have made mention before of my love of cycling. One little story that slipped my mind related to the annual holidays I took with my parents.

In my youth I tried hard to rebel, but I failed because my father wouldn’t let me and because I never had any money. But I did have my bike and it went with me everywhere, even on our annual holidays which, even in my teens, I was obliged to attend with my parents. I didn’t mind too much though because we always went to a particularly picturesque part of Northumberland and while my parents lounged on the beach or propped up the bar, I was whizzing round the countryside and impressing the local girls with my massive thighs (or so I imagined).