Iz down under

Not Australia, but the Andaman Sea - the body of water to the west of Thailand, that forms part of the Indian Ocean and played host to me this week as I learned to dive. I am now a PADI qualified Open Water diver! Learning to dive is something I've been thinking about for some while and, as I'm not getting any younger (funny, that), I figured that now was as good a time as any. Living in Singapore means that lots of warm water dive sites are within easy reach, and the fact that Chris's eldest daughter Saffron runs a dive centre in Ko Lanta in Thailand (check it out at http://www.scuba-fish.com/) made the choice of where to learn very simple without having to do any of that research malarkey.

So, what was I expecting, and what was it like? Well, it was hard work for a start - physically and mentally. Physically, because doing anything underwater is hard work given the relative density of water and air, and mentally, because there is a fair amount of theory to get to grips with about stuff like the effects of compression on the body to make sure you dive safely. It's a while since I've taken an exam but thankfully, I passed, largely due to great one-one-one tuition from the lovely Viki, with whom I bonded instantly because she too, is Scottish. There are some pictures of the dive sprinkled throughout this and future posts - the one top right is me going into the sea for the first time. I know it's looks as if I'm being pushed, but I really did jump! The one below unfortunately makes me look as if I have borrowed Graucho Marx's nose for the day, but, hey, everything looks bigger underwater, and nobody ever said that divewear was flattering. In my case the neoprene wetsuit was not only unflattering, it also produced an (extremely rare, but who wants to be special in a case like this) allergic reaction after my first open water dive.

A big group of us were going out for dinner that evening and as I was getting ready, I started to itch. At first, I thought I had been bitten by a troop of hungry mosquitoes, but then - literally as I watched - my skin got redder and redder and broke out in a series of welts - everywhere (and, dear readers, I do mean everywhere) that the wetsuit had touched. It took me a while to work out what it was, but when I was able to pause momentarily from scratching every nook and cranny (the crannies were the worst) and view the pattern of the reaction, it came to me. By this point my ears had gone bright red and had swelled up on the inside and Chris was having to physically restrain me from scratching myself bloody. Fortunately someone at the dive centre had some amazing cream - thank you Glaxo SmithKline - which, coupled with a double dose of antihistamine tablets - seemed to do the trick overnight.

The dinner was at a local restaurant and karaoke club, where those of you who know my predilection for the microphone will doubtless have been expecting me a rendition of my theme tune, Girls Just Want To Have Fun. Well, I would have done, had it been on the song list. Fair enough, you're thinking, no Cyndi Lauper, why didn't I just go for a spot of Abba, or that karaoke staple - I Will Survive? Who can imagine a karaoke list without Dancing Queen or Gloria Gaynor? Well I can, now, because all the songs were Thai classics. To be fair, there was a list of 13 English songs, from an album entitled "Michael Sings Rock". Unfortunately, none of us had ever heard of this particular Michael or any of his songs, which didn't stop Chris getting up and singing one of them - very loudly and tunefully - although not necessarily to the tune that Michael had in mind.

While the Ang Mo population may have been constrained by the list, not so the Thais in our group, who were giving it the welly as soon as they sat down. A great time was had by all; we had masses of delicious Thai food and a fair few beers, for the bargain price of GBP 80.00 for 28 of us. A night to remember.