Low life
Places in the sun
Jeffrey Bernard
Well, I'm off to Thailand today and it will make a change from eating in the Rasa Sayang in Frith Street. I'll be warm tomor- row and I haven't been that since Kenya. The only way I have been able to get anY heat through to these old and brittle bones is by soaking in a hot bath for an age, adding hot water every five minutes. I'd live in the bath if I could read in it but the glasses steam up. But it's nice to lie there sipping a contrastingly cold drink and reflecting on past follies.
Why I mention the cold bones is because I am increasingly preoccupied with bad health and the subsequent effect it has on my face. I frighten children in the streets. All of this was rammed home by a BBC camera crew who have been filming me for Review. I don't know whether the appear- ance is more embarrassing or humiliating.
Both, I suppose. But at least I no longer have to fight women off, and the only women I speak to now are waitresses and barmaids. But all the time that camera was turning I was thinking about the face and that makes it harder to talk at it off the top of one's head. Excuses, excuses. And what a nice crew they were. The producer is Jake Auerbach, a delightful chap, and his assistant, Rosa, even turned up for the filming we did at Earls Court stadium with a bottle of vodka, a bottle of soda water and a thermos flask full of ice. That is really caring and thoughtful, even if I did give them clues when they filmed me in the eyrie the week before. Anyway, to get back to the business of Thailand. When I told a man in the pub that I was going there he said, 'Oh, you'll have • a marvellous time in Bangkok. They've got some stunning-looking whores there and some wonderful sex shows.' When I told him I wasn't interested he was quite amazed. He said that I must get involved. Why? It's all so boring and we've done all that. He was boring too and he went on and on about it. He obviously thought my attitude was very unmacho. Not one of the boys. You, dear reader, might think it very pompous of me to say so but I think his attitude very childish. I don't have to go half way round the world to get laid and anyway I have a heavy burden of memories to take with me to Bangkok. If I declared them they probably wouldn't let me in. That man probably throws bread rolls at dinner parties and sings rugger songs when he's drunk. Thirty years ago, starting out on the journey to Golders Green, I might have felt different- ly, but not now that I've hung up my condoms. I am going to Thailand to sit in the sun, nibble at satay, tipple and possibly get shot by bandits. And even if Thailand comes up to my expectations I won't mind coming home. The Flat starts at Doncaster on 24 March. Soon the questions that have been puzzling racing freaks all winter will be answered. If human beings grew up as quickly as horses it would be very strange to watch them develop almost in front of one's eyes. Speaking of which, my daugh- ter was 18 last week and she too is going to Bangkok on her way to Australia. I sit and think about her and wonder what on earth will become of her and also find it rather strange to think that I may never see her again. Is Australia a land of opportunity? I don't know. This was once and you could have had all the 100-1 you wanted about Psidium before the 1961 Derby. But that's another story. Anyway, I'm not quite sure what opportunity is. If my lot did have it in the 1950s not many of us did a lot with it. Odd to think that a convict ship to Austra- lia was an opportunity of sorts. But I do think it an ill omen that so many Austra- lians flock to a dump like Earls Court. Surely the grass there can't be any greener than theirs. So I shall say goodbye to Isabel very soon, pat her on the head, tell her to take care to herself, not to fall in love with a con man — or any man if she can avoid it — and there you go. It's a funny old life, isn't it? One is always losing something or someone.
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