We flew to Bangkok at the beginning of April 1998 and both had hysterics on the plane having escaped the pressure cooker of Hanoi. We were met at the airport by Pamela, my former boss at the language school and went by taxi to her apartment block. It was the time of the South East Asian crash and we were to doubly benefit, having pockets full of US dollars and finding everything dirt cheap. We rented a suite at the House on the Pond just off Sukomvit Road, a far cry from the usual backpacker hostels on the Khaosan Road. We particularly enjoyed the swimming pool on the roof. We did all the tourist stuff and shopping and things. Petra bought some lovely silk clothes and selected a few choice silk ties for me. She also found a fruit that she really liked called dorian. It's a prickly green thing with a fleshly white inside. Petra loved it. Unfortunately, it stank horrendously and I could barely stay in the same room as it let alone eat it. Petra was oblivious to the pong and tucked in. One of the more memorable episodes came when in a taxi, the driver referred to Petra as my daughter. She could not stop laughing and never let me forget it. After a week or so in Bangkok, we decided to take advantage of our relative wealth and free few weeks and go to Australia. Father Hilary, formerly chaplain in Prague and the priest who had married us was living in Perth, so we went to see him and had a wonderful three weeks. As it was April, it was hot enough to be pleasant but not too hot as to make it unbearable. Father Hilary lived on the edge of Perth, so we had countryside to walk in but could get into the centre if we wanted. The best part for Petra were the few days that we spent going to Freemantle to look round all the museums. She really loved it there. For the last few days we moved back into town and stayed at a backpacker hostel. One evening Petra was talking to an American about how interesting we found the museums in Freemantle. She particularly enjoyed the old prison, which was now a museum with guided tours by the former guards. During the course of the conversation, petra enquired whether this American had visited the prison museum. Unfortunately she left out the definite article as Czechs sometimes do because they don't use it. The American was slightly taken aback when she asked him, 'Have you been to prison?' because he obviously had. On the way back to Britain, we returned to Thailand and spent a pleasant week at Pattaya on the beach. We didn't venture much into town, althought the tuktuks were cheap and plentiful. We found the occurence of middle aged caucasian men snogging teenage Thai boys a little too frequent for our tastes. The hotel on the beach was lovely and we had a very relaxing time. On 7th May, we returned to Britain thus finishing our adventure of a lifetime. Settling down was just around the corner.