The visit of The Son and his girlfriend is drawing to a close. Not realising that they will be presented with a bill for accommodation upon departure, they kindly offer to take us for the best meal in Pattaya; the Sunday buffet at Mantra.
If you haven’t experienced this, you should. But be warned that there is a dress code; the compulsory aspect of which is “must bring a fat wallet”. An even fatter wallet is required if you want to embark on the free-flow wine experience, which we did. A choice of around fifteen wines; drink as much of each as you can manage. The dessert wine is particularly good and I can remember ordering a third glass before slipping briefly into unconsciousness.
Many, many choices of good food. Personally, I concentrated on eating my own, ever increasing, bodyweight in French oysters, with a side plate of Alaskan King Crab as a diversion. She who must be obeyed decided to sample all the cheeses, and assorted plates of delicacies made the one-way trip to our table.
Best of all is the dessert area. It’s so good that we always try and sit in there; thus reducing the time taken to load chocolate fountain enhanced strawberries onto the largest plates we can find.
Three hours of good food and wine encourages conversations that might not normally take place……..
I make no secret that I am proud to have The Son as my son. World-class software engineer, excellent photographer, and most importantly a good person with a wicked sense of humour. Really couldn’t ask for better. But as the wine flowed into the fourth, or maybe fifth glass, he let slip a story which dramatically altered my view of him.
When The Son was a teenager, I lived and worked in Sarawak on the island of Borneo. Interesting place; but it did not offer much in the way of secondary schools. So The Son was packed off to the UK for a life of misery in a boarding school. My memories of his secondary education were that he performed well enough academically and conformed to the foolish restrictions of boarding school life. Apparently not so.
Half way through a particularly cheeky Chilean Chardonnay, he admitted that he had in fact been suspended from school for a week. As they could hardly pack him off to Borneo, he was confined to “Matron’s quarters” (which sounds quite promising). His crime? He hacked into the school’s administrative computer records and, although he didn’t change anything, he saw a lot more than he was meant to.
How cool is that? As we staggered out of Mantra en route to a little snooze, my respect for The Son increased several points. Just waiting for him to admit he was the man who brought down Sony.
Comments 🔗
2011-05-23| MSB saysA dress code in Pattaya?? How do they ever get any customers…
2011-05-23| Jerry saysWhere is this “Mantra”? Is it associated in any way with “Kamasutra”?
2011-05-23| Spike says
2011-05-23| Spike saysNot everyone in Pattaya is a slovenly twat. Just most people.
2011-05-27| TheSon saysHaving checked with Mother, it turns out not only did you know of my exploits, you had already boasted of them to JimS at the time.
Not that I mind, I’m getting double-respect-points.
2011-05-28| Spike saysIf I could remember how much of my life I can’t remember; I would be very worried.