After Cameron's boat disappeared over the horizon, the servants trickled back to work and I headed for the social club for a bit of breakfast. I ordered freshly squeezed orange juice, paw-paw, fresh pineapple, coddled eggs and wholemeal toast with a pint mug of mellow-roasted Colombian coffee.
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I decided to explore our new country a little more and headed along the jungle track towards Earl John Gray's estate. The Burmese construction team had worked hard to make a fenced compound for his livestock but there was just one lonesome turkey there called Chris - a gift from the people of Turkey. Forlornly, it was pecking in the compound dirt with a joke sign round its neck - as if waiting for the rest of the menagerie to arrive.
I went inside the traditional living accommodation and spotted a picture of a dog on the tropical hardwood wall. Welcoming garlands of flowers on the table were already drooping and a nesting parrot had pooped on the window sill. I thought that perhaps deterioration in any neglected tropical property begins like that.
Early Gray's houseboy Maung - who looks remarkably like the singer Matt Cardle - came up dripping from the beach carrying a basket of fresh lobsters and shiny sea bream. "Where John Mr Pudding? When John come? I bored Mr Pudding. I wanna serve Mr John. Do whatever Mr John say."
"I'm sorry Maung," I said. "It looks like Mr John will not be coming after all."
Maung showed me Earl Gray's bedroom - a big bamboo bed with a scarlet pure silk cover - beautifully embroidered with a traditional Burmese dragon design. From his elevated bedroom window there was a lovely view of the bay - right across to Pudding Towers.
"Why? Why Mr John no come?" asked Maung.
But I didn't know the answer
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Kitchen/living area Earl Gray's Residence, Blogland |
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