Under Thai Skies – Light & Shadow

Officially, education in Thailand is free and compulsory. The law says every child must complete nine years of school – six years of primary and three years of lower secondary. On paper, it looks good. But life here tells a different story. In villages and poor regions – especially in Isaan, the northern mountains, or along the borders with Myanmar and Laos – many children never finish school. Some don’t even start. Why? Poverty. Parents need their children to help at home, in the fields, at the market. A “free” education isn’t really free. Uniforms, books, transport, lunches – all of that costs money. For some families, it’s simply too much. And then there are migrant children – from Myanmar, Cambodia, Laos. They’re everywhere: living in construction camps, working in the fields, helping at markets, sometimes even on fishing boats. Most never enter the Thai school system at all. For them, childhood often ends before it begins. Many attend makeshift “Migrant Learning Centres,” fragile ...

When we first arrived in Bang Sare, we immediately felt it was something different from Bangkok or Pattaya. Life here moves slower, calmer, without the tourist noise and aggressive nightlife. It’s a former fishing village that has kept much of its character, even though more and more people are discovering it on the map. Mornings have become a ritual – coffee on the balcony, looking out over a wide meadow dotted with shrubs and trees. In the distance, you can see the outline of buildings and a golden Buddha from the local temple. The landscape may look the same, but it changes every day – sometimes glowing in the bright sun, other times fading into heavy rain clouds. That’s what makes it never boring. After coffee, it’s time for a swim in the pool. Later, I usually sit down to work on the blog while Wlodek checks the news from Europe. Then we prepare lunch – usually European-style, but always with the addition of fresh vegetables and herbs bought at the local market. Afternoons are eve...

Bangkok. For most people it means golden temples, the Grand Palace, and endless traffic jams. And yes – we saw the highlights. The shimmering Wat Phra Kaew, the reclining Buddha, the palace that draws thousands of tourists every day. All beautiful, all impressive. But what made the city truly unforgettable was not the monuments – it was Sue. Sue was our guide. Thai, born and raised in the city, she didn’t just walk us from one attraction to another. She told stories. Legends about kings and monks, everyday anecdotes about Thai life, small details we would never have noticed on our own. She made the city breathe. And then she showed us something else. She put us on a long-tail boat and took us away from the tourist crowds, out onto the khlongs – the old canals of Bangkok. Suddenly the noise of the city faded, replaced by the splash of water and the hum of the engine. We passed giant monitor lizards sunbathing on the banks – prehistoric creatures in the middle of a modern city. We threw ...

In travel brochures, elephants walk freely through jungles, monkeys swing from palm trees, and tigers pose like gentle cats. But the reality for many animals in Thailand is far from paradise. Take elephants. They are symbols of the country, sacred in Thai culture. Yet for decades, thousands have been used in tourism – giving rides, painting pictures, performing tricks. Tourists see it as “fun” or “cultural,” but the truth behind it is training that breaks their spirit, chains that hold them still, and endless work in the heat. Even so-called “sanctuaries” often keep them in conditions far from natural freedom. Or the tigers. Tourists pose with them for selfies, pet their heads, stroke their backs. But a tiger that lets you touch it is not living naturally. It’s drugged, declawed, or trained into submission. A photo may last a moment – but for the animal, it’s a lifetime of captivity. Then there are the monkeys. Cute in photos, aggressive in reality. Many are chained, forced to perform,...

Our first full-day trip in Thailand wasn’t to the beach, but to history. And it was special for another reason: it was the very first trip we took in our new car. Finally on the road, free to go where we wanted, when we wanted. We set off with our friends Kasia and Lukas – fellow retirees living in the same condominium complex – and headed north to Ayutthaya, the ancient capital of Siam. Just a couple of hours behind the wheel, and suddenly we were standing in a place that once ruled the region, filled with temples, palaces, and canals. Walking among the ruins, we saw the famous Buddha head wrapped in tree roots, weathered chedis leaning under the sun, and statues that had lost their arms or heads but still held their dignity. History here isn’t behind glass – it’s in the air, in the bricks under your hands, in the silence between the centuries-old walls. The heat was relentless, but the day was worth every drop of sweat. Between the temples we shared stories, laughed, and took in the ...

Thailand seduces with tropical beaches, golden temples, and warm smiles on every corner. But behind the postcard-perfect image lies a reality you don’t even have to look for to see. Because every paradise has its price. And too often, it’s the weakest who pay. This isn’t an easy topic – but it can’t be ignored. Thailand has struggled with prostitution for decades. Officially, it’s illegal. In practice – it’s everywhere. Open, visible, and largely tolerated. Tourists from the West don’t always come here for the scenery. Some come for “entertainment” that has nothing to do with nature. And in many tourist areas, that becomes clear very quickly. In places like Pattaya, Western men can easily find “company” for 1,500–2,000 baht – no questions asked. A straightforward transaction, openly discussed in bars and on the street, showing how deeply this trade is woven into the fabric of some tourist hotspots.  And then there’s something else – it hits you after just a few days: old, frail Wes...

When you live abroad, you miss things you once took for granted. For us, one of those things is Polish sausage. In Thailand you can buy almost anything – tropical fruit, seafood, endless rice dishes – but real sausage? Forget it. That’s where Wlodek steps in. He has become the sausage master of the house. No smokehouse, no fancy equipment – just patience, good pork, and a lot of love for tradition. The recipe is simple, but it takes care. Wlodek mixes three cuts: ham, pork neck, and belly. The belly goes through the grinder, the rest he cuts into tiny pieces by hand. First day: only curing salt, 24 hours in the fridge. Next day: pepper, garlic, marjoram – the holy trinity of Polish sausage. The casings? Lazada to the rescue. We order protein casings online, Wlodek stuffs them full, and then they go for drying. We don’t have a smokehouse, so we improvise. Oven, air-drying – whatever works. The smell in the house is enough to make you dizzy with hunger. And the best part? Tasting. Yester...

In theory, retirement gives us time. No boss, no schedules, no rushing to work. You wake up in the morning, drink coffee on the balcony… and suddenly it’s evening. Days pass faster than ever, and we often find ourselves wondering: where does it all go? That’s why we try not to postpone anything “for later.” We do what matters right away – whether it’s a small trip or simply meeting people. We plan one–day excursions, like Bangkok, Ayutthaya or Sri Racha, as well as longer getaways – Ao Nang, Phetchaburi, Koh Chang. These trips anchor our weeks, give structure, and prevent everyday life from blending into one long blur. And then there are our daily rituals. Swimming, walking, writing the blog. In the evenings, we often end up at the night market – not just to shop or grab a bite, but to soak in the atmosphere and be around people. These small routines add meaning to the day and keep us from feeling that time is slipping through our fingers. Maybe for younger travelers it’s just “ordinar...

Big life changes often come with big expectations. But in the end, it’s not the grand adventures or the exotic views that make me love living here the most. It’s the little things. Here are ten of them: 1. Sunrise coffee on my balcony – when the sky is still soft and the world is quiet. 2. Sunsets on the beach – just 200 meters from my door. 3. The morning chorus of birds that sounds like a cheerful wake-up call. 4. Having a swimming pool within reach – a luxury I never take for granted. 5. The freedom of “I don’t have to” – life at my own pace. 6. Frangipani trees in bloom, their sweet scent drifting in the warm air. 7. Fruits warmed by the sun – mango, watermelon… the same as in Europe, yet completely different in taste. 8. Warm evenings without a jacket – just the sound of the waves and the hum of cicadas. 9. The friendly smiles from neighbours and strangers alike. 10. Tiny gecko friends on my balcony – sometimes bold enough to wander into the house. Life here isn’t perfect. But the...

Arkady Fiedler, a Polish traveler and writer well known in the 1930s for his vivid travel books, visited Canada in 1935. After his journey, he wrote one of his most famous works – “Canada: A Land of Resin.” The title refers to the characteristic scent of resin that dominated the Canadian forests during his stay. I read that book as a teenager and loved the idea. The thought that a whole country could be summed up by a single smell felt so powerful. Years later, when I finally visited Canada, I have to admit – it didn’t smell of resin at all. So what does Thailand smell like? Everything. Street food sizzling on every corner – garlic, chili, frying oil. Sweet mangoes next to dried fish. Spices and incense drifting from temples. And yes, the less glamorous part too: clogged drains after rain, garbage baking in the sun. It’s a wild mix that can knock you back or make you hungry – sometimes both at once. And yet, for me, Thailand has one scent that rises above all the rest: plumeria (fr...

Traveling in Thailand isn’t only about beaches, mango sticky rice, and golden temples. At some point, you’ll face another cultural adventure – the Thai toilet. For many travelers, it’s a bigger shock than spicy curry. 😉 In temples, gas stations, and public rest stops, the squat toilet is still king. A ceramic hole in the floor with footrests – simple and efficient. For some, it’s a gymnastics challenge; for Thais, it’s just the preferred way. Always carry tissues, because toilet paper is rarely provided. In malls and restaurants, you’ll usually find Western-style toilets, though sometimes without a seat. What you will always find is the magical bidet spray. This little handheld shower, nicknamed the “bum gun,” replaces toilet paper. First you do your business, then you wash, and if you want, you dry yourself with your own tissues. Remember: tissues go in the bin, never in the toilet – the plumbing here won’t forgive you. And here’s the most important advice: test the water pressure fi...

Let’s be honest – coming to Thailand without travel insurance is asking for trouble. A private hospital can hand you a bill that makes your heart race faster than a chili pepper 🌶️. That’s why we stick to an annual travel insurance policy that can be renewed every year. It’s not perfect, but at least we sleep better at night (and in our age, a good night’s sleep is already a luxury 😉). With the Non-Immigrant O visa there’s no requirement to have medical insurance. Sounds great, until you actually think about what could happen if something goes wrong. We tried to buy a local policy here, and that’s where the fun began. Insurance companies welcome you with a smile… until you mention the words “chronic conditions.” Suddenly, that smile fades. The offers we got included a two–three year waiting period. In other words: you pay around £2,000 a year, but coverage for chronic illnesses only starts years later – if at all. And the conditions you already have? Not covered. So basically you pay...

My first encounter with a Thai ladyboy wasn’t in a cabaret, or on a neon-lit street in Pattaya. It was in a cosmetics shop. I was browsing the shelves for a hair conditioner when she approached me. Without a word, she gently took a strand of my hair, examined it with the precision of a professional. She towered over me – and I’m 170 cm tall. Her figure was striking, her makeup flawless. But then came the voice: deep, resonant, unmistakably male when she declared: "You need hair oil." And in that moment, the puzzle pieces clicked into place. Ladyboys – or kathoey as they are known in Thailand – are a visible part of the country’s social fabric. They are not hidden away. You see them in shops, in restaurants, on the street, in beauty salons. And in certain places, you see them in a very different light – under the stage lights, dressed in glitter, feathers, and silk. In tourist hubs like Pattaya, two world-famous cabarets – Tiffany’s Show and Alcazar Cabaret Show – have turned ...

Move to Thailand and you’ll soon realize there’s one thing you’ll never run out of – and it’s not sunshine. It’s 7-Eleven. They’re everywhere. And I mean everywhere. In Bangkok you can have three of them on the same street corner, competing for the same late-night snack crowd. In smaller towns, they stand like neon beacons, promising air-conditioning, coffee, and a rescue from sudden hunger. What can you get here? Everything. A toothbrush at 2 a.m.? No problem. Hot rice with basil chicken? They’ll heat it for you in exactly 90 seconds. A ready-to-drink latte, a SIM card, shampoo, or an emergency ice cream? All under one tiny roof. For many people, 7-Eleven is “Plan B” for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. For us, it’s usually a quick grab: bottled water, yogurt, or one of those dangerously addictive toasted ham-and-cheese sandwiches. And yes – they will ask if you want it hot, and the answer is always yes. Of course, not everything here is cheap. Some snacks and ready meals cost more than ...

You notice them right away. Round faces, shiny dark eyes, skin like porcelain kissed by the sun. Thai children look like they’ve just stepped out of a doll shop window – but that’s not the only reason they stand out. They are… quiet. Not the “something’s wrong” kind of quiet, but the calm, contented quiet of someone who simply has no reason to scream. You rarely hear crying in public. Tantrums? Those seem to belong to another universe. Born in the Land of Smiles, they seem to soak up warmth, patience, and kindness with their mother’s milk. A smile comes naturally to them – and it’s contagious. You see it when they shyly peek from behind a parent’s leg at the market, or when they beam at you from a motorbike – the older ones sitting behind, the little ones standing confidently between the rider’s knees, holding on to the handlebars like tiny captains. It’s not that Thai kids are perfect (no one is). But here, childhood seems wrapped in a gentle acceptance. They are part of the flow – no...

Step into Thailand’s night markets and discover the real taste of local life. Street food, fresh seafood, sweet treats, and endless colors await after dark. If you think night markets in Thailand are just tourist traps with pad thai and souvenir T-shirts, think again. For many locals, they’re the daily food run. Thais love to eat, but cooking at home isn’t part of most people’s routine – especially in tiny city kitchens (if they have one at all). Why spend an hour chopping and frying when you can pick up fresh curry, grilled chicken, stir-fried veggies, or even a whole fish for less than it would cost to make it yourself? Night markets are basically Thailand’s evening food supply chain. Dinner, snacks, tomorrow’s lunch – all cooked, packed, and ready to reheat. Larger markets even have tables where you can sit and eat right away, with options ranging from mango sticky rice to fried insects for the adventurous. Prices are usually low, but beware of “Instagram food” – colorful drinks, gi...

I’ve been terrified of water all my life. Not “a bit uneasy". Not “not a fan". I mean genuinely afraid – the kind of fear where even getting into a bathtub felt like a risk, and only with a rubber duck for backup. Lakes? No. Pools? Only the shallow end. The sea? Maybe ankle-deep. Maybe. But here in Thailand, there’s no escaping water. The heat, the humidity, the sudden downpours – without a pool, you melt. And I kept staring at that blue rectangle with a mix of awe and dread… Until Wlodek decided to teach me. Again. Yes, the same Wlodek who once made it his mission to teach me how to drive in England. And he did. Despite my tears, my panic, my near-refusal to even sit behind the wheel. Now, in Thailand, he set his sights on something even bigger: teaching me to swim. Alright – “swim” might be a stretch. But for me, it counts. I don’t drown. I don’t cling to the edge. I manage to swim across the pool – sometimes ten, sometimes even twenty lengths. And yes, I still have panic a...

 If there’s one thing you won’t have trouble finding in Thailand, it’s a massage salon. Or ten. Lined up one after another, they seem identical at first glance — same posters, same recliners, same sleepy staff waiting for customers. But step inside, and the experience can swing from spa-like bliss to "never again" in under five minutes. Yes, there are gems out there. We’ve found a couple of wonderful places — clean, quiet, with staff who know what they’re doing. In one, before a foot massage, they actually washed our feet, offered comfy cotton shorts to change into, and served tea afterwards. That was a wow. But then there are the others. No foot washing? Not even a wet wipe? When I asked, the lady begrudgingly dabbed my ankles with a lukewarm towel and moved on. Hygienic standards? Variable. At best. Let’s talk about manicures and pedicures. Sure, they can trim your cuticles neatly and apply polish with skill. But more often than not, the pedicure is done while the technicia...

Wlodek has been driving all his adult life. I’ve been driving on my own for the past five years, and now we simply can’t imagine life without a car. When we first arrived in Thailand, we used Bolt – a local ride-hailing app similar to Uber, but faster, cheaper, and smoother. It worked great for a while, but in the end we came to the same conclusion: there’s nothing like having your own car. So we bought "Miśka" – a Mitsubishi Attrage. It's not the class of car we were used to, but… it drives. It has four wheels, air conditioning, and doesn’t complain. Everything works – what more do you need? Traffic in Thailand is left-hand, just like in the UK, so I thought I’d be fine. Wlodek got behind the wheel and just drove. I… well. Having grown used to the high driving culture in the UK – where people actually follow rules, use indicators, and give way politely – I found Thailand’s road chaos genuinely overwhelming at first. Here, there’s really just one golden rule: 👉 “Drive in...

Sun allergy + sweat = rash. Tropical math nobody wants to deal with! Back? Shoulders? It itches like the Revenge of the Tropics crawled out of the jungle and threw a party on my skin. And I look like a road map of Chonburi province – all red dots and detours. So please don’t say: “Oh, it’s so beautiful where you live!” Because I’ll say: “Yeah, especially when I’m scratching myself with a mop handle.” 🧹😑 Welcome to reality, where the greatest luxury is... a cold shower and Snake Brand Prickly Heat Powder! 😅 👉 For the curious: we’ve got the full arsenal – from calamine to aloe, sulfur soap to allergy meds. We might not beat the sun and humidity, but we’ll sure as hell make those pesky rashes suffer! 💪

There’s one fruit in Thailand that people either worship or run from – durian. Spiky, heavy, and unmistakably fragrant (or pungent – depending on who you ask), it’s a true icon of Southeast Asia. Every year, from May to August, durians take over Thai markets. Prices drop, stalls overflow, and the air becomes... noticeable. We’re currently deep in what can only be called a durian eldorado – 50 baht a kilo and no way to ignore it. Yes, we tried it. No, we didn’t faint. And no, we’re not obsessed either. Let’s just say it’s... interesting. The smell? Manageable. The taste? Not awful. But if you ask what we’d choose given the option – we’re still on Team Pear 😉 Trying durian feels like a rite of passage when you live here. You don’t have to love it, but you sort of have to do it – just once – to understand the hype, the horror stories, and the passionate fan base. We did it. We survived. You?

The beach in Bang Sare is never the same. Every walk brings a new adventure — a new micro-world uncovered between the grains of sand. One day, we meet a hermit crab hiding inside a delicate porcelain shell. Another day, we stumble upon brittle stars — sea creatures with long, wriggling arms. Sometimes, the sea gifts us a jellyfish, fresh from a cosmic dream. And now and then, we pause to watch the collectors — locals who skillfully dig out tiny hoi sai clams, treasured for their taste and tradition. Bang Saray, Thailand. Here, the sea tells a new story every day. And it never gets old 🐚🦀

 If there’s one phrase that captures the spirit of Thailand, it’s this: “Mai pen rai” ( ไม่เป็นไร ) You’ll hear it everywhere.                                Your coffee is cold? - Mai pen rai.                      The boat left without you? - Mai pen rai.          Your scooter broke down in the rain? Well... mai pen rai. It’s usually translated as “never mind,” “no problem,” “it’s okay.”  But that doesn’t really cover it. Mai pen rai isn’t just about brushing things off. It’s about acceptance. About not clinging. About not letting small things ruin your day – or your life. To a Westerner, it might feel like indifference. But it’s not. It’s a kind of calm surrender. A soft smile in the face of chaos. A shrug, not from laziness, but from wisdom. After a few months in Thailand, you start to understand it. You stop fightin...

 People often ask us: “Don’t you miss anything?” Well, yes. We do. And no, it’s not the lack of snow. We miss white cheese - the soft, crumbly kind you spread on bread with chives and a pinch of salt. Not available here. Unless you count the overpriced version in an expat shop – assuming they even have it in stock. We miss kefir - real, plain kefir. Not the sugary yogurt drinks pretending to be kefir. Those are everywhere. But the sour, tangy stuff that reminds you of home? Forget it. We miss parsley root. Celery root. - Try finding it here. And if you do – be ready to pay more than for a good bottle of wine. Apparently, they're now luxury vegetables. I miss my favourite coffee - it costs a small fortune here. So I rely on kind friends flying from Poland who sneak a few packs into their luggage. (Thank you, you coffee-smuggling angels!) And sausage...Thai sausages are… creative. Let’s just leave it at that. So Wlodek started making his own. We can’t smoke it – we don’t have the set...

We don’t miss luxury food. We miss the little things. The things that taste like memory. Like the sauerkraut slaw Wlodek makes himself – just like back home. Boiled potatoes. A simple meatball. The kind of meal that never makes it to Instagram – but that tastes like childhood. It’s not elegant. It’s not exotic. But it’s comfort. And when we eat it here, on a little balcony in Thailand, it reminds us who we are – and where we come from.

In Thailand, religion isn’t something extra – it is life.  Theravada Buddhism is everywhere. Literally. Temples – both grand and gold-covered or small and hidden in the shade – are part of every neighborhood. Even the tiniest village has its wat – sometimes pristine, sometimes slowly falling apart, but always there. And then there are the spirit houses. You’ll find them outside homes, hotels, restaurants, parking lots, shopping malls. Colorful, ornate little shrines standing quietly in the corner. These aren’t decorations. They’re homes for protective spirits – phi. Thais believe that the space we live in – a house, a shop, a plot of land – isn’t truly ours. You need to “make peace” with the spirits. Give them a roof over their heads, offer something to drink – a sweet soda, tea, flowers, incense. Maybe even a packet of rice or a cigarette. To outsiders, it might look like superstition. But here, it’s just daily life. And then there’s karma – the deep belief that what you give will...

 Thailand is often called The Land of Smiles – and for good reason. No matter where you go, smiles greet you: on busy Bangkok streets, in quiet village shops, from fruit sellers, monks, and motorbike taxi drivers. But behind those smiles are stories – often invisible to visitors. City and Village – Two Different Worlds In big cities, you’ll see modern malls, luxury condos, smartphones, Teslas, and influencers posing by rooftop pools. But just a few hours away, in small rural villages, life is slower. Houses are built from wood and corrugated metal. Education is limited. Many children finish only primary school, which is mandatory. Some adults can’t read or write. Opportunities are few. Poverty is very real – but it wears a quiet face. And yet, in both places, people smile. Not because life is easy.  But because kindness, patience, and courtesy are deeply rooted in Thai culture. Education Gaps and Social Contrasts Thailand has excellent international schools – and villages wher...

We arrived in Thailand at the perfect time. Right after the rainy season, when the landscape is lush, the greens are vibrant, and the air – while still hot – feels bearable thanks to lower humidity. This is the golden season. The postcard version. The dream. But then reality hits. First, the burning season begins. Smoke from field fires hangs in the air. It creeps into the house, into your clothes, into your lungs. Breathing becomes a challenge. You wake up to haze, not mist. It’s not romantic – it’s irritating and dangerous, especially for older people. Next comes the dry heat – and it’s brutal. Temperatures soar to 38–42°C (in the shade), with nights rarely cooler than 30°C. The air stands still. There’s no breeze, no relief. Your body doesn’t cool down – it just sweats nonstop. You live in a permanent state of being drenched. Air conditioning becomes your best friend… and your biggest expense. Electricity bills go up fast, and even walking to the shop becomes a calculated risk....

Let’s be honest. Thai food is world-famous. Colourful, aromatic, full of flavour. And yes – during a holiday, it can feel like heaven: pad thai by the beach, mango sticky rice after a swim, fried rice at a night market. Delicious, cheap, exotic. But living here is not a holiday. And after a few weeks (or months), it hits you:  How many more plates of rice or noodles can one person take? What We Learned the Hard Way? We quickly realised that Thai food, while tasty, just doesn’t work for us long-term. - Too many carbs. - Too much sugar. - Too many mystery sauces. And let’s not forget the heat, the oil, the MSG, the hidden chilli bombs. It’s not that Thai food is “bad” – it’s just not something we can eat every day without consequences. Especially if you’re over 60 and trying to take care of your health. What That Means in Practice? It means we mostly cook at home. Or look for Western-style restaurants – which are always more expensive. A Thai street meal? 50–80 THB. Grill...