Back to Mum's shop, on a whim

The ferry heading for Pin Khlao

On a whim, I decided to catch a ferry boat down the Chao Phraya River.

‘Do you want to come?’ I asked boyfriend Maiyuu yesterday as I contemplated my adventure.

‘No...I want to make jelly and pears. But you go...it’s an outing, so should open your eyes and ears,’ he said.

Where to go? Mum's shop at Pin Khlao sounds like a good place. I hadn't been there in six months, since Maiyuu and I moved into town from the Thon Buri side of Bangkok.

I took a motorcycle taxi to the pier at Saphan Taksin, and a ferry boat down the river. It was packed, mainly with tourists, school students, and monks.

I overshot the pier by two stops, as I am not used to seeing the place from the river. I took another ferry back, and walked down to Mum's shop.

I have posted an image of the shop before. Here are a couple from Pin Klao bridge - one of my favourites in that area, apart from the stunning Rama VIII bridge. 

The ferry stops by the side of the Phra Pin-Klao bridge, which have I crossed by foot many times, including a few times in the early hours of the morning.

Pin Khlao bridge

A shot on the bridge

Arriving at the shop yesterday, Mum looked surprised to see me. We sat down for a catch-up, which took less than five minutes.

'We bought this marble table for the shop - 3,000 baht,' she said.

‘I have to go to the market. What a shame, you will miss the big party.’

Mum’s husband celebrates his 60th birthday today (I am writing this the morning after my visit), and has invited regulars to join them at the shop for food and drinks. I can’t go, as I shall be at work.

Mum has swapped shifts with her husband. After years of working the night shift, she now works days, while her husband comes out after 6pm.

'He wasn't sleeping properly...he was drinking here for hours after he knocked off. We changed over so he could get more rest.'

By midnight yesterday, some hours into my visit, the end of our little street was humming. My friend Farang C travelled out from town to join me, as did bad boy Kew, who brought a friend.

‘It is my birthday next month,’ said Mum. ‘Don’t forget!’

We were born in the same year, one month apart.

Mum will make several dishes for tonight's party, including green curry. She keeps a small gas stove space at the back of her shop.

Mum and I picked the tops off baby chili peppers during my visit yesterday, in preparation for the big night.

‘Are you still with your boyfriend?’ she asked.

‘I am...’

‘So you moved together?’

‘We did...’

She asked about my rent.

'I pay just a fraction of that price for my room just around the corner,' she said.

A walk was in order I thought, as I hadn't seen the neighbourhood in so long. Mum’s three dogs accompanied me.

At a food cart nearby I took a pork and rice dish, then dropped in to see Wut, who owns a smart eatery nearby.

When I arrived, Wut was standing on a foot ladder, putting up a light outside his shop.

‘Where did you go...you just disappeared!’ said Wut. ‘We don’t see you any more.’

‘I moved. We now live further away,’ I said.

'When it is finished, my place will have a bigger kitchen, more seating for customers, even space for a live band,' he said. 'You must come back for a visit.'

I visited the eatery next to Mum's place to use the toilet. Young Pao, a young tearaway from the Northeast who used to serve tables the last time I visited, still works there.

He is related to the owner. Actually, almost everyone who works here is related to the owner. We exchanged greetings.

'Hello, Pao,' he said.

He remembered my name. 'Hello, Mali,' he said, smiling.

‘He’s free!’ called out the cook, another relative, as I walked past.

She meant: ‘He has yet to find himself a boyfriend or girlfriend, so you can have him!’

I pretended not to hear. Pao is straight, but his family despairs of his chances of settling down quickly, so try to hitch him up with this lonely farang.

Actually, I am joking. I am sure they would rather that he end up with an Esan girl, though he will have to learn to be a provider first.

Kew turned up late, after hand-delivering flyers in the area, a part-time job which supplements his earnings as a security guard in town.

'How's your Mum?' I asked.

'She's at home,' he said, which is his usual answer whenever I ask after her health.

'I know she's at home...but how is she?' I asked, laughing.

Kew was growing teary, his usual reaction to drink.

'Come back again soon,' he said a few hours later, as farang C and I made our goodbyes.

'I will...maybe in two weeks,' I promised.

At Mum's shop, I feel I am in the company of family. Last night, our little family was reunited after months apart.

For more images of Pin Khlao and its bridges, see this collection of Instagram pics.