I was up early this morning to send off the blog of our latest adventure. Yesterday we drove down to San Rioa National Park, south of where we are staying, where we managed to climb a mountain and explore a cave system. The humidity was intense, and through sheer exertion I must have sweated at least 2 litres of water. By the time we descended, my legs had turned to rubber. I don’t think a visit to the gym is required today, so I shall instead spend some quality time online.

It was extremely fortunate that we ventured into the caves, as we came across a group of young Thai students who had been lost for several hours and were desperate for help finding their way out. Luckily, Jamie had brought his video camera to film the caves, and its light proved invaluable. We could mostly see where we were going, though in truth it was more a case of following where Jamie was going, stumbling carefully behind him.

Later, to cool off, Sarah and I went for a swim on a quite gorgeous beach beside a fishing village, blithely ignoring what seemed like a million jellyfish intent on stinging us. Jamie, meanwhile, somehow persuaded a local woman to cook him fried rice and pork. I have no idea how he manages this, as she spoke no English and his Thai is non-existent. He sat smugly on an upturned boat and scoffed the lot, observed closely by a pack of ravenous local dogs. Sue later told me that he had also tried to persuade the woman to make him an omelette. Hmm. Fried rice and pork were cheeky enough, but then I suppose that is Jamie.

A day spent in San Rioa Park is always special; we have been several times over the years. The scenery is stunning, the beaches deserted, and the locals unfailingly friendly. We lunched at the Ranger Station at the far end of the park, which itself sits inside a vast, ancient volcanic crater. Afterwards, as has now become tradition, we walked through the mangroves throwing berries at one another. Exasperatingly, this year Jamie and Sarah were far more accurate than when they were younger and gave as good as they got. The little fruits sting quite badly when they hit, though I tried not to encourage them by visibly flinching. Towards the end of the boardwalk, Sarah and Sue ganged up on Jamie, cornering him beneath a watchtower where he paid dearly for all his earlier sneaky throws. He finally surrendered after being hit so many times that he was beginning to resemble a Dalmatian.

We then came across a troupe of macaques and spent some time feeding them part of the meal we had brought with us. Afterwards, we set off in search of dusky langurs, reputed to live in the mangroves, but failed to spot any. We paused instead at another Ranger Station for our family monkeys (Jamie and Sarah) to have drinks. While we were still ‘monkeying around’, Sue happily used her binoculars to observe the birdlife, butterflies and mudskippers. She later chatted with some local villagers while Sarah and I returned to the beach to retrieve a pair of flip-flops she had left behind. Naturally, they were mine, which she had borrowed.

A few days earlier, we finally did something we had always said we would do. In fact, Sarah and I had secretly been discussing and planning it all year. We drove north-west to the largest body of water in Thailand, Kaeng Krachan Dam, close to the Burmese border. We have visited many times; it is remote, beautiful and utterly peaceful. Three years ago, entirely by accident, we discovered a place called Paradise Boat Resort. Situated down a muddy cart track beside the lake, it really is close to paradise. The resort consists of several sampans floating in their own concrete pools along the shoreline. Their interiors are absolutely six-star, and the views across the lake are breathtaking.

On previous visits we had only stopped for lunch and were the sole guests. I had often wondered whether a Thai millionaire had stumbled upon the place and decided it was too perfect not to build something special. This time, unlike before, the English-speaking owner was present. Sarah and I had planned to stay overnight in one of the boats and, although she was initially reluctant, she eventually agreed and booked us into a sampan near the entrance.

Over conversation, she explained that she and her wealthy husband had discovered the spot while taking a day off from their business in Bangkok. They first built a weekend sampan for themselves, then she persuaded him to build several more, along with a restaurant, and allow her to run it as a resort.

As expected, our sampan was so luxurious that no expense had been spared. We were surprised when, shortly after checking in, people in uniform began arriving. We were told that the General of the Thai Armed Forces was hosting a party by the lake to celebrate his wife’s birthday. This later turned out to be true.

That afternoon, we swam in the lake, canoed around a small island, then hired bicycles and went for an exhausting evening ride.

That night, after dressing for dinner and taking our seats on the restaurant veranda, we found that a stage and rows of tables had been set up along the shoreline. A large number of guests arrived, some in full military uniform, others in ball gowns. Sarah learned that it was the general’s wife’s 34th birthday, though I confess she looked nearer 50 to me. Naturally, the lower ranks waited at the tables while the officers celebrated. Entertainment was provided on the stage: the professional dancers were excellent, but the inevitable karaoke followed, and I must admit that if I had paid to watch it, I would have asked for a refund.

As the only guests staying at the resort, we were invited to join the party, but we politely declined, preferring to eat and watch from the safety of the restaurant. We knew full well we would be dragged onto the stage to make fools of ourselves.

Later, as I was taking photos of the performances, the general, his wife and their very pretty daughter came over to our table and again invited us to join in. The daughter took quite a shine to Jamie and insisted on several photographs with him. Once more, we declined, thanked them, and retired to our sampan. The party continued well into the small hours.

The next morning, we were astonished to find that many of the party-goers had stayed overnight and checked into the other sampans. The stage and tables had vanished as if by magic.

After checking out, we decided to venture deeper into the jungle than ever before. I filled the car with petrol, and we drove along a dirt track towards Pran Buri Falls. After several stops for me to check the road surface on foot, we reached a forest encampment and were stopped by a barrier. Along the way, we had seen ample evidence of wild elephants and leopards, and at one point encountered a huge monitor lizard and clouds of colourful butterflies. The camp appeared deserted apart from three rangers, who showed little interest in us.

Sue, Sarah and Jamie went for a walk along the river while I explored the campsite. When it began to drizzle, I was relieved to see them return, worried that heavy rain might trap us on the mountain roads. Thankfully, we managed the slippery descent and later regretted not having explored further. Sarah declared she would love to return one day to camp there herself, and I suspect she will.

On another trip, we visited Lawana, a place we discovered years ago with a beautiful infinity pool overlooking a river and a fishing village. Once again, we were the only guests. After lunch and a swim, Sarah and I walked upriver towards the sea. A police boat was stopping and searching fishing boats entering the estuary. Using binoculars from the pool earlier, we had watched but could not see clearly what they were searching for.

Sitting on the riverbank, we soon realised it was drugs. The panic on the fishing boats was obvious as packets were hurriedly thrown overboard, some floating straight onto the beach in front of us. The police, having found nothing on board, waved the boats on. Everyone, it seemed, was playing the same game.

At five o’clock, the police boat left, and the officers climbed onto their mopeds and went home. Shortly afterwards, a much larger Navy vessel arrived, presumably to intercept the bigger boats supplying the smaller ones. It had been a fascinating afternoon.

I have plenty more to tell, but not the time to tell it. I must be off, or they’ll be wondering where I am.