There was a bit of excitement in the park this morning as no less than eight water monitors came up on to the bank, lured by the fragrance of a dead turtle one of their number had scored for breakfast. I must remember to take my camera one day and get some photos of these handsome creatures. Most Thais seem to think them ugly, but as I said recently to a friend, to my eyes they have a sleek, rugged charm, like amphibious Clint Eastwoods. Or Gul Dukat, who I always found inexplicably attractive.

Some of the other sights around Lumpini:

The red hot kung fu gang. Mostly young, male and female, this group wears red t-shirts with yellow writing and does kickass stuff with broadswords, daggers and glaives. They remind me of my naginata days, except that they use metal weapons and don’t bother with armour.

The hooting runners. All male, they wear light blue shorts and tops and look Japanese. Possibly a corporate group. One of their number holds a horn which he honks without pause - in case, perhaps, someone lags and gets lost in the wilds of Lumpini park and never turns up for work again.

The Tai Chi master. Solitary, middle aged, bristle-cut grey hair. Moves like an eel in water.

The female Tai Chi master. Solitary, middle aged, flowing black hair, crimson pyjamas. Moves like water in water.

Sword lady. Thai-Chinese, retiree, plump, has a shopping jeep laden with martial arts weapons for sale (I bought a couple of fans from her). Sometimes she practises with a sword or broadsword. My friend Pao says that when he sees the women do their sword routines he hopes his wife doesn’t see it and decide to take it up. I told him he’d have to learn too and they could have fencing bouts.

The inverted farang. Attractive young European male. Does yoga on the rocks in the palm grove in front of which our group practises. He impresses us by doing a headstand on the rock without any padding for his noggin. Looks intense. Does not smile.

Latin ballroom dancers. They tango, salsa and rhumba in the little pavilion behind the palm grove.

Today I distinguished myself in the eyes of my classmates by saying “I will not eat my knee”, when I meant to say “I won’t have breakfast”. Thai grammar is quite simple, so it isn’t hard to say a grammatically correct sentence, but forget or mangle the tones and the opportunities for madlibs are endless.

Back home, practising while listening to music, I discovered that “Man of Constant Sorrow” from O Brother Where Art Thou? is excellent for doing to 42-form to, and “He’s In the Jailhouse Now” from the same soundtrack is quite good for the Grasshopper Fan routine, though I found myself unconsciously adding uncanonical foot-taps, pelvic thrusts, an occasional Michal Jacksonesque crotch-grab and that thing John Travolta does with his finger pointing in the air. Stu said I should put it on Youtube but I don’t think I will, somehow.