March Madness

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Life can be pretty confusing - at every level, in every respect, and at all times.

Which is why we like structuring it to navigate our ways through it. As a Swiss-German friend once said to me: "We just like things to be orderly." And in that sense, we're all a little Swiss-German I think.

And since life can only be lived forward, in the same way you drive down a road or motorway or highway, we put up markers at regular intervals, and we call them milestones. I like to differentiate between these and landmarks – unique, "defining" events that truly stand out. Sticking to the highway analogy, to experience these you have to turn off and consciously, literally, go out of your way to seek them.

In the same way a road unfolds ahead of us, time elapses, so over the millennia we have collectively learned to organise it around recurring natural phenomena to do with the earth rotating around its own axis and around the sun, the moon playing a role as well, and with the four seasons.

If you want to have my personal view on the four seasons, like many other things they are not what they used to be anymore. I mean, nowadays half your wardrobe you will never get to wear because it's either still too cold or already too hot for it – trench coats, light sweaters, and long-sleeved polos for example. Of course, in my chosen host country, "wellies", "brollies", and "cardies" ("Wellington" rubber boots, umbrellas, and cardigans to those lucky enough to live in more clement climes) are always good to have handy all year round, especially when you're "out and about".

Or so the ever-solicitous BBC weather nanny will admonish you after her colleague, the anchor man has announced the reassuring piece of news that the government in all its wisdom and worry for the well-being of the population has decided the introduction of a sugar tax. (More on those highlights later.)

Another milestone on the road of lifestyle regulation. Maybe even a landmark? Or a tipping point? Time will tell.

By contrast, Antonio Vivaldi's composition "The Four Seasons" (Le quattro stagioni – not to be confused with the popular pizza topping) of 1725 has stood the test of time magnificently.

As have The Four Seasons, an American rock and pop band that was big in the Sixties and Seventies. Remember their U.S. Number One hits like "Sherry" (1962), "Big Girls Don't Cry" (1962), and "Walk Like a Man" (1963)? Totally timeless tunes.

My favourite, however, remains "December, 1963 (Oh, What a Night)" (1975) – very fond memories.

Meanwhile, coming back to nature and how mankind learned early on to structure our existence on this planet around its cycles, calendars were at some point of advanced sophistication developed to organise days for social, religious, commercial, or administrative purposes – and to commemorate one's own birthday of course! Today, most of us live by the Gregorian calendar, introduced in the 16th century as a modification of the Julian calendar which in turn dated back to Ancient Rome.

Speaking of Antiquity, the Greeks recorded time in terms of the four-year periods between Olympic Games, calling these Olympiads. Which brings us close to what's behind the title of this blog, but not quite there yet. Just think "sports" for the moment.

No modern society is more rigid and efficient in structuring the calendar year than the Americans, probably to do with the fact that they always were and in many parts of the huge country (remember the "Fly-over States"?) today still are, an agrarian society.

If you really want to know what life is like on a farm in Iowa, read the novels of Jane Smiley – A Thousand Acres (1991; a modern take on Shakespeare's King Lear for which she won the Pulitzer Prize) and the more recent Last Hundred Years Trilogy: Some Luck (2014), Early Warning (2015) and Golden Age (2015). Some critics say the wait for the proverbial Great American Novel is now officially over. Having worked my way through all 1,382 pages of it, I'm not so sure. But then, what do I know. By the way, Smiley uses a structuring principle very topical to our ramblings here: each chapter has a year as its title, starting in 1920 and ending a century later.

Lumping novels in threes is all the craze these days, it seems. Remember The Campus Trilogy by David Lodge which I mentioned last time? Still highly recommended.

There's another one causing quite a stir right now (and no, I haven't read any of it – yet), entitled The Old Filth Trilogy by Jane Gardam: Old Filth (2006); The Man in the Wooden Hat (2009); and Last Friends (2013).

The famous "Rule of Three" applied to books.

So, for Americans in Iowa and everywhere else, summer officially starts on Memorial Day (30 May) and ends on Labor Day, the first Monday in September. Their highest of all holidays is Thanksgiving Day on the fourth Thursday in November to celebrate the autumn (or in their terms, fall) harvest.

Of all the holidays, I like this one best. It has nothing to do with religion or politics, there is no obligation to give presents, and being on a Thursday, it invariably makes for a wonderful long weekend. Thanksgiving is basically about Family and Friends getting together, eating and drinking, and watching (American) football on TV.

And then, of course, there is the following day – Black Friday when they all "hit the mall to heat up them credit cards". So-called because it's the first day of the year when the retail trade starts making a profit; or, alternatively, because the parking lots are "black with cars".

Remember the Eagles' "Take It to the Limit" – the one their wives call "the credit card song"?

If there is one thing Americans are devoted to even more than shopping, it's sports. And the main reason why football (soccer to them) doesn't take off in the United States (in addition of course to being a low-scoring game with lengthy interruptions too few and far between to allow for a commercially interesting number of TV ads) is that they have four major sports already, covering the whole calendar year and all seasons – (ice) hockey, baseball, (American) football, and basketball.

And three of these annually provide additional anchors to the structure of the year. The ancient Greeks, you could say, were on to something with their Olympiads.

The first, and globally the best known, is the final of the National Football League (NFL) – the Super Bowl which is always played on the first Sunday in February. Known as "Super Bowl Sunday", it is considered by some an unofficial American national holiday. You will be interested to learn it is the second-largest day for U.S. food consumption, after, you guessed it, Thanksgiving Day. In normal years, it is also the most-watched American television broadcast.

Because of its high viewership, commercial airtime during the Super Bowl broadcast is the most expensive of the year, and companies regularly develop special ads just for the occasion. As a result, watching and discussing these commercials has become a significant aspect of the event, whether you're interested in the sport or not. In addition, world stars of the rock and pop scene including Paul McCartney, Michael Jackson, Madonna, Prince, Beyoncé, The Rolling Stones, The Who, and Whitney Houston have performed as parts of the event's pre-game and half-time programs.

2016 saw Super Bowl 50, played on 7 February in Santa Clara, San Francisco Bay Area CA. Coldplay were the half-time act, saying it was the biggest thing that had ever happened to them, and on either side of their performance the Denver Broncos trounced the Carolina Panthers 24 – 10.

But we are more interested in the other sports event that literally galvanises the nation every year in March – "The Big Dance".

You may now well ask yourselves and me whether the Americans are really into Ballroom dancing in such a big way – and why you have never even noticed. Mind you, maybe POTUS has triggered a huge tango revival with his widely televised moves during a state visit to Argentina this week.

Well, to lift the secret, this particular athletic milestone also goes by the name "March Madness". And if this still doesn't ring a bell, please let me explain.

Before I do, however, I want to clarify something. When I started writing this blog post on Monday, from the very beginning I had intended it to be entitled "March Madness", as usual starting off with a particular thought and not knowing where it would eventually lead me. Since then, however, the unspeakable atrocities in Brussels happened on Tuesday, and while up to this point I have stuck to my initial Game Plan, some of what follows will be influenced – no, dictated – by what we all saw, heard, and read in the news media.

Declaration of interest: I lived in the Brussels area with my family for eleven years, from 2001 through 2012, and I don't even know how many, hundreds of times I have passed through that airport and used that Metro station. To me, this is all very "close to home", and I feel deeply for the Belgian and European capital and all my friends and acquaintances living there. My sympathies go out to the victims, and my thoughts are with their families and friends.

In a nutshell, it could easily have been me or someone close to me. Luckily, it wasn't.

So, back to "March Madness". First of all, note the power of the alliteration, a stylistic literary device identified by the repeated sound of the first consonant in a series of multiple words. Like other such tools of rhetoric – tricolon, the Rule of Three – it is employed to drive home a point of particular importance to the orator.

Anyhow, Americans just love their alliterations, as witnessed by their frequent use in famous speeches of their former (and present) Presidents.

The most common example is John F. Kennedy's Inaugural Address of 20 January, 1961, where he used alliteration twenty-one times throughout his speech. Just savour the last paragraph:

"Finally, whether you are citizens of America or citizens of the world, ask of us here the same high standards of strength and sacrifice which we ask of you. With a good conscience our only sure reward, with history the final judge of our deeds, let us go forth to lead the land we love, asking His blessing and His help, but knowing that here on earth God's work must truly be our own."

Three more examples:

"This generation of soldiers, sailors, airmen, Marines, and Coast Guardsmen have volunteered in the time of certain danger. They are part of the finest fighting force that the world has ever known. They have served tour after tour of duty in distant, different, and difficult places...They are men and women -- white, black, and brown -- of all faiths and all stations -- all Americans, serving together to protect our people, while giving others half a world away the chance to lead a better life....In today's wars, there's not always a simple ceremony that signals our troops' success -- no surrender papers to be signed, or capital to be claimed...." Barack Obama, Fort Hood Memorial Service Speech (10 November 2009)

"And our nation itself is testimony to the love our veterans have had for it and for us. All for which America stands is safe today because brave men and women have been ready to face the fire at freedom's front." Ronald Reagan, Address at the Vietnam Veterans' Memorial, Washington D.C. (11 November 1988)

Finally, the classic of all classics (and by the way, one of the greatest speeches ever written and delivered):

"Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal." Abraham Lincoln, Gettysburg Address (19 November 1863).

It's not (just) what they say – it's the way they say it. "Mamma Mia!" Duh.

So, again, back to "March Madness".

By way of a definition, this is in fact a single-elimination tournament played each spring in the United States, currently featuring 68 college basketball teams, to determine the national championship of the major college basketball teams. Over the period of three weeks, with the games being played at different neutral venues on the weekends, this is one of the other two BIG sporting event that structure the Americans' calendar year in addition to the Super Bowl.

And much more than the professional NFL championship, this one mobilises the masses as everyone roots for their "school", as in college or university.

Do you know the term "wear your colours" in support of a certain sports team? Well, during March Madness a few years ago I once in all innocence wore a light blue sweater (of the meteorologically no-longer-needed category defined above) to a casual dinner party hosted by American ex-pats in Belgium, and the hostess was all over me, in an innocent sort of way I hasten to add, as she thought I had attended the University of North Carolina as she had.

One important aspect of "March Madness" is the art of "Bracketology" by which Americans try to predict the winner of the tournament as soon as the draw of the final 64 teams, the tournament "bracket", is published. It is a well-known fact that Barack Obama is anything but immune to this craze, and according to reliable sources, he is pretty good at it, too. I just hope it still leaves him enough time to devote to Kremlinology – trying to work out what goes on behind the thick red walls of the Russian government's seat in Moscow.

Inside and outside the White House, every self-respecting workplace has its own competition, and there's a lot of betting going on around "The Big Dance". And we are speaking serious money.

By the way, "March Madness" also uses the power of alliteration in the way it labels the various final stages of the tournament – "Sweet Sixteen", "Elite Eight" (well, strictly speaking that's an assonance actually: vowels instead of consonants), and "Final Four". This year, the national championship game will be played in Houston on 4 April. This weekend, it's the Sweet Sixteen and Elite Eight rounds.

Using calendar milestones to structure a narrative is also quite a popular device in literature and performing arts. Check out the movie One Day (2011), starring Anne Hathaway and Jim Sturgess: "After spending the night together after their college graduation, Dexter (JS) and Em (AH) are shown each year on the same date to see where they are in their lives. They are sometimes together, sometimes not, on that day." (IMDb) While not the biggest of box office hits, it's actually quite clever and enjoyable.

Or The Family Stone (2005), a romantic movie set at Christmas in two consecutive years. Starring Sarah Jessica Parker, Dermot Mulroney, Rachel McAdams, and Diane Keaton, it is filmed in the beautiful small town of Madison, New Jersey, and on the campus of Drew University.

And finally, Draft Day (2014) with Kevin Kostner and Jennifer Garner, telling the story of the three-day period in May every year when the NFL teams select eligible College players.

The list would not be complete without mentioning Any Given Sunday (1999), directed by Oliver Stone and starring Al Pacino, Dennis Quaid, and Cameron Diaz. Still with the best pep talk in (sports) movie history: "Inch by inch"…

And now, I can no longer avoid facing the unexpected, horrible, yet sadly real-world meaning the term "March Madness" has taken on this month.

A friend living in Istanbul, this beautiful, vibrant city, told me that when using the public transport system he asks himself, "Am I walking too fast down this platform?" (i.e., running into a bomb) or "Am I strolling too slowly?" (i.e., not quickly enough to get away from a possible detonation in my back).

Then the seemingly endless, unstoppable flow of human misery fleeing Syria and neighbouring countries just for their families to survive. The intolerable situation in the North Aegean Sea and on the Greek islands there that find themselves exposed as the "first port of call" in Europe. And the "deal" the EU have now struck with Turkey, or rather, the Erdogan regime.

On the same day the EU leaders signed the agreement with Turkey's Prime Minister Ahmet Davutoglu, his country's President, Recep Tayyip Erdogan stated in public: "Democracy, freedom, and the rule of law… For us, these words have absolutely no value any longer." What a strange bedfellow for Europe. How is that ever going to work?

And doesn't the EU's perceived sell-out make Brexit all the more plausible? I mean, why stay if those timeless common values are jettisoned for the sake of short-term expediency?

Linked to the intolerable TV images from the Aegean, the latest election results in three German Bundesländer, unsurprisingly giving the right-wing, anti-immigration, and plain demagogical Alternative für Deutschland huge representation in these regional parliaments.

And why, pray can the Spaniards not just put their heads down, overcome their relatively petty differences, and form a government of national unity in times of turmoil?

I will still not be drawn into commenting at length on the travesty unfolding in the U.S. presidential primaries which seems for now to be leading to the equally unavoidable and unpalatable show-down between Hillary "My Turn" Clinton and Donald "The Donald" Trump.

As a message to the former, however, I did relate to something an American comedians' duo recently said (and yes, they do support Trump):

"You don't get to play Musical Chairs with the White House."

So I've been thinkin'.

Is there something to the third month of the year that justifies the label "March Madness" outside of and beyond a mere U.S. college basketball championship tournament?

Well, let's return to Antiquity: We are all familiar with the infamous "Ides of March".

By way of a refresher, this is the day on the Roman calendar that corresponds to 15 March. It was marked by several religious observances and became notorious as the date of the assassination of Julius Caesar in 44 BC. The death of Caesar made the Ides of March a turning point in Roman, and indeed world, history, triggering a protracted civil war that ended in the transition from the historical period known as the Roman Republic to what became the Roman Empire. Along the way, it also threw the world as it was known then into chaos, war, and immeasurable suffering for more than a decade.

So, what about the month of March in history – did it bring mostly good news or bad?

I did some preliminary research and found a lot of seriously regrettable events. The start of the civil war in Syria is dated 15 March 2011. The Ides of March.

History, they say, doesn't repeat itself, but it rhymes.

But statistically, March shouldn't really be any worse than the other eleven months we use to structure the year.

So if so inclined, try to find the top (or rather, bottom) three for each of them in history.

March and its Madness will soon be over. And I hope we will not have to reflect on April Atrocities (couldn't resist) the next time I write.

For now, there is something to look forward to – Easter, more than a mere milestone in the highly structured Church calendar year. While recurring annually, it is a landmark, the landmark. I mean, without Easter, no Christianity.

Regardless of their faith, this is the time of year many people associate with a fresh start, much more so than 1 January. At least in the northern hemisphere, this surely is related to spring, Nature's new beginning (well, it doesn't always quite work out that way).

And this year the association is even more potent as coming Sunday also marks the beginning of European Summer Time, giving those of us living there an additional hour of daylight. I love it.

In the United States, there is another milestone date that can coincide with Easter or, as it does this year, follow shortly after as it always falls in the first week of April. And even more than the Super Bowl and the Big Dance, it has an additional significance of a quasi-religious nature – "Opening Day", the day on which the professional Baseball leagues begin their regular season.

I will never forget the Easter Sunday sermon that once got an American reverend in an international Episcopal congregation in Belgium into a lot of trouble with the predominantly British / Anglican vestry.

In a wonderful, moving delivery with a perfectly climactic build-up, he went on and on about Nature's awakening, the world being renewed, humanity being granted a fresh beginning, and the opportunity to start all over again, leading up to the final resounding roar - no, not of "Christ is risen", but rather: "Play Ball!", the traditional exclamation that opens up the new baseball season.

The Brits were "not amused", as you can well imagine.

But the Americans sitting in the church pews that Easter Sunday, and to whom Opening Day does serve as a powerful symbol of rebirth, absolutely got it.

Thomas Boswell, a well-respected sports columnist with the Washington Post, published a book entitled Why Time Begins on Opening Day (1984), and this just about sums it up.

In the words of John Vecsey, another American author and sports columnist writing for The New York Times:

"There is no sports event like Opening Day of baseball, the sense of beating back the forces of darkness and the National Football League."

If you really want to know everything about professional baseball, check out his book, Baseball: A History of America's Favorite Game (2006).

I still maintain that, while Baseball may be the Americans' favourite game, Football is the archetypal American sport - based as it is on the principle of gaining ground, "inch by inch", foot by foot, and yard by yard, which replicates how the North American Continent was won and the nation built. If you were a Native American and at the receiving end of this process, it sucked of course...

But Opening Day is nonetheless right up there with the Super Bowl and the Big Dance.

So, bring on Sunday 3 April when the "Boys of Summer" (Don Henley, 1984) will finally return while March Madness bows out. So who misses soccer?

Let's all "Play Ball"!

Away

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I've been away, far away. And I could only just resist the temptation to go AWOL (Absent without Leave).

But then, not a deserter by nature, I came back of course. Not sure it was the right thing to do though.

Faraway travel to me does not really define itself by the distance covered – although the thought of crossing the globe in a matter of one, albeit long, flight is awe-inspiring. What makes it really tangible to me is time zones and how contemporary telecommunications bridge them.

Here is what I mean: I get up in the morning in Thailand (there, I've given it away), turn on the TV as I will to catch the news, switch to CNN and Fox – back and forth, channel hopping for the sheer entertainment value of it – and follow live (l-i-v-e) the shenanigans of the Presidential primaries in the U.S. Heated exchanges between the candidates, town halls, results coming in from the various caucuses, and the ever-so-important pundits commenting on it from the studio. All live, evening prime time on the East Coast and morning TV in Phuket. The time difference is exactly twelve hours.

The United States covers four time zones; Russia, eleven – awesome. How you govern the Eastern-most oblast from Moscow is a mystery to me. But then, maybe they don't and let the good folks out there just get on with it.

I had a colleague many years ago who used to work in the American Consulate in Vladivostok. On a clear night, they see the lights in Japan. But then, to mirror the experience as it were, Sarah Palin, ex-candidate for the Vice Presidency as running mate of Senator John McCain in 2008, famously could see Russia from her back yard in Alaska, making her a bona fide expert on all things to do with that country (and foreign policy at large). At least that's what she claimed.

I still resist commenting on the unfolding travesty in the United States, but if you want to trace what's happening now among and to the Republicans back to its origin, you will find it right there. Ms Palin, the darling of the Tea Party movement being elevated to a position of such eminence, influence, and mainstream respectability by the Grand Old Party's establishment that has proven irreversible since. Proverbially, the Vice President is "only one heartbeat away" from the Oval Office. Perish the thought.

Anyhow, this blog is not about a proud (and yes, great) nation of 300 million people faced with having to choose between Donald "The Donald" Trump and Hillary "My Turn" Clinton for the highest office they get to fill, the "Leader of the Free World" at that, unless something unexpected still happens.

This is about me being away, far away, and experiencing it through time zones. And then some.

Thailand is a wonderful country, and if you haven't been, I strongly encourage you to visit. It rightfully prides itself of never having been conquered, occupied, or ruled by foreign powers in its history.

While 1066 is also a while ago, it is even more impressive than Britain's track record in this domain, especially since Siam, as it was formerly known, is anything but an island, located as it is at the centre of the Indochinese peninsula in Mainland Southeast Asia. It is neighboured to the north by Myanmar and Laos, to the east by Laos and Cambodia, to the south by the Gulf of Thailand and Malaysia, and to the west by the Andaman Sea and the southern extremity of Myanmar. Plenty of land borders for invaders to cross. But it has only ever attracted visitors.

I just love looking at maps. Don't you? As a child, I learned European geography by looking up the locations of exotic-sounding football teams. And as a student, I learned history does not only take place in time, but also in topography. How did Hannibal and his elephants ever manage to cross the Alps?

Coming back to the discussion of world records, the Thai also have the longest-serving head of state, King Bhumibol Adulyadej who has reigned since 9 June 1946. Fun fact: The runner-up in this particular non-Olympic discipline is Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II (since 6 February 1952).

Travel is a delightful thing, provided it's of the leisurely kind of course. Many a tourist much more important, insightful, and eloquent than I have remarked, commented, and waxed lyrical about it. Here's a sample:

"To travel is to live." Hans Christian Andersen (1805 – 1875) In addition to the fairy tales that made this Danish author famous, he wrote many other things, including extensive travelogues.

"Travel makes one modest. You see what a tiny place you occupy in the world." Gustave Flaubert, French novelist (1821 – 1880)

"The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page." Augustine of Hippo, Christian theologian and philosopher, aka Saint Augustine (354 – 430)

But before heading out, also heed this warning:

"Never travel faster than your guardian angel can fly." Mother Teresa (1910 – 1997)

In literature, films, and popular music, many works are all about journeys. Lord Byron's, the Shelleys', and other Romantics' "Grand Tour"; Goethe's Italian Journey (published 1816/17); and John Steinbeck's Travels with Charley (1962; the title character was his poodle dog by the way), to name just three variations on a theme. And of course, Jack Kerouac's On the Road (1957).

A real treat is also Joseph Freiherr von Eichendorff's romantic novella Aus dem Leben eines Taugenichts (Memoirs of a Good-For-Nothing), published in 1826, whose main themes are wanderlust and romance. One critic stated it was the "personification of love of nature and an obsession with hiking."

Then, there is Hollywood (and other nations' cinematographic industries no doubt that I am less familiar with). The genre of The Road Movie is a classic (check out Thelma & Louise of 1991 with Susan Sarandon, Geena Davis, and a very young Brad Pitt; and Elizabethtown of 2005 with Orlando Bloom, Kirsten Dunst, and a not-so-young anymore but still rather special Susan Sarandon – it's very humorous, and in addition to a great sound track it boasts the longest-ever telephone conversation in movie history), but there are also other films that revolve around travel and "being away".

Not always are these trips altogether pleasurable. Movies dealing with holidays gone terribly wrong are maybe not popular enough to form a stand-alone genre of their own, but still sufficient in numbers to allow for a Top Three ranking.

Number Three: A Cry in The Night (1988), the true story of Azaria Chamberlain, a baby girl that disappeared in the Australian outback in 1980, presumably dragged off into the wilderness in a dingo attack. The mother, Lindy Chamberlain, was accused of having murdered her child, fought for a very long time to prove her innocence, and was only finally acquitted in 2012, after 32 years and a total of four inquests, by an Australian court. Meryl Streep memorably plays her in the movie which is every bit as scary as the tale it tells. – More about just disappearing later.

Number Two: The Beach (2000) with Leonardo di Caprio (and boy, aren't we glad he finally got his Oscar for The Revenant, and we can all get on with our lives now) as a twenty-something seeking a tropical paradise on a remote Thai coast (filmed on Phi Phi island, pretty seedy nowadays), and finding anything but. The eponymous novel by Alex Garland (published in 1996) which the film is based on is absolutely brilliant, but the movie itself is also outstanding, a rare combination.

And speaking of this year's Academy Awards – I can't resist mentioning I got the Oscar for Mark Rylance as Best Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role in Bridge of Spies right, while most of the pundits' money was on Sylvester Stallone in Creed.

Number One: Knife in the Water (1962) by Roman Polanski. Filmed in Polish (the original title, for the purists, is Noz w wodzie) and black-and-white, it tells the story of an ageing couple who take on board of their sailing boat a young hitchhiker. And that's when things start unravelling – no spoilers. Pure suspense, told with minimalist means.

And an honourable mention must go to Don't Look Now (1972) with Julie Christie and Donald Sutherland, and directed by Nicholas Roeg. It's the harrowing story of a married couple trying to get over the accidental death of their little daughter by going on a trip to Venice. Once there, however, the horror amplifies. That said, watch out for the sex scene…

Of course, there are also many feel-good movies about holidays that brought pure bliss. Noticeably, they seem to be of a lesser quality, albeit entertaining in their own way. So are misfortune, woe, and tragedy more likely to inspire great art? Discuss.

You could also say these films were plain silly, while entertaining, and best consumed with a drink or two, and not be far off the mark. But after all, that's how a great vacation is supposed to be, right? Mine was.

To set the record straight, I did read a good book – well, three really, nowadays marketed together – that was recommended to me by a friend: David Lodge, The Campus Trilogy (individually published as Changing Places in 1975; Small World in 1984; and Nice Work in 1988). It's a wonderfully satirical take on the academic scene at UK and U.S. universities, on life in these two very different countries in the Eighties and Nineties, and on la condition humaine at large.

Here's a sample of great quotes, all from Part Three, Nice Work:

"Hypocrisy is the homage vice pays to virtue." Attributed to François de La Rochefoucauld (1613 – 1680), a French author of maxims.

"Sometimes when I'm lying awake in the small hours, instead of counting sheep, I count the things I've never done." (Don't let it get to that stage in your lives, please.)

"'Basil, you're being paranoid.' 'Even paranoids have unfaithful girlfriends.'"

This one is right up there with my other favourite quotes on paranoia:

"Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't after you." Joseph Heller (1923 – 1999), Catch-22 (1961)

"Only the paranoid survive." Andy Gove, ex-CEO Intel

Finally, I have completed a Top Three in this category.

Coming back to the theme of travel in moving pictures - Top Three of silly movies?

Bronze Medal: The Holiday (2006) with Kate Winslett and Cameron Diaz about two women with broken hearts who swap their homes (in the English countryside and in Los Angeles) and, guess what, both meet somebody locally (Jack Black and Jude Law, respectively) with whom they fall in love. Worth looking out for in this film is Eli Wallach as Arthur, an octogenarian (at least) film script writer from the Golden Age of Hollywood. He died in 2014, aged 98.

Silver Medal: Letters to Julia (2010) with the delightful Amanda Seyfried as a young, budding writer who visits the Italian town Verona (the setting for Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet of course) and discovers old love letters written by a then equally young woman called Julia. If you want to see the actress in a serious and very different film, check out Chloe (2009), an erotic thriller with Julianne Moore and Liam Neeson as co-stars. Ms Seyfried has inter alia since also starred in Les Misérables (2012) and in the hilariously funny A Million Ways to Die in the West (2014).

Gold Medal (and this just because I'm still in a playful post-Phuket kind-of-mood, so don't take it too seriously): Under the Tuscan Sun (2003) with Diane Lane as a freshly-divorced writer (again) who travels to Italy and decides on a whim to buy a villa there. The reason I remember it, apart from the beautiful pictures of the regional landscape, is the tagline of the tour operator Ms Lane travels with. That company caters predominantly to a homosexual clientele, and their motto is: "Gay and Away". You have to love it!

Honourable mention (category Silliness): Eat, Pray, Love (2010) with Julia Roberts. I really have nothing to say about this movie, except that it's right up there with the equally unspeakable Mamma Mia (2008), which in turn is only redeemed by the fact that Meryl Streep and Amanda Seyfried (again) both star in it, playing, you guessed it, mother and daughter.

When it comes to popular music, unsurprisingly travel and getting away is also a frequent theme:

"Would you like to ride in my beautiful balloon?
Would you like to glide in my beautiful balloon?
We could float among the stars together, you and I

"For we can fly, we can fly
Up, up and away
My beautiful, my beautiful balloon"

The Fifth Dimension, "Up Up and Away" (1967)

And many others. Your Top Three? ACDC's "Highway to Hell" (1979) anyone?

So, meanwhile, back in Phuket, aside from walking along kilometres of pristine beach, lounging by the pool, and hitting the bar at beer o'clock sharp for the amazing sunsets (and reading The Campus Trilogy of course), I did what any self-respecting tourist will do in order to support the local economy – I went shopping, more than once.

After all, we can all agree a holiday is not the same without bringing back some tangible evidence of the good time you had. Memorabilia – things that are worth remembering.

So I got myself two very nice, fashionable tee-shirts by Jim Thompson, the Thai equivalent to Shanghai Tang if you like. But while the founder of the latter, Sir David Tang is still very much alive and present (born in 1954; I'm a serious admirer of his beyond the great fashion brand he created), Jim Thompson is not.

Which brings me back to the theme of being away or going AWOL.

You see, here's the story – and what a story it is:

James Harrison Wilson Thompson was an American businessman born in Greenville, Delaware in 1906 who in the 1950s and 1960s played a big role in revitalising a major source of wealth in his chosen host country: TIME magazine claimed "he almost singlehandedly saved Thailand's vital silk industry from extinction". ("BUSINESS ABROAD: The Silk King", Monday, 21 April 1958")

His company achieved a break-through in 1951 when its fabrics were used for the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical, The King and I. This gave birth to the 1956 Hollywood movie starring Yul Brynner and Deborah Kerr which won five Oscars. From then on, the business prospered.

Originally an architect by training, in World War II Thompson had also been an Asia field operative of the U.S. Office of Strategic Services (OSS), the forerunner of the CIA. A colourful character if ever there was one.

In 1958, he began what was to be the pinnacle of his architectural achievement, a new Bangkok residence to showcase the Asian art he had collected over time. Formed from parts of six antique Thai houses, his home (completed in 1959) sits on a klong (canal) across from the Bangkrua area of the city, where his weavers were then located. Now a museum, the Jim Thompson House is a must-see for anyone visiting Bangkok – do go, please, and don't be deterred by the many tourists. It really is something else.

Where, you may wonder, am I taking this?

Well, it's still all about going away or AWOL, right?

On Sunday, 26 March 1967, while vacationing in Malaysia's Cameron Highlands, Jim Thompson went for an early afternoon walk – and was never seen or heard of again.

When he failed to return by 6 pm, an extensive search was launched, including the police, the army, trekkers, Gurkhas, tourists, residents, mediums, scouts, missionaries, adventure seekers, American school students, and British servicemen convalescing at the resort.

At the end of the hunt, Thompson was not to be found, and no clues were unearthed. The official search lasted for eleven days, and sporadic additional initiatives went on for months.

Given his extraordinary life, as you can imagine, the case generated world-wide publicity and intense speculation, with most press reports and analysts contending that Thompson had been kidnapped (although no ransom note was forthcoming); had been murdered (although no body was ever found); had voluntarily left to do secret work in resolving the Vietnam conflict (although no evidence was presented); or was eliminated by business rivals (although, again, no proof on this emerged).

If this has tickled your interest, read the latest book on the unexplained disappearance by William Warren, Jim Thompson: The Unsolved Mystery (2012).

And bear with me as I now just have to draft my own list of The Top Ten of Famous People Who Simply Vanished – but don't worry, Jim Thompson remains my personal favourite.

Note: I hate to be harsh, but there is a ground rule to this exercise. If your only claim to fame is disappearing from the face of the earth without having been a celebrity of whatever kind before, you don't qualify.

This applies to the above-mentioned baby girl allegedly abducted by dingo in the Australian Outback as much as to poor Madeleine McCann who sadly disappeared in 2007 aged three after being left asleep in the unlocked ground-floor bedroom of her family's rented holiday apartment in the Algarve, Portugal while her parents dined with friends at a nearby local restaurant. And yes, there must be another movie in the making here, but I guess the potential legal implications are just too risky for the time being.

And equally out-of-scope is the most recent, and maybe biggest, of unsolved mysteries in the history of civil aviation: Two years ago this week, on 8 March 2014, Malaysia Airlines Flight 370 disappeared after leaving Kuala Lumpur with destination Beijing, carrying 293 people. No trace of the Boeing 777 has been found except for a wing part on a beach of the island Réunion in the Indian Ocean last year and, possibly, part of a tail section discovered last weekend on the Mozambique coast.

So, having defined the terms of reference, here we go in strictly chronological order:

The Top Ten of Famous People Who Simply Vanished

1483 – The Princes in the Tower, Edward V of England and Richard of Shrewsbury, first Duke of York, sons of King Edward IV of England and Elizabeth Woodville. On their father's death, aged twelve and nine, they were placed in the Tower of London (which at that time served as a fortress and a royal palace as well as a prison) by their uncle Richard III of England (1452 – 1485). All-in-all a not-so-nice guy, what is believed to be his remains was excavated under a parking lot in Leicester only in 2012 and reburied in Leicester Cathedral in 2015 upon completion of extensive DNA testing that is now accepted to have confirmed his identity. Car park: hold the thought. – Neither of the Princes was ever seen in public again, and their fate to this day is still unknown. The remains of four children have been found on-site, but they have not been subjected to DNA analysis that could positively identify them.

1857 – Solomon Northup (born 1807 or 1808), American author and abolitionist. He is most notable for his book Twelve Years a Slave (1853; the eponymous Hollywood movie directed by Steve McQueen won the Academy Award for Best Picture in 2014), in which he details his kidnapping and subsequent sale into slavery. Northup did not return to his family from a book-promoting tour. No contemporary evidence documents him after 1857. Historians are divided on whether he was kidnapped once again and sold back into slavery or simply died of natural causes.

1909 – Joshua Slocum (born 1844), Canadian-American seafarer and the first man to sail single-handedly around the world (1895–1898). He disappeared after setting sail alone from Martha's Vineyard, an island south of Cape Cod in Massachusetts, bound for South America, aboard the same sloop Spray he had used for his circumnavigation.

1928 – Roald Amundsen (born 1872), Norwegian Arctic explorer and the first man to reach the South Pole. He vanished on a search-and-rescue mission for Umberto Nobile and other survivors of the crashed airship Italia in the Arctic.

1937 – Amelia Earhart (born 1897), famous American aviator. She was the first woman to fly solo across the Atlantic Ocean. During the attempt to complete a flight around the globe, she and her navigator, Fred Noonan (44), disappeared over the central Pacific in the vicinity of Howland Island, on 2 July.

1944 – Glenn Miller (born 1904), the popular American big band musician and bandleader. The best-selling recording artist between 1939 and 1943, he was en route from England to France on 15 December 1944, to play for troops in recently liberated Paris, when the aircraft on which he was a passenger was lost over the English Channel. The plane and those on board have never been located. As a U.S. military officer who vanished in wartime, Miller continues to this day to be listed officially as MIA ("missing in action").

Declaration of interest: Due to my father's love of swing music in general, and Glenn Miller in particular, I have always been intrigued by this improbable story. I mean, even in those days, what's so risky about flying across The Channel.

Having been exposed to his music aplenty at home while growing up, I feel qualified to name my favourite three Glenn Miller tunes: "In the Mood", "Chattanooga Choo Choo", and "Tuxedo Junction". I am sure my children are able to do the same for Eagles songs. As I am writing this, the radio station SAM FM is playing "Hotel California". I swear. Here's to Glenn Frey!

1944 – Antoine de Saint-Exupéry (born 1900), French author (Vol de nuit, 1931; Le petit prince, 1943) and aviator. He was last seen when flying a reconnaissance mission out of Corsica in preparation for the Allied invasion of Southern France. The remains of his aircraft, found at sea off Marseille, were identified in 2004.

1945 – Raoul Wallenberg (born 1912), Swedish diplomat credited with saving the lives of at least 20,000 Hungarian Jews during the Holocaust. He was arrested on espionage charges in Budapest following the arrival of the Red Army at the end of World War II. His subsequent fate remains a mystery despite hundreds of purported sightings in Soviet prisons, some as recent as the 1980s. In 2001, after ten years of research, a Swedish-Russian panel concluded that Wallenberg probably died or was executed in Soviet custody on 17 July 1947, but to date no hard evidence has been found to confirm this. In 2010, documents from Russian archives surfaced suggesting he was alive after the presumed execution date.

1967 – Jim Thompson. All is said.

1975 – Jimmy Hoffa (born 1913), U.S. trade union leader and President of the International Brotherhood of Teamsters (not to be messed with). He disappeared from the parking lot of a restaurant, where it is believed he was to meet with two ill-reputed Mafia leaders. Be careful whom you befriend or indeed upset in car parks.
I find all of these stories (and there are more) downright fascinating, and they are probably fated to remain mysteries forever.

A closing thought if I may.

Have you at some point given yourself up to the romantic idea of just vanishing, disappearing, and starting out afresh somewhere else on the other side of the globe?
Well, I have. Purely theoretically of course, as a beginning (in which case the plot would need to be told in flash-backs) or climactic ending to my elusive first novel.

It's not hard to construe the story. You are booked on a flight; you check in so you are on the passenger list, but carrying only hand luggage; you are flush with cash (no credit card paper trail); and equipped with a new passport, strictly speaking illegal of course, in another name; you choose to miss boarding; and there you are, quietly strolling out of the airport and into your new life. 

Not even AWOL. Just a civilian gone UF – Unaccounted For.

What our protagonist would be running from I haven't decided yet – the tax authorities; the Mob (see Jimmy Hoffa); or that ultimate of all crimes, The Perfect Murder.

On this last, and in the interest of morality, let me state there is no such thing of course. If you don't believe me, watch Woody Allen's latest film, Irrational Man (2015), starring Joaquin Phoenix and Emma Stone.

But short of this utopian scenario, just being on a beach in Thailand has a lot to offer and does it for me. Not least in combination with modern technology that makes bridging time zones, following U.S. politics, and, importantly, watching European football games live a piece of cake.

I could easily work out of my office in Phuket. If one day I choose to so and you need to speak to me, just bear in mind the time difference and make sure not to call me before beer o'clock, please.