This morning i'm jumping on a taxi boat to cruise down the klong to Government House, see if i can get some better pictures of soldiers. I want tanks. Tanks and flowers. The taxi boats are mad, you literally have to jump on and off, they don't stop still till they reach their destination. The boatman who does the indian rope-and-bollard trick communicates with the driver with an eardrum-perforating whistle. One whistle means slow, two means sideways, three short sharp blasts means fucking hell you've crushed a passenger's leg.