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Chanthaburi delight 

It's either a guarded secret or a clever conspiracy. Chanthaburi (Chan'buri) Province merits just three pages in the Lonely Planet Guide to Thailand, while Chiang Mai gets a whopping 70. Perhaps Chanthaburians are just smart. They have seen the results of other provinces parading their wares to all and sundry. Chiang Mai is no longer a peaceful haven of tinkle-belled wats and sleepy sois. Many say it's ruined, lost its soul. Sold out.
First impressions are dangerous and invaluable. Dangerous because the visitor doesn't know the intricate forces that shape a region, invaluable because they can see the result of the dynamics that formed it. Entering Chanthaburi the effects are tangible within a few kilometres. Just 300 km southeast of Bangkok, here is a green, forested, hilly, orchard filled landscape. Roadside homes and smallholdings have a neat, cared-for look. Many have rows of fruit trees right up to the house. There is a quiet sense of pride, achievement, and understated prosperity. Wats and waterfalls abound. There are no billboards screaming at you along the excellent roads. It doesn't advertise itself. It makes Rayong look like a garbage dump.
Perhaps Chanthaburi has a better class of godfather. Pulled over for an offence that doesn't exist, the police officer, having put the Bt200 in his pocket said: "This is the last time I am going to help you," which was a nice touch seeing it was the first time we'd ever met.
The steep bank of hills just east of Chanthaburi town - City of the Moon - are shrouded in cloud. The old town below has a Vietnamese flavour. The first wave of refugees fled religious persecution back in Vietnam in the 19th century, the second wave arrived between the 1920s and 40s fleeing French rule. In between, the French occupied the town from 1893 to 1905. Timing is everything.
A huge Catholic church dominates the old town, inside which an elderly Thai woman wears a beatific expression that suggests if she hasn't actually met Jesus yet, she knows she's in the right place should he decide to turn up. On the steps of the Catholic College across the leafy square a French priest talks quietly to a group of Thai sisters wearing beautiful clerical robes. A Vatican touch.
At an archaeological dig outside the town workers uncover ancient foundation stones that once formed part of the original city. They were having a hard time piecing together the ruins as they had not just fallen down, they had also been blown up.
By whom? "The French," says the overseer, waving an arm at some distant point in time and place.
How? "Cannon."
For beaches, turn right about 30 km before you reach town. Just follow the only road. When you reach the sea there are a few resorts in either direction with bungalows set amid palm trees at both Hat Khung Wiman and Laem Sadet.
There are no bars, no noise, few cars and even less foreigners. The beaches are long, curved, clean and practically empty. Havens from stress. The only sound is the sea. Bliss. What's more, much of the prime real estate belongs to institutes for marine research, fishing, and mangrove regeneration - many under royal patronage. The only signs say: "Please Don't". Preservation abounds. Unable to stop smiling at nature, a visitor could expect David Attenborough to come out of the deep herbaceous border to explain why we have facial expressions.
The Maldives Beach Resort at Laem Sadet couldn't be closer to the water without being swept out to sea. A white walled, red tiled affair, it's a work in progress, says the affable Niphan Nawarasuthikul, who began developing the place a couple of years ago. When will it be finished?
"When I have enough money," he replied with a wry grin.
The rooms are roomy, well appointed and pricey. But the food was excellent and cheap. Where is it? Not telling you. Call 039- 369100-3. They will.
In this province, which is short on public transport and big on size and diversity going anywhere ideally requires wheels. So, rent some (See Travel Tips). You can be there in under three hours. A Sistine fingertip away.
Being persuaded to eat at a roadside restaurant in Pattaya on the way home was a mistake - and a confirmation. The fish was an accident involving a hairdryer and an aquarium, the flat 'chick supreem' was a battered hen, and the wine had a sex change to vinegar. They left the credit-card slip open. Dream on.

By Roger Beaumont
  Available at Bookazine

The Earl, the Lady and the Knight

High society parties, adultery and murder in colonial Kenya
By David Cocksedge - True Crime series
IN THE EARLY 1940's whilst London was being pounded to rubble by German bombs during the blitz, wealthy aristocratic British colonials in Kenya were living a high life of endless parties, alcohol abuse and spouse-swapping. Just add murder to this soap opera world, and you have all the ingredients of one hell of a story. So good, in fact, that it formed the basis of a 1987 movie called 'White Mischief', starring Charles Dance, Sarah Miles, John Hurt and Joss Ackland.
Let's start with the murder. At 5.30am on 24 January 1941 it was reported to Chief Inspector Herbert Langham that a car had been discovered overhanging a gravel pit on the Ngong Road, Nairobi. On the floor beside the driver's seat was the body of Jocelyn Victor Hay (39), Earl of Errol and Baron Kilmarnock, Military Secretary and Assistant Director of Manpower in Kenya. Dressed in his habitual captain's uniform, he was in a kneeling position, the top of his head an inch from the floor of the vehicle. It appeared that the body had been tucked up after falling from the seat. The post-mortem examination determined that the cause of death had been a .32 calibre bullet that had entered below the Earl's left ear and was found lodged in the medulla of the brain.
Policemen examining the car for clues found traces of blood on the windscreen and on the driver's seat. In addition to the bullet extracted from Errol's brain, another was found buried in the hood of the car. Ballistics experts surmised that this had been the killer's first shot. The pathologist's view was that the murderer had probably been outside the car, fired one round into the hood, then poked the gun inside and fired into Errol's head at close range, from between 9 to 3 inches away: there were black power burns around the entry wound. His theory was that after shooting the Earl, the killer had entered the car, moved Errol's body to the passenger side and tipped it down, then started the engine and headed for the pit. Just before the vehicle stalled into the gravel pit, he (or she) had leapt out and made off into the night. No fingerprints of value were found on the car and no casts were made of footprints in the vicinity of the crime scene.
The obvious suspect was Sir Henry John Delves Broughton. The scandal of his wife's affair with the handsome Earl of Errol was the gossip of the expat community in Kenya. The witty and charming Errol, though an aristocrat, had no great wealth and was dependent on his government appointment and his pay as a British Army captain. Twice divorced, he was a compulsive womaniser who had enjoyed many affairs among the local British community in Nairobi. He had known Sir Delves ('Jock') Broughton in Britain, and the two men had been good friends. Broughton (56) had married 26-year-old Diana Caldwell on 5 November 1940 after meeting her on the sea voyage to Kenya from England. And when his young bride was first introduced to the dashing Earl of Errol, known as 'Josh' to his friends, the attraction had been immediate - and mutual.
Sir Delves and Lady Diana Broughton entertained lavishly at their home in Karen House and at first Jock saw no harm in her growing friendship with the Earl. He seemed flattered at the attention that young men paid to his beautiful wife and often said that only
a broadminded approach could make his marriage work and keep Lady Broughton happy.
"One must keep a young wife amused" he often said. Even when Lady Diana and the Earl kissed and fondled openly after dancing together at a party at the High Commissioner's residence, Jock Broughton seemed unconcerned. But on another occasion, when well fueled with whiskey, he is alleged to have confided bitterly to friends, "That philandering bastard has stolen my wife".
When Lady Diana refused to accompany him on a trip to Ceylon (Sri Lanka) in an attempt to repair their marriage; Broughton finally decided to cut his losses. Diana also informed him that she and Errol were deeply in love. Broughton asked that she remain with him for appearances sake whilst he finalised divorce proceedings and left for Ceylon alone. On the evening of 23 January at the Muthaiga Club, he even toasted his wife and Errol with champagne. "To Diana and Josh. I want to wish them every happiness in the future. And may their union be blessed with an heir - to Diana and Josh, and their future heir!" He said. After a startled silence, all others present applauded and joined in the toast. Sir Delves Broughton was being the perfect English gentleman, leaving the field to a younger man, even though it grieved him deeply to do so.
He and Lady Carberry, a houseguest, left the club at 1.30am, leaving Errol and Lady Diana to dance together at the Claremont. Broughton asked Errol to bring his wife back home before 3am. On returning to Karen House, he retired to his own bedroom after drinking a nightcap with Lady Carberry. Josh Errol duly took Lady Diana home at about 2.30am, and then drove back along the Ngong Road - to his violent death.
The police were aware that on 21 January, Jock Broughton had reported that his two Colt revolvers, a .32 and a .45, had been stolen from his study, along with ammunition and some money. Investigating officers could find no trace of a break-in. Then they collected spent cartridges which Broughton had fired at the Nankyuki shooting range two months earlier, and ballistics experts discovered that they compared exactly with the two .32 slugs taken from the car and Errol's body. The stolen handguns seemed rather too convenient. Broughton was arrested and charged with murder on 14 March and the trial commenced in Nairobi two months later, attended by the cream of Kenya's British expatiate community. It was, quite simply, the best show in town.
Mr H Morris KC, a top criminal advocate in South Africa, defended Sir Delves Broughton. Broughton's legal advisers realised that Morris's wide knowledge of ballistics could win the day on the identification of the 'crime v Nankyuki bullets' and the calibre of the murder weapon. It was here that Mr Morris drove a coach and horses through the evidence of the Crown's expert witnesses. He determined that both sets of bullets had five right-hand rifiling grooves - and that Colt revolvers, without exception, all had six rifiling grooves. This meant that Broughton's missing .32 Colt could not possibly be the murder weapon. But the gun that was used to kill the Earl
had been fired at the Nankyui range.
The prosecution alleged that Broughton's toast to the lovers had been a sham. After bidding goodnight to Lady Carberry that evening, he had waited by the Ngong Road as Errol and his wife returned, then ambushed the Earl as he drove back alone. Testimony from witnesses indicated that he had fifty minutes to do the deed, and it was surmised that he may have shinned down a drainpipe outside his bedroom, killed Errol, ditched the car, hidden the gun, and then returned to the house. The defence alleged that Broughton, aged 56 and with a chronically injured wrist, was simply not athletic enough for this feat.
Prosecution witnesses, on the other hand, stated that Sir Delves, an accomplished big game hunter, had extraordinary powers of endurance and strength for a man of his age. Others stated that, in spite of all outward appearances, he was deeply resentful of Josh Errol taking his young wife from him. If the jury bought the Crown's theory, it was clearly premeditated murder, and Sir Delves Broughton would be on a short walk to the gallows.
For the defence, Mr Morris speculated that two or more people might have carried out the crime: several cuckolded husbands in Kenya would be happy to see The Earl dead, with Lord Broughton being an obvious suspect left to take the rap. It was confirmed that Errol had received death threats in the weeks preceding the murder.
In no less than 22 hours of cross-examination by the Attorney General however, Lord Broughton was rarely shaken in his evidence. On 1 July 1941, the jury's verdict of "Not Guilty!" came in after just three and a half hours of deliberation.
Sir Delves said later, "The judge looked furious. His summing-up was dead against me though he did instruct the jury that if they were not satisfied all the bullets were fired from the same gun, the Crown's case fell to the ground - the jury took him at his word". For all the expert ballistic witnesses, it was difficult to arrive at a conclusive verdict without the murder weapon from which test bullets could be fired. Sir Delves Broughton walked from the Nairobi courtroom a free man.
But he could not have been a very happy man. Unable to be reunited with Lady Diana, who was devastated at the death of her lover, Jock Broughton returned to England shortly after his acquittal. On 5 December 1942, exactly two years and a month after his marriage to Diana Caldwell, he was found dead in a Liverpool hotel room, where he had taken an overdose of sleeping pills washed down with brandy. He left his estate and his fortune to Lady Vera Broughton, his first wife, whom he had married in 1913. If Sir Henry John Delves Broughton had indeed murdered the Earl of Errol, he was not prepared to confess to the deed - even in a suicide note.
(Research - "Who shot the Earl of Errol?" by Benjamin Bennett, Xanadu Publications)

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