By Graham K. Rogers

So much for an 8am start. I am sitting in the bus -- some of my colleagues have gone outside for another smoke -- and it is 8:30am. The stench of diesel fumes has built up round the bus as the engines have been running since both buses arrived: power, air-conditioning.

Names are being checked. This is supposed to be the quiet bus, but I hear mention of a video being readied for viewing and the word "songs' was also mentioned. We had both later, although nobody watched and nobody listened.

One of the first things I found to my annoyance was that my DSLR camera was not working. I know I charged the battery a day or so before, but I had apparently left the camera on which discharged it. Someone else on the trip has the same model, so I was able to check that quickly at one of the planned stops.

Out of Nonthaburi the factory estates thin out and the rice fields take their place. Various stages of growth could be seen, from empty, flooded patches through sprouting shoots up to full, emerald coloured plants.

The water in the fields was dotted with herons and other fisher birds. This area was one of those north of Bangkok that experienced some of the worst of the flooding 12 months ago. Apart from a few lines on the concrete structures, you would not realise that now, unless you knew or were looking for the traces.

We arrived at a bridge over the Chao Phraya river where there were a number of rice barges tied up next to a yard. Two more -- huge, brown, beached wales -- were under construction on dry land.

Occasionally I access the Maps app on my iPhone and watched our progress, comparing the screen with what I could see outside the window to my left: accurate. Satellite images were less good, but then they always are here.

On the main northern highway, there were more industrial premises and estates. Labour is cheaper in the provinces; transport links to Bangkok and the airports are good. The road had been much improved since the last time I had ridden this way, when the surface had meant a bone-shaking ride: damaging to bike and body alike.

South of Saraburi, I saw a sign for a speed camera: my first in Thailand, where limits had always appeared to be optional, except when used as a revenue gathering exercice. I was caught once by a radar gun in the south of Thailand, but the policeman in charge offered me the chance to look at the device. It was the same, Muniquip gun I had used when a policeman, so I asked to look at the tuning fork. Splutter, splutter. . . Not there. "We had it this morning". Probably lost a long time before. I got away with it that day.

A bathroom stop at a service station, gave me a chance to stretch my legs. Then we carried on towards Saraburi, with some of the day's itinerary being mentioned over the (very) loud-speakers: and I had chosen the quiet bus. It was just after 10am and a bottle of Red Label appeared.

Approaching Saraburi, the flat lands of the central plain give way to the first hills off to the sides. The highway itself appears to roll gently along with only a hint of a rise. At Saraburi where the road to the Northeast veers left and over a bridge, the police were stopping trucks, but there were no delays for us.

A few kilometres further on, near Kaeng Khoi, are massive concrete-making plants: processing the limestone from the nearby hills. The road rises gently away from Saraburi but after Kaeng Khoi, there is a spectacular rise as the highway begins its ascent towards the Korat Plateau. These days lot of the industrial area is hidden by trees and landscaping, but it -- and the hills -- are still visible.

Much of the concrete-making is left behind as the 3 lanes, widening to 4 in places, begin to snake up the hill. At Muaklek, I wai towards the village in memory of someone I once knew who was born there. The road -- 5 planes in places now -- was still rising, but rolling hills were visible to the sides of the highway.

With music, maps, photos, 3G, Bluetooth and a couple of accidental videos, the battery indicator on the iPhone was beginning to show red. I stopped accessing the Maps app and switched to the iPad for music: the phone lasted into the late afternoon when I was able to charge it.

Just after 11 am we turned off the main road to the area called Pakchong. There were lots of resorts and hotels here. The whole area had new developments in various stages of construction and the road itself was in process of being widened. We stopped here for lunch, but as the restaurant was located down a narrow lane, they had their own motorised tram service, using a vehicle similar to those we have on campus at Salaya.

The restaurant was named, Baan Mai (wooden house) which was rather appropriate. It was beautifully rambling built on the steep banks of a small river and was full of old effects -- some might call them antiques. Among these were many household effects as well as some odd items, like movie paraphernalia as well as old wooden items.

Tin toys, train sets, pinball machines, one-armed bandits, advertisements, porcelain, pottery, there was even an old machine for entering data into punch cards: my computer-savvy colleagues needed that explaining to them.

There was also a display of old cigarette packets, including Craven "A" ("Good for your throat", was the advertising copy). In the case were two boxes of Swan Vestas matches reminding me of my grandfather who smoked himself to death (half an ounce of Old Holborn, a packet of Rizla green and a box of Swan Vestas, please).

This was a veritable treasure house of bric-à-brac and to make things better, we ate lunch -- that was pretty good too -- in the middle of all of this. Every time I looked there was something new. The flowers and the insects were real.

The website for this place is a bit heavy on Flash, but it is worth waiting for it to load. I see also that there is a hotel attached. The rates do not look too bad.

As we had arrived outside, one of our PR team who had travelled up with others in cars, was already waiting (and taking photos as we tumbled out of the tram). I tried my battery in his working Nikon but it was dead. His good battery brought my camera back to life. He had a spare which he lent to me. Although I had a charger, he took my dead one away to do the job for me.

After lunch we were driven 6 kms to -- of all things -- a Go-Kart track. The road took us in the direction of Khao Yai, and I recognised a couple of landmarks including St. Stephen's School: an expensive, private establishment. The road and what was either side, all seemed spiffier than the last time I had come this way (April 1999).

There were, for example, several more resorts, and I also noticed visitor-centric farms: selling produce and the experience, rather than being in the business of farming per se. Not so long ago, the government had several resorts removed as they were encroaching on forest land. There were real farms here too as well as other cultivation: this area has become famous as a wine-producing area and I hope we track these establishments down this weekend.

There was also the Go-Kart track, which is run by a German guy from Aachen. I had a go. I had several. It was odd at first with no gears. I tried to find the limits of adhesion on several bends: it was fun, with lots of mistakes, but sitting there with knees either side of a plastic gasoline tank, does remind one of risks.

Then there was a race, I was told. This was even more fun, but I must learn the difference between accelerator and brake. I also need to remember that no mirrors means you cannot see; but equally, they cannot see you. Fun. In a later challenge race, I was 5th out of 10.

Dirty and tired, but smiling, we were driven a few more kilometers to the hotel: Fountain Tree Resort which is fairly good for the sort of conferencing and meetings we will be using it for over the next day or so, but is done out in a Cowboy theme.

After moving into my large room, I checked at the desk and asked about Wi-Fi. No problem. I have three devices (Mac, iPhone, iPad). No problem: one free account for each. This is slow when compared with home links, and not all devices are connected all of the time making syncing data less than perfect. But free is good value.

Tomorrow, as well as the inspirational meetings, there will be a meal and dance at night, with a Cowboys and Cowgirls theme too. Luckily (and by sheer coincidence) the shop here has shirts for sale and gear for rent.

Late evening as I write this up, I can hear 6-shooters outside and somewhere in the distance there are tom-toms. [I kid you not.]

I need another wine cooler.

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